The horror continues with a complete absence of any glint or glitter of yellow from the Olympics. I am now in the pits of despair and have decided not to order a new First Day Cover album because it is perfectly obvious that I will not be needing it. The few spaces that I have left in my present album should be more than sufficient for the new issues of stamps that come with each gold (how hollow that sounds now!) that Team GB manages to get.
I have a quick link to the medal table and I am now becoming truly neurotic as I check on an hourly basis to see if there is any golden news.
I can feel the resentment building up inside me. I know perfectly well all that rubbish about it not being the winning but the taking part – but that, self evidently is not the case for all the nations taking part. It’s the winning and only the winning that counts.
And talking of counting, how much have the taxpayers actually paid for the rest of the world to go home to their countries clutching Welsh made medals. The cost of holing these bloody games and the money pumped into “elite” sportspeople – and what have we got to show for it? [I have just checked again and it is two silver and two bronze. This means that we are being beaten by countries (and very nice they are too, I am sure, but . . .) like Romania, Hungary, Lithuania, Georgia and Ukraine. South Africa is also ahead of us. We are in the humiliating position of being, at the moment, twenty-first – just above Colombia!
What ever we are doing as far as sport is concerned, we are not doing it properly. And the sports that we do well in are limited in worldwide participation or reflect on the class-ridden nature of this country. I find it sickening that a country that invented and regulated the majority of modern sports languishes so wretchedly in world rankings.
The men’s gym team aside, these games are a woeful testimony to British sporting ineptitude.
Prove me wrong Team GB, prove me wrong.