Posts tagged olympics.

An amazing week of Olympics in London. 

Incredible athletes.
Beautiful support. 
Proud to be British.  

A big thanks to my beautiful girl for the tickets! 

Time to be just a little less British

“Don’t let them in”
“It’s my British duty to report them”


A few days ago I arrived in London - the first time whilst the Games were taking place. It was rush hour, normally the time personal space is invaded from all angles. And where at 6ft 2 you find yourself hunched most of the 40 min commute across town practically kissing the person next to you. Or alternatively buried in the back of their sweaty neck.

This time it the tube was empty. Almost deserted. Paddington. Oxford Circus. Brixton. All ghost stations. And it’s been like that for days.

And it had been great.

It was until the press started showing empty restaurants; shopkeepers taking less than this time last year; small business worried they might not last through the surreal calm. 

And the stadiums – they are ALL half packed. Across all the sports, across the whole of London.

And for this to happen after the spread-bet debacle a few months ago which worked the entire UK population into a purchase frenzy, encouraging them to gamble the their house to claim a Golden Ticket.

And it’s these very same people – whose cheers have been muted from the sofas – only to be watching row upon row of unclaimed seats.


Today I was fortunate enough to be invited to Wimbledon – Centre Court, to watch the Men’s Quarter Finals. Murray, Tsonga, Federer, Djokovic. And a few of the ladies including Sharapova and Azarenka.

Throughout the day we headed in and out of the court. Mainly to the Pimms tent (although this had now been replaced by an Olympic equivalent provided by their sponsor Diageo – good old LOCOG).

It was late in the afternoon, by this stage the stadium had thinned to about half capacity.

I was waiting at the gate to my seats within the inner tunnels of the stadium. Each gate manned by an official who will check your ticket each and every time. Rules are rules n’ all that.

And then it happened. He was in a blue shirt. Just a bit younger than my dad maybe. And I presume she was his wife. Both London sounding. And they had no tickets. I saw them ducking the gaze of the official. Shuffling in to the crowd so they might avoid being asked. And I watched them sneak through.

It wasn’t British. We don’t do that. They have rules. They have good reason for those rules. We were the lucky ones with tickets. You don’t have tickets. How do you think it’s fair that you are now in with us. Hang on – in with us. We’re in a half packed stadium. A stadium which deserved to be filled.

I sat there not knowing what to think. Part of me – definitely the British part, horrified by their audacity. And the rest of me – sadly an equal measure, applauding their ‘one over’. Why not?

Alright maybe I hadn’t become one of them. Not quite, but definitely close.


They finally settle in the row behind. Directly behind me.
I overheard them telling their friends they’d left their seats without their tickets and had to sneak their way in around the ‘jobs-worthy’ officials.
The seats they’d been sitting in all day.
I’m an idiot.


Photos to come. A brilliant day. I’m loving the Olympics.

#TowerBridge #Olympics #London #commutehome (Taken with Instagram)

Love stuff like this. #Olympics (Taken with instagram)