Wednesday 11 April 2012

Olympic effort

Is it wrong that I am not in the slightest excited about the Olympics? With each flash of the digital Olympic countdown clock, my sigh deepens, my eyes roll that bit more dramatically and eventually I glaze over. Or feel slightly annoyed. 



I feel bad about this negativity but I am fed up when leaflets come through the door telling me I won't be able to go here and there, and am expected to not use the bloody transport system in case visitors want to travel in July/August, in my home town. (To make myself feel a bit better, I'll go to one of the free events, just so my child can witness history or whatever, partly because we'll be trapped where we live for a few days and won't be able to go anywhere.) I want to feel elated, excited and eager but it all seems so removed from me (apart from the 'you must not go here/there' stuff), that I struggle to feel genuinely moved.

What troubles me most is the amount of money we have thrown at this event, and continue to throw at it. Billions of pounds at a time where I am in the red on the second of the month, where people talk of child poverty, where we are being screwed with tax and VAT, and no pay rises. We have one child because a) we can't afford a bigger place to live,  b) we work for a living (rather than depend on the state) – and living is f*cking hard at the moment – for many people, and c) April sees a raft of bills come in and I am juggling like crazy to ensure the fridge is stocked, the car legal, the amenities paid for, etc etc etc.  

The whole "it will be an investment for the future" also riles me. Where is the extra money coming from – the cash that will have to manifest to turn the Olympic Village into habitable homes? Who will buy these homes? Who will give them mortgages? Who will cycle in the velodrome? No – wait – that's being converted at a cost of, er, how much, into... what exactly? Why do the executives have to stay in hotels on Park Lane? 

I am a proud Briton and a passionate Londoner, and I value human endeavour and achievement; none of my moaning here is anything to do with that. Please let us win more gold than ever. Please. I was happy when we won the bid – I walked around Trafalgar Square with a good friend on the evening July 6 that year. The wind blew the ticker tape that was left on the ground from the celebrations and we were both smiling and excited as the sun faded from the sky. (The next day was 7/7.) 

Methinks the emperor's new clothes are so shiny, so shimmery and glitzy, that they have blinded many to the cost of this relatively short sporting event. Is anyone holding the purse strings? Are there any strings on the purse? I bloody doubt it. The original budget was £2.4 billion. It is now forecast to be £24 billion. 

SIGH...

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