I went to the Olympics on Friday. To watch hockey. More accurately, to watch young ladies in short skirts running around with sticks to hit a ball.
I arrived early, in fact I had to get up at 5am, which is surprisingly easier than getting up at 7am for work. I had that “why do I live in Reading” feeling when I arrived, London was so exciting even at that time in the morning. I even got a seat on the Bakerloo line. How often does that happen in the morning?
It was all so well organised, straight through security, everything was laid out really well, loads of volunteers there to help you on your way and such a cheerful vibe, everyone was made to feel welcome.
Actually, it was quite entertaining, and not just because I was watching young ladies in short skirts running around. For the first game it was a toss-up between supporting the English speaking nation (I had my American flag socks on) or a bit of European solidarity. Tough choice. So I had a close look at the young ladies, and soon realised that Belgium were far hotter than USA so supported them. USA took the lead not long after we sat down, but Belgium came back to beat them 2-1. Must go there one day, very good looking ladies.
Hockey is admirably skillful. Watching them control the ball with the stick and dribble like Cameron Stewart (or Ronaldo if you don’t support Hull City) is quite impressive.
The second game after a hog roast and a beer (apparently before 10am is too early for a beer? wtf?) featured China vs Australia. Clearly I supported the Commonwealth team, and some of the ladies were hot. Especially the number 9. That and a couple of the Chinese team seemed to be men.
Except it wasn’t. China kept appealing when it went in the goal and it would often be disallowed for ‘dangerous play’. Eventually Australia proved the best team and came through 2-0. And China had a last minute goal disallowed.
Here is the number 9.
Time now to educate. This is Wenlock. Designed at an East London after-party, one assumes. One of the proudest moments of my life.
So, has the Olympics inspired me to get involved in sport? I think you know the answer…
If it isn’t fun, then I am not going to do exercise. The idea of the gym or running is about as appealing as cross-stitching. However I am currently about as fat and overweight as I have ever been so at some point something has to give.