The Whole Hogge

THIS weekend sees the culmination of lifelong dreams and ambitions of thousands of athletes who gather to compete in the Olympic Games in London. I was in fact hoping to attend as a spectator/media commentator, obviously, but the best-laid plans failed to materialise. So instead, I'll be glued to my TV screen over the coming fortnight to catch as many sporting triumphs as my jam-packed schedule allows. I'm pretty aggrieved I haven't managed the trip across the water to experience the greatest sporting spectacle of them all, especially as I have not one but two couches I could lay claim to in the greater London area. I even went so far as make a reasonable pitch for media accreditation but my attempts were in vain so I'm going to have to make do with daily reports of the action, in and out of the many arenas concerned. If the run up to the games is anything to go by, we can hopefully look forward to a pretty entertaining fortnight. While the Irish camp is busy selecting then deselecting athletes across a range of disciplines, the Australians are spicing things up by segregating their ladies and men's basketball teams on the long-haul flight to the UK. The men, who have yet to make it to the podium, were afforded business class, which for a flight of that duration is a considerable advantage over the economy class seats allocated to the ladies team. The same ladies team that have brought home a silver medal from the previous three Olympic Games. Having survived that flight in cattle class, twice, I can only dream of how a reclining seat and the sleep opportunities such would offer, would have made the journey so much more bearable. Germaine Greer must have gone apoplectic that her home nation could be so sexist, although the Australian Olympic Committee (AOC) have other fires to fight at the moment so I'm not sure they'll give her the attention she normally secures in such matters. The country's shooting team has been embroiled in a bit of a storm in recent days after one of their top marksmen, Russell Mark, was told he couldn't share a room with his wife, a fellow member of the team. The reasoning behind the decision, according to the AOC, was it would inconvenience other female athletes. Presumably Russell was looking to bunk in with the missus in an all female dorm in the athletes' village, but it seems he has accepted the decision with the caveat that he still fully intends to sneak into her room every night, but be gone by the time the sun comes up. Incidentally this guy has also threatened to rock up to Saturday's opening ceremony in what one can only assume is not official team kit, a lime mankini. While you can always trust the Aussies to add a bit of spice to the occasion, it seems the Londoners themselves are determined to keep the city in the headlines for the maximum period allowed, even if the first strikes of world coverage were not of the most inspiring kind. A few of the bus drivers tasked with bringing a haul of athletes from Heathrow to the Olympic Village got hopelessly lost and their misfortune was beamed global when one American athlete took to Twitter to complain that after four hours taking in the sights of London, he needed to pee. It turned out many of the drivers who volunteered their services had in fact never been to London before, never mind have any driving experience in one of the most congested cities in the world. Even the most optimistic among us could see the potential pitfalls, which weren't allayed by giving the drivers satnav systems that hadn't been uploaded with the actual address of the intended destination. While the British public is seemingly divided as to whether or not they actually want the event in their back garden, those who were sitting on the fence were dragged into the begrudger camp when Saint Beckham failed to make the cut for the GB football team, with his former Man Utd teammate Ryan Giggs getting the nod, and the captaincy, over Golden Balls himself. The fact Becks was one of the crown jewels trotted out all those years ago when Seb Coe and his cronies were bidding for the games was quickly forgotten and sentimentality went out the window as Stuart Pearce didn't let anyone tell him who to pick. But the man who made a sarong cool has maintained his saintly status by insisting he'll be cheering the team on regardless. There's a healthy level of interest locally in the Games, given Athenry's Paul Hession will be bidding to make the final of the 200m, while the nation as a whole will no doubt come together to cheer on our superb boxer, reigning World Champion Katie Taylor, who is the number one seed for the Olympics. Ireland's Olympic record may not be the most extensive in the world but there have been some momentous Olympic moments for our top-class athletes down through the years, with my earliest memory being John Treacy's silver medal in Los Angeles in 1984. Barcelona in 1992 was another great year with boxers Michael Carruth and Wayne McCullough claiming gold and silver medals respectively, while 1996 saw the swimmer Michelle de Bruin claim three golds and a bronze in Atlanta. Tarnished by a four year ban in 1998 for allegedly tampering with a urine sample, our greatest Olympian ever is now regarded as a pariah and has long since hung up her goggles. And yet some drug failures are deemed less scandalous than others, as has been proven with the inclusion of show jumper Cian O'Connor in the Irish equestrian team for London. Despite being stripped of his gold medal in Athens eight years ago, after his horse Waterford Crystal failed a drugs test, O'Connor has been welcomed back into the Olympic fold at the expense of Denis Lynch. Lynch's nomination for the team was withdrawn when his horse Lantinus failed a hypersensitivity test last month. All very odd indeed, but such shenanigans won't taint my enthusiasm for a fortnight of sport: from the diving pool to the athletics track, I'll be hooked. Oh and I think I may have figured out a way to bag a media pass for the 2016 Games, which will be held in Rio de Janeiro. True, I don't know anyone who could help me out with a bed, but then sleeping on the beach in such sunny climes wouldn't be too much of a hardship. So I'm going to set the Sky Plus to record the entire beach volleyball tournaments, from qualifying heats to the grand final, and I've the next four years to become an expert commentator in the discipline by the time the Copacobana is ready to host the event.