'Lympic Ladies #6 - Victoria Pendleton

In the thunder-thighed world of sprint cycling, the sight of pretty, dainty young things is a rare. Then again, the idea of British cycling dominance seemed unlikely too. Now, the two have coincided - Team GB rule the track, and the undisputed Queen of the sport is a bonafide hottie from Bedfordshire, Victoria Pendleton.

Pendleton has won the rainbow jersey in the sprint at the World Championships 6 of the last 8 years, to go with team sprint gold, keirin gold, and of course the gold medal won in Beijing. More to the point, she has achieved it all without looking like some sort of SheHulk.In fact, she is hot enough for there to be demands for numerous naked shoots, which is always a good indicator of what a girl looks like.

So Vicky is sexy - but, to quote some wise men, she's sexy and she knows it. She's a vain little thing, and from watching a recent documentary, she appears to spend the majority of her time crying. Seriously, the tears come at the drop of a fucking hat; when she wins, when she loses, when she thinks about things, when her toast is burnt, when her loans are not consolidated into one low monthly repayment. She's also engaged to one of the members of the GB coaching staff, which caused enough controversy without her leaving him for a jumped up blog-reading fanboy. So, perhaps it would be best to admire Miss Pendleton from afar - but admire we most certainly will.

One Day Down...

So, the first day of the 2012 Olympics has come and gone.Well, there is actually a thing or two still going on, but I'm done. A few parting shots before we log off for the night...

Michael Phelps was forced out of the medals - quite the surprise. Of course, those in the know wouldn't have been stunned at Ryan Lochte's success, as he's been a force for the past few years. But Phelps' absence from the podium is still a big deal; there was a feeling that, in the style of the great champions, Phelps would pull his finger out of his arse and produce on the big stage. Now, we not only have to question whether the Baltimore native can pick up his game but whether a confident and energised Lochte can be stopped.


Stephanie Rice was indeed injured. I told you so. It still doesn’t soften the blow of my least favourite thing in sport – when less attractive girls beat the lookers. Hard to take, folks.

Timmy McCarthy got so excited by a second quarter comeback from the Croats, I thought he was going to collapse. He recovered as the game settled down, but there can be absolutely no debate that his appearances will, once again, be one of the highlights of the entire Games.


Out true hero of the day, however, is Marco Galiazzo. While the American men's archery team looked like a fraternity on a bonding trip our Italian boys were an entirely different proposition, and none more than Galilazzo. 39 years old, sunglasses, bucket hat, belly, goatee, he looked like he had just rolled out of Glasto.And then he went and won a gold medal like it ain't no thing. Mr. Galiazzo, we salute you.

The-Let's-Not-Make-Fools-Of-Ourselves-From-The-Start Blog - Irish at the Olympics : Day 1

The first day of the Olympics - proper - is continuing, but Irish athletes are done for the day. A few, indeed, done for the Games. We take a quick look at how the Irish got on.

The morning started with disappointment in the gymnastics, as Kieran Behan was pretty shit. A lot better than I could do, granted, but decidedly worse than a lot of other blokes could, and so found himself unceremoniously dumped out of the competition. He then even less ceremoniously cried while interviewed by Clare McNamara. The questions just kept on coming though, because Clare is a heartless bitch who knows good telly when she sees it.

The judo was even more disappointing, and not just because of the result. The sport itself was a massive letdown - I was expecting something from a Steven Seagal movie, instead we were greeted by a pair of girls in dressing gowns having a bit of an argument, like two out-of-town businesswomen debating financial strategies. In the end, Wu Shugen's points on quantatitive easing trumped Lisa Kearney's spirited defence of austerity, and Ireland had another athlete gone.

A better strategy is the one employed by Barry Murphy, who lost a swimming race but had the foresight to enter another. He is therefore guaranteed a bed until Wednesday, but will need to show a real improvement if he is to avoid a bit of abuse. On this blog, mainly.

Also entering more than one event is David McCann, time-trialling on his bicycle in a few days time after a less-than-triumphant 54th place this afternoon. This was a damn sight better than Nicholas Roche and Daniel Martin, who came in 88th and 89th respectively, but what they lost in terms of success they surely compensated for in loyalty and friendship. And David McCann seems like a selfish dick.

Something to cheer about finally arrived in the rowing in the form of Sanita Puspure, who qualified for the quarter-finals of the women's skulls without a lot of fuss. The fuss was probably avoided by entering the event solo - it's the other bitches in the boat that would have been causing hassle.

And, of course, the boxers. No surprise really, but all our expectations were met by two commanding showings from John Joe Nevin (above right, in red) and team captain Darren O'Neill. O'Neill outpointed Muideen Akanji 15-6 to follow Nevin, who enjoyed a 21-6 win over Dennis Ceylan.The boxers truly do look to be our real talents here - but then we knew that before. Wombats shit in perfect squares so they can mark their territory. You didn't know that before, did you?

There are still some horsey people out there, but the last time I checked they were dressaging, and sitting on a horse and making it dance is in my hole a sport. I might update this with how they got on later. See how I feel about it...

Idiots' Guide To 'Lympic Events #3 - Fencing

What:                Fencing is, in essence, swordfighting for cowards. It will come as no surprise to find out that it was invented by the French.

The two biggest names in fencing face off

Who:                 Pictured at right are the two most recognisable faces in fencing. Remember them!!

Where:              In a week where purpose built stadia and venues will host the cream of world sport, fencers join boxers, wrestlers and taekwondoers in competing in the unmitigated shithole that is the ExCel Arena

How:                 Yera, ‘tis all a bit of faffing about, in truth. The two competitors just dance back and forth, trying to touch the other with their sword – a foil, a sabre, or an Épée, which are three separate classes. However, the swords don’t hurt, and I don’t think I can stress that enough. If you take this messing seriously, you’re probably the type to leave a suicide note before doing a bungee jump.

Do say:           “He has the best in Coupé in the whole of foil fencing”

Don’t say:        “Ja know who’d dominate this shit? Zorro”

'Lympic Ladies #5 - Lolo Jones

Like her compatriot Hope Solo, Lolo has an entertaining name. If she were my second wife, I would probably move on to being Lolo Solo. But before we get bogged down in my funny name fetish, it is worth noting the rest of her attributes: also tall, also very good looking, also fine with posing naked.

There is, however, a problem: Lolo is a no-no. In the lead-up to the Games, the Iowa native revealed that she is still a virgin, and claimed “the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life — harder than training for the Olympics, harder than graduating from college – has been to stay a virgin before marriage”. Which seems like showing off, in truth. Losing my virginity is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done. As a teenager, I probably stood more chance of winning the Olympics than getting laid.

So to the dismay of the legions of red-blooded males scouring the Olympic village (and probably a few female Eastern European shot-putters too), the hottest 110m hurdler of the Games is off-limits. The most you’re going to get from her is a lecture – and maybe her allocation of 15 condoms if you’re lucky…

Danny Boyle's Farm - The Liveblog!!

The Opening Ceremony of an Olympics is a bit like Katy Perry attaching fireworks to her breasts - it makes no difference, we were looking that way anyway. However, they are a great opportunity to put on a show, learn geography and be intimidated by the prospect of being ruled by a superpower. Danny Boyle has promised sheep, cricket and plenty more. Join us right here from 9pm as we track the action from the Olympic Stadium.

Press f5 to refresh


00:50: Well, just about 4 hours later, that's all folks!! To anyone who actually took it upon themselves to read along throughout the ceremony, thank you, and an even bigger thank you to the commenters who kept me amused. The Games are open and, of course, you won't miss a trick right here with The 'Lympics Log. I'm off for a cold beer and a few cigarettes. Good night!!

00:47: "Quintessentially British" was the BBC's verdict, "dramatic" is RTE's. Mine? A bloody great call. It was sensible, honest and genuine, and for a performance that size, that's one hell of an achievement. Danny Boyle and his team should be proud.

00:36: And the dogs of North East London are terrorised by fireworks. Paul McCartney chimes in now too. Hey Jude is the ultimate way to finish the night. In fact, the ultimate way to finish any night.

00:35: Wow. I had wondered what the kids were carrying alongside every nation's flag - it was those copper petals at the end of each rod of the cauldron. Well done. That's quality work, that is.

00:31: That last update may have been a little curt. This torch business is always nice. Good to see the kids playing a part again too - say what you want about the organisation, the cost and even if its all worth the hassle, but you can't fault the involvement of the youth of the country  They promised that, and they certainly delivered.

00:29: This whole oath stuff is a pile of shite really, isn't it. We've see judges messing, trainers messing and of course athletes messing. It means NOTHING. Whatever, as long as it gets me closer to getting off this computer and into the smoking room, it's fine.

00:24: Becks clearly hasn't exactly been gunning it in that fucking boat. He's only still approaching, but now docks - so to speak - handing over to the great Steve Redgrave.

00:22: The flag is also carried by Marina Silva, " THE CHAMPION OF THE EARTH". Some title, though it may not compare to "The Greatest" - Muhammed Ali.

00:18: Here's Lizzie anyway. She may have has a bit of a nap, but she's back in action now. Flag is out, and carriers include Haile Gebreselassie and Ban Ki Moon. Sounds like the answer to one of those "dream dinner party" questions.

00:14: Even at this late stage - both in the night and in the 116 year history of the Games - Jacques Rogge's note that every participating country has a female competitor is poignant. Or maybe I'm just getting emotional because I haven't had a cigarette since half 8. I dunno.

00:10: A very fine point made by Ross, who's been in touch: "The Albanians and them have been standing there for hours! Must be wrecked".

00:07: Sebastian Coe, Lord Coe, Good Ol' Seb, whatever. Either way, he's talking away. Even if you're an Ovett person, you'd have to say he gives good speech.

00:01: The Chizler - who, as he points out, is doing a better job than the Queen of staying awake - asks "when do the phonelines for the voting open?". Does it really matter? Block voting will dictate that Dominica, St. Lucia, Antigua and Barbuda and the boys will stick together and we'll be off to the Carribean next time. Actually, that doesn't sound bad, does it?

00.00: Well, it's been 3 hours and we're still going. Still a flame to be lit, still a speech or two, I'd think. But at least everyone showed up. Arctic Monkeys to wake up anyone who was beginning to lag.

23:57: Like disco astronauts, the home contingent are in. Team GB get the ovation you would expect to the strains of Bowie's Heroes.

23:53: The Artist Formerly Known As Swiney has been in touch from Germany, commenting on how unfortunate it is Chinese Taipei can't walk under their own flag. Indeed and it is, but it could be worse 

23:47: Turns out I wasn't seeing things Gareth Ryle has fired us this video in double quick time. At the very least, it's extremely unfortunate.

23:39: They're still coming. Nothing of note. In the comments section, princesswhatshername asks "I thought the Olympics had started, like, a week ago?". No, the finest blog of the Olympics started a week ago. And I suppose they have been playing soccer for a day or two. This is the start of the real deal though.

23:33: Sao Tome and Principe, take a place with Nauru and Comoros on the naughty step.  We'll be with you presently. Seriously, learn something new every day and all of that, eh?

23:31: St.Vincent & The Grenadines would be a fantastic name for an indie band, no?

23:30: Rwandan flag-bearer - see Peru

23:27: Peruvian flag-bearer needs to Cheer Up Charlie. Looks like the cover of a National Geographic

23:22: Nauru? Seriously, I'm pretty good at geography and I'm getting suspicious. You go stand with Comoros in the corner, I have a few questions to ask once this is over.

23:18: I know what Micronesia is. I even read a book about Pohnpei (which comes highly recommended). But I still always picture people from Micronesia to be tiny. They aren't.

23:12: Oh my word. A quick glance outside shows the entire Team GB are dressed like Jedward. Seriously.

23:10: Is it fair to speculate that China and South Korea very intentionally sent their tallest men to carry the flags? Just to debunk any myths or stereotypes, I suppose

23:07: Usain Bolt probably pisses ice-cubes. Cooler than an eskimo's mickey

23:05: Great reception for the Irish. If they gave medals for entering a stadium, walking and flag-waving, we would certainly have half a shot

23:04: Here we go!!

23:02: Independents: Liemarvin Bonevacia. Guar Marial. Luke 'Ming' Flanagan.

23:01: Ireland, of course, play a vital role here. Otherwise, it's Israel chasing Iran and Iraq around the field.

22:55: Seemed to me as though the German delegate was giving it a bit of Seig Heil as their athletes came out? Anyone else?!?!

22:54: I would be absolutely spitting to be an Ethiopian athlete. The next team up get to strut in to The Beegees, Ethiopia have to walk in to this. What a kick in the bollocks

22:49: North Korea have their own flag this evening. The Most Glorious Flag Of All Flags.

22:48: ARE THE CZECHS WEARING FUCKING WELLIES?!?! IT'S NOT OXEGEN, LADS!!

22:47: Cuban bloke telling the strap to suck it, and brandishing it aloft with one hand. Absolute beast.

22:45: Fair play Comoros. You managed to exist all that time without me even noticing. Sneaky bastards

22:43: The Chinese are here Ted. And I'm no good at judging crowds, but there must be a hundred million of them

22:41: Central African Republic. The favourite country of anyone who watches Pointless

22:38: Burundi. Every single one of them a a javelin thrower. At least I assume so - they were wearing runners, which I don't think is part of traditional dress, like

22:36: British Virgin Islands. Few weeks and they'll just be the British Islands

22:31: Belgian skirts are seriously short. Top marks. Benin, on the other hand, have just worn tablecloths. Fair play, still carrying them off, like

22:29: Observations so far - In this season: white. Out this season: Nations not beginning with 'A'

22:26: American Samoa definitely dominating in the fashion stakes so far. Armenia propping up the table - shorts?!

22:23: I really do love this bit. Nothing will ever quite compare to Atlanta, when they made them run down a steep slope. Absolute panic.

22:21: Greece did indeed give us the Olympic Games. They also gave us a barely solvent currency. So I guess it swings and roundabouts really

22:16: Ber O'Sullivan has taken one look at Emile Sande and is not impressed. "She's definitely wearing her Spanx. She'll probably explode after the song has finished".

22:13: David Beckham - is there any limits to his talent? Torch on its way - smart money today appears to be going on Roger Bannister doing the deed

22:08: HOUSE MUSIC!! I GET IT!! Brilliant.

22:05: I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles. Barry Hearn must having a fucking conniption.

22:00: Punks on pogo stilts pounding round the track. Oscar Pistorius unconcerned

21:59: In fairness, you wondered how long it would take to bang the tunes. One area that the Chinese - and everyone else, for that matter - can't really compete.

21:57: David Toms comments "This is just jaw-dropping". Which, the liveblog or the show?

21: 54: Tim Berners Lee. See, someone compared me to him for embedding a video successfully on Wednesday, but I'm pretty sure they were being sarcastic.

21:49: Mr.Bean has just made this ceremony worthwhile. That is a masterstroke - though I don't know how international the appreciation will be

21:46: You just can't see the HSE getting a role like this in an Irish ceremony, can you?!

21.44: George nominates Mary Poppins as the world's favourite nanny. Hulkamania prepares to run wild on him

21:38: Shane Calnan chips in "I was honestly just expecting a few people dancing round round a maypole". By the way, hit the comments section to get involved, give me your thoughts.

21:36: Seriously, waiting on a trolley in a corridor of a hospital is bad enough, but Christ! Some amount of kids here too. I mean, the Chinese had plenty too, but at least they were probably getting paid. For working in sweatshops.

21:33: Anyone else reckon they should leave the infield as is? Shot put would be a damn sight more challenging if you had to hoist it over a big bloody hill in the middle of proceedings

21:30: Nah, she's just come out a door. Fuck her. Can't be messing around like that, like

21:29: If this is really the Queen, I'm pledging allegiance

21:28: James Bond and Elizabeth II is perhaps the greatest crimefighting duo imaginable. Like teaming Jack Bauer and Horatio Kane or something.

21:25: Though in fairness, there was never so much writhing and thrusting in steel mills. Or, at least not back then. Now, it may well be different. Oh Jesus, was that George Hamilton doing a Bond impression?!

21.22: You'd have to give a lot of credit, this is a pretty honest display. The Chinese tried to look whiter than white: this isn't shirking any grimy, dirty aspects of Britain's past. Suppose it is Danny Boyle, after all.

21:13: Giant plumes of smoke rise from the infield. Michael Phelps insists he has nothing to do with it

21:11: Dancing men in top-hats carrying stakes and planks -  if anyone wasn't familiar with fencing, they've just been sent down a very wrong path

21:07: Clips of rugby whetting the appetite? Don't worry, just 4 years to wait, folks!!

21:05: Danny Boyle opens with Danny Boy. Well, a bit of self-promotion is grand, I suppose.

21:02: I've already got bloody vertigo. This could be a long night...

21:00: It's showtime!


20.58: BBC promise that this will "bring us through the revolutions of British society". Presumably, then, the Irish shall march under the British flag for the majority of the ceremony...

'Lympic Legends #3 - Gary O'Toole

In the same fashion as Timmy McCarthy, anyone whose knowledge and enthusiasm can attract you to a sport you wouldn't normally watch deserves a ton of credit. And in that respect, Gary O'Toole is certainly worthy of a pat on the back. But it isn't just his affable TV personality that makes him something of a hero.

He is, essentially, a superhero. A former world class swimmer, who enjoyed success at World University level, as well as the European Championships in 1989. This was while he was studying towards his current profession, as a doctor. He is also, I am reliably informed by women, very handsome. I have never read Aquaman, but a fucking swimmer/doctor/TV star/heartthrob is kinda how I imagine comic-book characters operate. He probably has a utility belt too, but RTE keep it hidden under the desk.

Gary's main contribution, however, may be his straight-up legendary contributions out of the pool and off-screen. He played a key role in the justice brought upon the perpetrators of an abuse scandal that rocked Irish sport, and was the sole sceptic in a sea of ignorant bliss after Michelle Smith stunned the world by winning 3 golds in Atlanta. Two years later, his suspicions were proven to be correct. 14 years after that, we doff our caps to O'Toole as a true 'Lympic Legend.

Katie Taylor and the Wait Of A Nation

We like to think of ourselves as a sporting nation that punches above its weight and, in truth, we may very well be. A rugby team deservedly ranked amongst the best in the world, a soccer team that defies our size, player pool and financial clout, and individuals throughout history contributing to the global sporting landscape, we have a lot to be proud of. But above all sit the achievements of one: Katie Taylor.

Leave aside, for just one moment, her prowess on the soccer field. Forget for a second her success in promoting sport to the nation's female population. Even forget for a minute her reputation as a well-spoken, committed and honest competitor. The simple fact is that Katie is not just the best we've got, she's the best we've ever had.

Yes, Brian O'Driscoll is fantastic, Roy Keane had a spectacular playing career, Sonia O'Sullivan enjoyed great success and all receive fitting plaudits and platitudes. Padraig Harrington, Stephen Roche, Ruby Walsh, there is a fine list to be made, but none - and I really mean none - can compare to the irrepressible Ms. Taylor. Never have we had a reigning 4-time world champion. Never have we had an athlete so completely dominant in her own field. Taylor deserves recognition far beyond what she has received - furthermore, she deserves a level of recognition that we as a sporting nation can barely comprehend.

In London - possibly her last major tournament - Taylor has the opportunity to cap the finest career in Irish sport with the finest achievement in world sport. A gold medal not only elevates her into a small band of Olympic champions in Ireland, it rounds off a resume that may never be surpassed. Katie is capable, but we - and the world - expect a win. The pressure is there, but so is the talent. So is the drive, the determination, the sheer will to triumph like she did in New Dehli, and Ningbo, and Barbados, and Qinhuangdao.

Tonight, Katie Taylor carries the nation's flag in her hands. For the next two weeks, she carries the nation's hopes on her shoulders.

Clash 4 Gold - Ireland's Hopes

With the opening ceremony just hours away, it’s only right that we take a quick look at the hopes of the Irish athletes competing in London. Don’t worry though – not all of them. Frankly, the majority are only slightly more likely to be victorious in their respective events than I am.

In fairness, much as it is kinda my job to be a sarky, dismissive snob towards anyone other than the very best, it is an achievement qualifying for the Games in the first place. Competing in an Olympics puts one amongst the elite, and is an experience that very few people on the planet will ever get to enjoy. So to the likes of Sycerika McMahon, Martyn Irvine, Scott Evans and Paul Hession, genuine congratulations are due. You have done yourselves, your families and your country proud. Just don’t expect me to waste bandwidth on you.

No, if we’re gonna preview this, we’re gonna preview it right, and that means focusing on the best chances for medals that we have. And, in a nation that tried to distance ourselves from big fat gypsy weddings, it is ironic that our perennial strengths are fightin’ and horses. Essentially, our sporting prowess seems to come down to a cross between The Hardy Bucks and The Rubberbandits.

We send two of the most experienced competitors in Irish sport, Cian O’Connor and Billy Twomey (left), but underneath them will be, respectively, a 12 year old and a 15 year old. That sounds very cruel until you realise that they’re horses. Which might still be a little cruel, I don’t know. I only really take complaints seriously when they’re in writing, and as yet the horses haven’t said a word.

Either way, I guess both Blue Loyd and Tinka's Serenade (those are the horses, not some horrific nicknames for our riders) have a chance at success, as long as the horses aren’t on drugs like the last two times, and they feel like it. Showjumping is one of those events that can throw up enormous surprises; this is mainly down to the amount of trust placed in a lump of unintelligent mass that will someday become a Frenchman’s dinner. Both Twomey and O’Connor have shone on the international stage before - there’s a chance they can do it again.

And so, to the boxing. Last time, our boys did us proud, medals for Kenny Egan, Paddy Barnes and the late Darren Sutherland. This time round, Barnes returns along with fellow two-time Olympian John Joe Nevin, joined by middleweight Darren O’Neill, Belfast’s 20 year old flyweight Michael Conlon and Wexford born Garda Adam Nolan, who will fight at lightweight. There’s some bird going too apparently, presumably there to wash the kit.

Frankly, just about every single one of the guys has a shot at a medal. Barnes has proven himself on the world stage before and Nevin has grown massively since his Beijing appearance as an 18 year old. O’Neill has been a revelation since his move from light-heavy while Nolan has the advantage of both a tricky unorthodox style and an element of surprise, going into the tournament a relative unknown away from these shores. Only Conlan would appear to be something of a long shot, but he is not short of confidence, and his switch-hitting style could see him cause problems should he get going strongly in the opening few fights.

Outside the ring, our hopes are limited. Derval O’Rourke, the darling of Irish track and field, would consider a place in another major final a success, and even that doesn’t look all that likely. Still, she has the temperament for occasions like these, and has an outside shot; it would be a fine achievement were she to raise her game and take her place in the final 8. Grainne Murphy, similarly, would do well to find a position amongst the finalists; once again, it would be a bit of a surprise were she to manage it.

Of the two remaining hopes (in my not-so-humble opinion), one combines running and swimming, and then throws in a bit of cycling for good measure. What a fucking show off. Aileen Morrison has been putting in solid performance in the triathlon for the past 18 months, and has been deservedly ranked in and around the top 10 in the world throughout that period. The Derry woman will have plenty of competition, but is not the sort to believe taking part is a success in itself. A number of recent podium finishes in tour events has certainly put her in a position to be considered capable of springing a shock.

Finally, the hopes of the Rebel County will rest on the slight and bony shoulders of Rob Heffernan (left). As experienced as they come, the 34 year old has finished in the top 10 of major championships before, in an event where age really isn’t too much of a concern. As unpredictable as a 50k walk can be (and, to the uninitiated, it actually really is a crapshoot sometimes), he could be a serious challenger for a podium place.

Otherwise, it’s participation medals and a big bag of free kit. Oh, and remember that chick travelling with the boxing team? Turns out she’s pretty handy. But more on that later…

'Lympic Ladies # 4 - Leryn Franco

Yes, this one isn’t exactly original. Sue me. Because even if it is four full years since the blogosphere lost its shit over a little known South American javelin thrower, that hardly means it isn’t worth another look. In fact, to ensure I was correct on this, I took a poll – 98% agreed she should make this blog as a ‘Lympic Lady, and since there are about 2% of the world’s population who are blind or of low vision, those maths definitely seem to work out.

So, to the beautiful Leryn. The Paraguayan certainly bucks the trend of what you imagine a javelin thrower might look like. With her smouldering Latino looks: dark eyes, gorgeous physique and – yep, you guessed it – propensity for hanging around not wearing very much at all, it is little wonder that she has attracted so much attention. She finished second in the Miss Universe Paraguay in 2006, and some have even gone so far as to name her the hottest athlete of all time.

This, however, is one woman that you will certainly need to tune in early to see, as her achievements in beauty competitions are not exactly matched by her achievements in athletics. She has previously competed in both the Athens and Beijing Games, finishing 42^nd and 51^st respectively. But really, does any of this matter?

The Birth Of An Obsession

Jump to 4:58 in the Video for the good stuff!



The 1991 welterweight World Champion arrived in Barcelona as a prohibitive favourite. A product of the legendary Cuban amateur system, he raced through to the final, winning two fights inside the distance and outpointing his other two opponents by a combined score of 17-2. The stage, quite simply, was set for Juan Hernandez to join a lengthy and ever growing roll-call of Cuban boxers – a list including such luminaries as Teófilo Stevenson and Ángel Herrera – in being crowned Olympic champion. But the rangy and stylish southpaw had not reckoned on one thing – a 5’7 Army corporal from Drimnagh, named Michael Carruth.

Carruth returned a star, a hero the entire country could embrace. He was a kindly spoken family man, a ferocious competitor but above all else, a winner. For 26 years since Ronnie Delaney shocked the world in Melbourne, Ireland had waited to taste Olympic success again. And just a few hours after Wayne McCullough fell just short, a ginger kid had brought home gold.

Immediately promoted to Sergeant, Carruth traveled Ireland in the following months, kissing hands and shaking babies so to speak. I should know – I was one of those babies. 4 years old, my dad brought me to meet him at an opening of…oh, I don’t know, something or other. I was 4 for Christ’s sake, give me a break! Anyway, he was gracious and kind, hoisting me up on his shoulder for a picture as I tugged on the prize that hung proudly around his neck. The photo is around somewhere but even if it never surfaces again, the memory is burned in my brain. And its not the only memory, either.

Most people will always remember their first heroes, but few people will have their heroes as their first memory. But I can honestly say that, hand on heart, I cannot remember a single moment of my life prior to watching Michael Carruth leap around the ring as his hand was raised. His celebrations were mirrored by the majority of my extended family gathered in our living room. My dad picked me up – he had tears in his eyes. Even thinking of it, there are tears in mine.

Idiots’ Guide to ‘Lympic Events #2 : Archery

What:              Basically, it’s the same game you played on a school tours to adventure camps when you were 10. Also an extension of primitive hunting techniques, but you’re unlikely to be as familiar with that. Unless you are reading in a nomadic Amazonian camp. Or the past. In which case, welcome! And congratulations on your improbable computer skills!

Who:               Brady Ellison flies the flag for the United States, but this is a sport in which the South Koreans are absolutely dominant. I have no fucking clue why, to be honest. Small hands, perhaps. I don’t know. Just shut up.

Where:            The unlikely venue for the archery in London is Lord’s Cricket Ground. Since this is an idiots’ guide, I won’t expect you to understand, but it is a kinda big deal. Like if Lady Gaga played in a church. Not that archers have been upsetting the cricketing fraternity or anything, its just they normally wouldn’t be allowed in; this is the first time anything other than cricket has been played there. 

How:               Well, from 70 yards archers fire, 3 arrows a round, at the target pictured at right, which measures 122cm. I fundamentally refuse to explain further, on the grounds that if you can’t put the rest together on your own you are, in fact, a complete and utter moron.

Do say:            “Good shot / Bad shot”

Don’t say:       “I wonder if it would hurt to get hit by an arrow”

Beaches Be Trippin'

Mention the Olympics to any man (or, indeed, given its level of exposure, woman) and it surely won’t take too long for Beach Volleyball to enter the conversation. It is the embodiment of a sport that takes a 47 month hiatus every four years, only to re-enter the spotlight with a vengeance when the Games roll around once more. And, in fairness, it isn’t all that difficult to see why. If you are still struggling, this may help.

London, however, poses problems for the event, and not necessarily the ones you may immediately consider, such as the lack of a beach. No, that issue was quickly rectified with a temporary court constructed at Horse Guards Parade, right in front of the offices of the David Cameron. For that, you would have to give props. Such a player move on the part of the PM, he is truly living the Olympic dream.

No, the biggest problem, it seems, will be posed by the weather, and specifically the temperatures. See, a loophole – and that’s almost the only way to describe it (perhaps even an oversight) as far as I’m concerned – permits players to wear long sleeved tops and leggings once the temperature drops below 16°C (60.8°F). And going by the recent English weather that looks to be a distinct possibility.

Now please don’t get me wrong, I am as committed a fan of lycra as you’re ever going to find. In fact, yoga pants come in behind only white pants, sundresses and a pair of my own Calvin Klein boxer shorts in a list of my favourite things to see a girl wear. But the prospect of beach volleyball without bikinis is like a non-alcoholic beer, or a beach volleyball compilation video without a sleazy soundtrack. Basically, the very essence of what makes it great goes out the window.

The tragic demise of this great institution would be a devastating event for all of mankind. So pray for sunlight. Pray for heat. Or at the very least, head down Horse Guards Parade with a portable heater. We will all thank you.

'Lympic Ladies #3 - Darya Klishina

From the makers of Anna Kournikova, Anna Chapman and hundreds of opportunites for men who look like me, comes one of the hottest women in London for these Games. But, unlike the aforementioned Annas - one a failed tennis player, the other a failed spy - Darya Klishina is actually pretty good at her job.

Or at least she will be: young Darya is a mere 21 years old, and competed in a major championships for the first time at last year’s Worlds. This season, however, she has already jumped over the 7 metre mark, and is currently ranked second in the world this year. It is fair to say, however, that it is not her athletic performances that are likely to have jaws dropping this summer.

At nearly 6 feet tall (and about 5 feet of that, legs) the blonde-haired beauty is already something of a star by virtue of her looks. She was, in fact, signed up to an IMG image rights deal just 2 months into her professional career. Oh, who am I kidding? You’ve just gone straight down to the photos, haven’t you? I could write anything I want here, and nobody would notice. Hi-diddly-dee, pillows zebras hubcaps.

Bad Korea Move

Er, which one are we supposed to use again, Ewan?

The Olympics hasn't even had an opening ceremony, and already the first diplomatic incident (and the first massive error from the organisers) has occured. The North Korean women's soccer team refused to kick off their Group A game against Colombia as the South Korean flag was displayed next to the players names on the scoreboard. Olympic officials are describing it entirely non-cryptically as a "flag issue". I am describing it as a fucking hilarious cock-up, and a wonderful sign of things to come...

UPDATE - 8.30pm: The game will now kick off at 8.40. The extra delay was, presumably, to allow people like me to stop laughing.

The Athletes -v- The Cheats

This site - in content, at least - will be a drug-free zone over the next few weeks. The following is a brief explanation as to why the stories of doping and cheating will not be clogging The 'Lympic Log.

Well, it was really only a matter of time. The issue of doping never really goes away, but it certainly hits headlines around this time, and the positive test of World Indoor silver medallist Mariem Alaoui Selsouli (pictured left) is perhaps the first high profile case of the London Games. Only a misguided optimist – or a fool – would believe that it will be the last, either.

So what to make of the Olympic drug scandals? Well, nothing really. Don’t get me wrong, I have my opinions – on Chambers and Gatlin lining up, on the policing by WADA and the IOC, and even on our own Rob Heffernan associating with banned athletes. But far more detrimental to sport and its integrity is not the doping, or the testing, but the talking.

See, the blanket coverage of drug offences serves little purpose other than to take the spotlight from the clean athletes, and instead celebrate – and make celebrities of – those who choose to break the rules. Sure, a bit of naming and shaming is fine, but the simple fact is the focus should be on the athletes, not the chemists. But in the modern era of sensationalism and hyperbole, of access and exposure, that just does not happen.

The result is a level of cynicism and doubt which permeates every achievement on the tracks, fields and courts of the world. Wins the race? Probably on drugs. Breaks the record? Probably on drugs. Lifts the weight, scores the goal, makes the shot? Drugs, drugs, drugs.

That isn’t to say that it doesn’t matter – vigilance in catching drug cheats, deterring future incidents and protecting clean athletes is of paramount importance. It’s also vital that we exercise a level of realism when evaluating achievements – to believe that Florence Griffith Joyner’s dramatic change in 1988 from bit-part player to setting records that no-one has come close to since? Sorry, folks, but I’m not buying it. That the men’s 100m record could change on no less than 15 occasions while Flo-Jo’s mark remains almost 25 years later? Please. But if we opt not to celebrate these achievements, then let’s actually do that: let’s not celebrate them at all.

We can only hope that athletes don’t choose to break the rules, but it is just as much about how we choose to view their rule breaking. Let’s not allow the scourge of modern competition to claim further victims in this Olympics. Let’s not allow the focus to shift from the true excellence on show at these Games. And let’s not allow the shadow of drugs to further darken the sporting landscape.

'Lympic Legends #2 - Eric 'The Eel' Moussambani

The name of Pieter van den Hoogenband could not really be described as ‘household’. Rather, it remains in the form of memories of some legendary races upon which swimming aficionados can look back. But long after his gold-medal performance in Sydney had slipped out of the public consciousness, one name from the 100m event remained ingrained in memories forever: Eric Moussambani.

With 5 lanes of the huge pool already unoccupied, the two other competitors of the first qualifying heat leapt into the water with the haste of suicidal maniacs with expiring life insurance. They were promptly disqualified, leaving us watching Equatorial Guinea’s finest embarking on his Tobler. This, of course, looked funny. It was nothing compared to what was about to happen next.

See, little did we know that the bould Eric had learned to swim a mere 8 months beforehand. And he trained himself. For a 50m race. Which would be a challenge in itself, as prior to his arrival on raceday, he had never seen a 50m pool before.

These details didn’t really emerge until later, of course. Standing on his blocks, all rippling muscles and tiny blue keks, he certainly looked the part. But as he leapt into the drink one thing became very quickly apparent – he couldn’t swim. And not in the way Trevor the Tortoise couldn’t run, or Eddy the Eagle couldn’t jump. They could, just not very well. No, not long after halfway, Eric lost the ability to swim. Flapping, splashing, veering sideways, and looking as comfortable as a dog in a microwave, he touched the wall in 1:52.72, over 7 seconds longer than it took van den Hoogenband to win the 200m.

In the coming years Eric would reduce his PB by almost a minute, but internal wrangling as a result of the perceived shame he had brought upon his nation put paid to both a scholarship to an American university and his ambitions to compete in Athens. That, however, appears to definitively be left in the past, as he travels to London as the Equatorial Guinea swimming coach.

But nothing he could ever do will compare with September 19th 2000 - the day The Eel wriggled his way into Olympic folklore.

'Lympic Ladies #2 - Stephanie Rice

There are Olympic moments that will tend to stick with you, no matter who you are or where you come from. Bolt slapping his chest in Beijing. Ali lighting the flame in Atlanta. Freeman sprinting for gold in Sydney. To those, add the moment Steph Rice poked her head out of the water after winning the first of her 3 gold medals in Beijing; the moment a planet of men thought “DAMN, who is she?”

Yes, Ricey ticked all the boxes – the height, the figure, the smile. If she was any more your typical young Aussie starlet, she would’ve gotten out of the pool wearing a fucking Summer Bay High uniform. But frankly, not in our wildest dreams could we imagine the intangibles that would make Ricey one of the hottest properties in world sport – she seems like absolute banter.

Take the “Suck on that, faggots!” that she tweeted out after a rugby game. PC, no, but a bit more exciting than you’d expect from your average athlete. Speaking of PC, her love of a costume is – ahem – endearing, as is her choice of pose when out for the craic. In the studio, she isn’t afraid of showing some skin either, mind. She is carrying an injury, so you may want to tune into the heats, just in case. Not that it should be too much of a chore...

Idiots Guide to ‘Lympic Events #1 : Diving

The ‘Lympics is basically wall-to-wall fun unless you are one of those strange folks who doesn’t like sport. Or even understand it. Luckily, there are some events that are easier than Lindsay Lohan, and therefore comprehensible to even the most unsporting of minds. In the next few days, I’ll bring you up to speed on what you need to know to bluff your way through the next fortnight. First up: diving.

What:               Well, that is hopefully self-explanatory. Granted, there are different disciplines (springboard and platform, synchro and solo) but it all revolves around the same concept. You climb up there and dive off. Simples

Who:                Britain’s Tom Daley is pretty much the face (and self-satisfied smirk) of the Games, never mind the sport itself. He is, however, streets behind China’s Qui Bo, who is clear favourite for the gold.

Where:             In a fucking swimming pool.  This one, to be precise.

How:               Essentially, it comes down to one golden rule; splash bad. Big splash bad, small splash good, no splash excellent. It must be stressed, before the real lateral thinkers start piping up, that one is obliged to dive; it may be true that the ultimate method to avoid splash would be not jump in the water, but that doesn’t really get good marks. As for marks – use your head. The more you think “Christ, I couldn’t do that”, the better they’re doing.

Do say:            “That over-rotation could cost him. And his ankles were coming apart a little”

Don't say:        "Ever see that John Smith's ad? Hilarious"

FAQ of The 'Lympics Log - Volume 1

Obviously, this blog is as much a learning device as it is a source of light entertainment. Accordingly, I will endevour to answer queries from the reading public- if you have questions you want answered, hit the comments sections.

• Dear ‘Lympics Log,

What is the meaning behind the 5 rings on the Olympic Flag?

Despite the widely accepted theory that it is to do with the five competing continents, it is actually a reflection of the five main traits desired in any Olympic champion: integrity, attractiveness, awesomeness, winningness and richitude.

• Dear ‘Lympics Log,

Exactly how old is RTE’s rambling "Memory Man” Jimmy Magee?

It is not possible to measure Jimmy Magee’s age in human years. It’s a bit like when your calculator goes haywire because the number is too high. After careful research, however, I can exclusively reveal that Jimmy is 2.67 praktons old. The Dead Sea Scrolls are 1.72 praktons old, if that helps to put it into context…

• Dear 'Lympics Log,

Why are Olympic boxers not allowed to have facial hair?

Officially, the word from high is that beards can cause abrasions to opponents faces, and more importantly doctors maintain that clean shaven athletes allow them to see cuts during the fight. Unofficially, it's because Jacques Rogge has a burning hatred of facial hair ever since walking in on his sister getting spit-roasted by ZZ Top.