How we lived a dream, an inspiration…and now it’s all OVER!

For a confirmed sports-phoebe like me, (‘I spied on you’ quite definitely does not count) coming up with a full-blown write-up on the Games is no mean feat, by personal standards. I’m assuming my name will go up on the wall somewhere.

I was groomed in an environment where I never participated in any remotely energy-sapping sport other than a distilled version of cat and mice. My parents took the concept of ‘brain over brawn’ much too seriously. That does not in any way mean I turned out to be the next Nobel Laureate in the neighbourhood. On the contrary, there are hardly any intelligent cells left… (Whether they were created in the first place is again fiercely debatable). The Sisyphus-esque job has donkey-ed me down oh so completely...however cryptic and dramatic that sounds!

The point is, the London 2012 Olympic Games, has come to a close. Of course we have the Paralympics still to go…but you know what I mean.

When the games started in July, I didn’t know a country called Grenada existed. Yes, I agree, I’m not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree…but hey, I now have one neuron dedicated to Grenada, Kirani James, the 400m champion mildly controlling that neuron. And if you are still interested, Usain Bolt’s first love was Cricket, and he was a fast bowler… (You now have a raised eyebrow and a half, I’m sure)

For two whole weeks, we lived an inspiration. I collected all the sports trivia I possibly could, watched almost all the games from Taekwondo to Knots and Crosses (almost), decided that Ryan Lochte is positively cute, Mary Kom, quite a champion, Nehwal an undoubted fighter, Yohan Blake a near-wolverine sprinter and Bolt, the undisputed, long term king.

And now it feels almost as empty and pointless in London, as it usually does after Christmas. It’s back to business, back to the corporate mundane, back to bad economy, back to double dips and triple scoops…till Rio. Hope the four years are a breeze.