The Daily Telegraph, Sydney, 15 September 2000
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Oh, you know, another lazy Friday morning. Wake up, have a coffee, tinker about the house a bit. Um, what should we do today? Maybe drop by and see what's happening down at ... THE OLYMPIC GAMES. ARRRGH! So here we finally are -- the official start of Sydney's Olympic Games. Let's take a moment to let the significance of this sink in. For, regardless of what comes to pass in the next few weeks, history -- time immemorial -- has already earmarked this day in this city -- 15 September 2000, Sydney, Australia -- as the time and place, the start of the Games Of The XXVII Modern Olympiad. And Sydney is appropriately already in full party mode. If you weren't in the thick of it last night (but didn't I see you there?) then check out the news pages for what you missed out on. But let me just say that being at the Town Hall last night, and later in The Domain, were unforgettable experiences. But that was still just warm-up stuff. As everyone is very aware, my friends, it all begins in earnest today. On Wednesday night, I was lucky enough to be one of the 90,000 select folk to attend the final dress rehearsal of the Opening Ceremony. What can I say? I feel privileged. How extraordinary that something so complex, so big, involving so many people can be kept so secret for so long. What an overwhelming display of colour and movement. A couple of the sequences were truly mind-blowing, like having your dreams acted out by a cast of thousands. But virtually everyone in the world will see what I mean in a few hours. While I was sitting in Stadium Australia, quite a few of my oldest friends were sitting in another great stadium 1000km further south. As soon as I got home, I phoned them. I wanted to know what the real Olympic Spirit tastes like, how it felt to watch the first true combatants of these Games: Australia versus Italy in the first round of the Olympic football competition in front of close to 100,000 spectators at the Melbourne Cricket Ground. And, yeah, apparently it's really cool. (Well, der!) One of my friends complained about having his key-ring Swiss Army knife confiscated and thrown out at the gate. Security was even checking behind everyone's belt-buckles. Once inside, though, he noted how bizarre it was to watch such a massive sporting event without having your senses bombarded by advertising placards. I still can't quite imagine that; a sports stadium free of any advertising. How are we supposed to know what we want to drink, to eat, to wear? And then there was the strange way in which everything you hear over the public address system is said in French and then repeated in English. From memory, that never happens at local league matches. Now, as we stand on the cusp of these Olympic Games, my one concern is that I already feel -- how do the French say? -- rooted. This build-up, this tension, dress rehearsals, test events -- they've taken it out of me. But I'm trying to be strong. I want to experience all the fun and joy that these Olympic Games can cram into my existence. So I'm turning to all these athletes who have descended on our city for some inspiration, inspiration to make me push my body harder, to never give up, to -- well, party, party, party! Like all these Olympians, I too will strive to excel in my chosen discipline.
