The Daily Telegraph, Sydney, 18 September 2000
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What is wrong with you people? When I took the partying oath last week on behalf of everyone, when I stood on this exact same spot -- one hand over my heart, one finger pressed on the nearest set of Olympic rings I could find -- and swore I would "push my body harder, to never give up, to party-party-party'', I didn't mean: ``Don't ever sleep.'' Sorry if I caused confusion, but do you mad people understand that today is only day three of competition? Do you get what that means? I'll do the calculation for you. There are still 13 days -- and nights -- to go! What part of that do you intend to spend unconscious? What I'm saying here, my dear readers, is pace yourselves. Look at this like a Kenyan long-distance runner rather than an American sprinter. Yes, I know we are living in extraordinarily celebratory times, but let's not lose our heads. Give the brain cells a chance to remember some of it. May I add, what's with you morons at Martin Place? You know who you are. Good on you. There is a chance you have screwed it up for everyone. There was no clubbing in Martin Place over the weekend, thanks to the chaos of Friday evening. There might not be any tonight either -- we'll find out during the day. If we do get the DJs back, try to show a modicum of respect for your fellow man. This is a party, not a bordello. That said, what an extraordinary few days it's been. Funny how it feels the torch arrival was years ago, rather than Thursday. There has been just so much to take in. For those who have already incurred some brain damage, here is a checklist of some of the great moments so far. First, the torch arrival night. Has Sydney ever felt such a buzz? When was the last time we collectively told the Lord Mayor to shut up and hurry up? Wasn't it amazing to be in the crowd at Town Hall ... at the concert in the Domain ... dancing in Martin Place? If we lose the club at Martin Place because of the stupidity of a handful of drunken idiots, there will be hell to pay! Then there was the opening ceremony. Go you fish. Go you little girl. Go you Ned Kellys. Go Cathy. Go cauldron. Um, go cauldron. Please, cauldron, go! The relief! The pride! And that was all before we had seen any sport. I was up early on Saturday morning, in the Royal Botanic Gardens just after sunrise for the start of the women's triathlon. What a cool vibe to be out and about in the Olympic city, mixing it -- for a change -- with the bright-eyed sports fans, rather than the red-eyed party-goers. I spent the rest of Saturday on the couch at home, in front of the telly, away from the madding crowds. It was just me and the greatest athletes in the world, doing what they do best, doing what they've all waited four years to do. And did it make for great television or what? God bless ya, Thorpie! God bless all you Aussie boys and girls -- both on the sporting decks and up in the stands. You are making these Olympics feel like the biggest school sports carnival ever. Will anything ever match seeing Australia's name at the top of the medal tally after the first day of competition? Yeah, probably. We have still got a couple of weeks to write this history. Let's hope it is more about glory than silly drunken crap.
