So, suddenly, we in Britain are taking a new interest in the Olympics. For years, the event heralded a horrible few weeks as we watched plucky Brit after plucky Brit try and, mostly, fail to succeed in a host of sports. The have-a-go but hapless British sportsman was embodied in the bespectacled ski-jumper Eddie “The Eagle” Edwards. Remember him?
And then this year, from seemingly nowhere, come a host of medal winners, and we are third in the medal table behind China and the USA! Newspapers are deliciously filled with reports of foreign coaches at the cycling track events muttering: “Are you going to leave anything to the rest of us?”
And we have women and men in space age costumes with pointy hats and amazing bikes and even more amazing names as Wendy Houvenaghel battles it out with champion Rebecca Romero at the Laoshan Velodrome track. Twenty first century or what!
After all the unseen hard work they and the other medal winners have obviously put in, I don’t begrudge Romero’s comment that: “Everyone else looks to me like they are rolling over and dying”. As the BBC says: “We have this sport (cycling) in a most un-British, vice-like grip”. I would add rowing and swimming to that and had it not been for Zara Phillips’ horse having an injury I’m sure we would have done well in the equestrian arena too.
All of which makes me realise that we are a nation of undercover rural champions.
I live in a village, and every weekend there are massive cycle races and meetings with men and women in tight Lycra suits and beautiful bikes gathered together at about 8am before they set off for the odd 50 mile or so ‘fun’ race. I see them, heads down, peddling away as they ascend some of the rare hills around here and I’ve never thought ‘Oh there goes a potential Olympian”. No, I think to myself: “I must get my old bike out and go for a five mile round trip later, stopping off at the Reindeer pub en route”.
Similarly, I see boats on the reservoir near the Trent River and horses and their riders everywhere. Again, I think pleasant thoughts about how they are keeping fit and having a great hobby. I have been conditioned to expect to see Olympians training in a stadium or even, in a Rocky kind of way, suffering for their sport in a gritty urban landscape.
This is the thing really. So much of what we do is hidden. You wouldn’t think anything much goes on in my village other than the shops and restaurants and pubs you can see. And the Women’s Institute and bowling green. But I know of a law practice, architects practice and leading Villa lettings agency and that’s just from word of mouth. There are so many people working from home or in small businesses that we have a whole knowledge economy and hidden wisdom pulsating under our nose.
Who knows, the 2012 shooting champion could be the same person I heard shooting across the fields late yesterday afternoon. The next Richard Branson may be popping in the Co-op on Main Street now for a sandwich to break up his day at his computer as he conducts business around the world. I love it. It suddenly feels exciting here and I can’t wait for the next cycling race as I may well stand and watch this time!
Why not check out a great UK site on cycling:
http://cyclinginfo.co.uk/blog/
