Gold

A long time ago and far, far away I wanted to be an athlete. An Olympic one at that. It was my first ambition in life. Was it ever likely? Well, at the age of 6 years old I most certainly thought it was. Back then you could dream big because you were allowed to and, more importantly, you allowed yourself to. All things were possible. Unfortunately, circumstances and life in general made sure it was never a realistic proposition. I guess I was never going to be fast enough, able to go high enough, or be strong enough - that's how I figured it as the years wore on. But such piddling details have never detracted from my eternal love of the greatest show on earth, the Olympic Games. And this time around it’s only right for me to return to London, the town of my birth, to celebrate its moment in the sun. So I’m jumping on a plane this week to soak up the atmosphere. I can’t wait.

Keeping with the Olympics vibe, my friends at Inner Space released a charming 'Thought of The Day' the other day:

Life is a sport. Are you a spectator, a coach or a player? The spectator sits outside the game, airs opinions and cheers the game with enthusiasm and passion. The coach is also outside the game, but has a significant role in empowering and supporting the player. The player is in the game, focused on the now, focused on the results and on improving their game. Take part in the game and know when to be a spectator, a coach or a player.

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

It's that time of year again. Wimbledon. Two weeks of the finest tennis you'll see anywhere on the planet, at the mercy of the Great British summer and overpriced strawberries and cream. 

I would never say that I was a officiando of the sport, but having grown up not a million miles away from the tournament I've always got wrapped up in the whole fortnight.

It was never hard to be inspired by some of the many greats that walked the hallowed turf on Centre Court: Becker, Williams, McEnroe, Navratilova, Sampras, Graf, Agassi, Evert, Borg and on and on we go. 

So it's no surprise that Britain's obsession with finding its next Wimbledon singles winner, akin to the second coming of a messiah, is about to go into overdrive. Andy Murray, the dour-faced but steely-determined world number 4, is pitted in the men's final against one of the greatest players that has ever walked this earth, Roger Federer. 

Of course, this is flag-waving tabloid heaven. St George against the Dragon (albeit Murray is Scottish and not English), immovable object against irresistible force, the Dunkirk spirit of backs against the wall stuff. And all in what's been packaged as a glorious year for the UK - the Queen's Diamond Jubilee (Britain's last singles winner, Virginia Wade, was in the Silver Jubilee year); the London Olympics; and the opening of the Shard, the tallest skyscraper in Western Europe and a symbol of renewed national belief.

I may be a bit of a" lapsed Brit" these days, insofar as I haven't lived there for much of the last decade, but none of the symbolism escapes me. But turning to Murray the man, I found it really interesting reading a piece he wrote prior to his semi final. He said how he likes to chat with other athletes, especially individual athletes, because the mindset is similar to that of tennis players. 

Boxing was a particular area of interest, as they are so strong mentally, work extremely hard and ultimately put themselves in danger if they're not focused. But they are also like the rest of us, albeit able to switch it on when it counts. Mike Tyson, for example, has said he has "often walked to the ring petrified he might lose, but as soon as he stepped in there he thought nobody could beat him, he felt invincible."

I guess the reason this has resonated with me is because we forget sometimes how very human great sportsmen and sportswomen are. They can be determined, they can be focused, they can be nervous, they can be angry, they can lose the plot. They can be like you or I. 

There is nothing wrong as such with the "yes, we can" type platitudes but for me realising that people that we put on a pedestal are, deep down, no different to the rest of us is a very big thing for me. Get the mindset, the focus and application right, and you too can go places.

And on Sunday, may the best man called Murray win...

Going on holiday

I've been on holiday recently. Nowhere fancy, mind you. In fact, I found myself back in my old stomping ground in London catching up with friends and family that it had been too long in not seeing. It totally did the job. I stepped away from the noise and fog of my current day-to-day existence and stepped into London’s own melee, only in the latter's case reconnecting with a lifetime of familiarity - the cancellations on the London Underground because of the wrong kind of sun; the crazily busy shopping districts stuffed full of people not really shopping; the cardiac arrest-inducing pounding of the pocket; the choice of drizzle or a sheet of grey sky at the click of a switch. But that’s what made it all fine. It was bizarrely reassuring.

I know, I know we’re meant to look forward and avoid living too much in the past, and many of my memories are so very rose tinted. The fact is we all move on. But it was a world I know and had partly forgotten and one that was oddly comforting. And it wasn’t about, as those boys at Oasis may say, looking back in anger. It was just nice. After all, life doesn’t always have to be new, fresh and exciting, does it?