I remember the day we won the Olympics with total clarity. I always thought it was a good thing. I always thought we would make a success of it. It made me feel good. Even then I was excited by the prospect of the Olympics coming to London...and I felt sure I would have a part to play, although I couldn't at that time guess what part.
When it was announced there were crowds in Trafalgar Square, and the media was there in droves to capture the moment. There was one picture that caught my eye, and I decided to do something with it. I blew it up massively (50 x 70cm), and then used photoshop to pixelate it. I then printed it out section by section on A4 sheets before piecing it all together and framing it. I was very pleased with it, and since that day it has hung on the bedroom wall...all those years
You can imagine how spooky it was to arrive in Brighton this weekend to find this:
The picture had fallen off the wall and the glass had smashed into a thousand or more pieces. Right in the middle of the Olympics. After seven years, for no apparent reason it was just sitting there on the floor. The picture itself is badly damaged.
I've tried to work out if this could be anything more than just bizarre coincidence. It can't be. I've had a brilliant Olympic Games...far better than I could ever have imagined. Opening Ceremony aside, we managed an evening watching, among others Usain Bolt at the Stadium, other nights we've been glued to the BBC coverage, and on Sunday The Boy and I are off to Hadleigh to watch what must be the last Olympic sporting event...the mountain biking. As the kids say, "Truly Awesome!"
But for a moment, just for a moment the sight of that picture smashed on the floor mad eme think that something must have been wrong. But there isn't...my memories of the Olympics will go on and on and on. Still it is a very spooky coincidence indeed.