It’s hard to put all the experiences I’ve had into words. During the games British athletes were constantly coming off the track and trying to explain how the crowd were what spurred them on; made it worthwhile; helped them win; and are forever in their favour. This is something that I feel as well. I feel as part of London 2012 as if I were an athlete, part of Team GB and part of something which could not have been any greater than what it was.
There is a sense of achievement that comes hand in hand with welcoming thousands of spectators every night. I welcomed every single guest that handed me their ticket, shared my stories and experiences with them and became part of theirs. I cannot hold back when I say that I am so incredibly proud that I was part of the greatest team, in fact I wish I could do it all again. There is nothing more humbling and liberating than receiving over a thousand thank yous a night. It’s the greatest feeling to know that you are doing something good and worthwhile which people, old and young, from every nationality appreciate.
My greatest memories of the games do not simply lie connected with the athletes and what the achieved as it may do for many, but also with what they made the crowd achieve. For five short weeks London was transformed. Whilst scanning tickets I was not met with disgruntled spectators who having stood up, squashed against a tube door for half a hour, had to wait a hour in a security queue that did nothing other than tell them to throw away their water, patiently move as one with the huge crowds coming into the park, walk miles whilst being annoyed by people dressed in purple and red, parched from the lack of water, and watch athletics that was less than inspiring. I was not met with such people, because London achieved something that simply meant that such moods were instantly irradiated. Instead people came in leaps and bounds, families raced each other down the queue lines, took photos of us scanning their tickets, asked us how our days had been all before we could even get a word in, and everyone, of all generations, were inspired.
Some days I came home so happy that all I wanted to do was stand in the stadium for another 10 hours. Sometimes all it took was a simple look at my accreditation to know my name and to be personally thanked by a spectator to catch me off guard and make my etched-on smile even wider. To have some one stop on the way out to thank you for doing such an amazing job when all you were doing was saying goodnight to people and helping a few lost wanders find their way to the correct station, is a delight which seems like I shouldn’t have had because I was enjoying myself too much. Showing a few people directly to their seats was exchanged with a handshake and an enormous thank you, and offering to be the personal photographer for families of all nationalities was met with joyous faces and eternal thanks. There were times when I’d simply be walking to the station in Kent and people would stop me on my way and ask me about the games, people on their bikes rode past shouting ‘well done Games Maker!’ and kind strangers at bus stops went out of their way to talk to and congratulate me on what the games makers had achieved when a particular day didn’t end as brilliantly as yesterdays. I was only one out of 70,000 and yet I alone felt like I had made the games.
I feel spoilt. I feel like I haven’t deserved all the thanks that I was given. Talking to friends at home who had been at the games genuinely questioned what it was that we were told in our briefing rooms, what we were given to eat, that meant that everyone, even the poor games makers on the last mile, who had never been into the park, were so incredibly happy all the time. The truth is that we all loved it. There was no binding contract to being a Games Maker, no threats if we didn’t come in one day, only people saying what an amazing job we were doing. We were all doing an amazing job because we loved it so much. The excitement and the buzz never got boring or old. It was a privilege I cannot believe I’ve had and one that I certainly won’t forget in a hurry. I don’t feel like I should hold back in telling people my tales of the Olympics because I feel so incredibly lucky to have been there. I feel so privileged to have spoken to sport enthusiasts, been there for young inspired children who have asked if I can do the trade mark Bolt pose with them. I have wished athlete’s nervous families to pass on my luck, found lost children with ‘Wenlock fever’ and reunited them with their parents, helped journalists and broadcasters lug their very expensive filming equipment up and down the stairs, and run with a athlete’s disabled coach in a wheel chair right round the stadium just in the nick of time for them to see their young star reach that gold medal they so deserved, all whilst catching a lot of world class athletics myself.
For me there is nothing at all that could come close to replicating the sound and atmosphere of 80,000 people standing up and belting out the national anthem in honour of a triumphant Greg Rutherford or Jessica Ennis amongst many others. It goes without saying that the atmosphere is indescribable and other worldly. Mo Farah’s final 5000m on the last night of athletics is some of the most exciting sports I’ve ever seen. The intense sound of a 80,000 strong audience cheering, shouting ‘GO MO!’ screaming, jumping up and down, and waving flags is the most jubilant, happy and all encompassing feeling of genuine unadulterated delight I’ve ever experienced. It’s difficult to comprehend the elation and atmosphere that was felt when after 600m of sprinting at the front, Mo Farah finally crossed the finishing line, double Olympic champion. It’s moments like those when it’s perfectly acceptable for a games maker to hug the Swedish athletes that have been joining in with the great British support that were standing just behind. Never have I felt such glee and swelled celebration. It’s something I will not ever forget. I’m truly grateful to my 17 year old self for submitting an application, I certainly won’t forget the things I’ve seen and heard, the wonderful people I’ve met and the feeling that I really was an important part in making Team GB our greatest team ever.
