SUNDAY 08/24

-Last day of the O’s!

-A funny thing: one of the “pump-up” tracks played in the National Stadium was from the Ghost Recon soundtrack. I wonder if they actually acquired the license.

-Woke up early to see if I could catch indoor volleyball and handball. Ended up just having time to see handball, Russia vs. Poland. It’s a funny game. Here’s what gets me: soccer keepers have to defend a massive net from a ball that has been kicked at high velocity and potentially infinitely close range. Handball goalies have a considerably smaller net to defend, the ball is roughly the same size and goes slower, and attackers can’t get within a certain range of the net, and yet they still let in dozens more goals than their keeper counterparts. Hmm. . .

-Rushed to the bus to try to catch water polo. After a few minutes waiting for the bus in the blistering sun I decided to instead check out some of the sponsorship exhibitions. I trekked through the IBC to the side gate, only to watch them close and padlock it: Closing Ceremony access road restrictions were going into effect. Stymied, I decided I might as well just take a nap on the big leather couches in the lobby. When I arrived, the couches were already strewn with napping and resting journalists with not one seat left. Getting discouraged, I resolved to just go to the Lenovo internet café and check my email. Thankfully they had an open computer, or I might have flipped out.

-On my way out of the café I noticed one of the Olympic torches in a display case in the wall. I asked the attendant if I could take a picture of it. “Of course!” she said, then waited there expectantly while I withdrew my camera and took a few shots. Before I could even turn to leave, the attendant incredulously asked, “Well, don’t you want to hold it?!” I said, “Sure. . .” and withdrew the torch from the case. I stood there admiring it for a moment, hefting it, examining the flame-producing mechanism. The woman remained there staring expectantly. Sure enough, as I moved to put the torch back in its case, the woman interjected, “Well, don’t you want to have your picture taken with it? Out here in the hall?” That seemed like a good idea, and frankly I wasn’t about to disagree with this woman. So there I stood, feeling more than a little self conscious, holding an unlit Olympic torch aloft in a crowded internet café filled with cynical journalists.

-Funny things around the IBC: the entire cooking staff was Scottish, and they all spoke with heavy Scottish accents. And the Starbucks employees were literally the friendliest, most outgoing and happy people I have ever met in my entire life. And it wasn’t that superficial, bouncy, in-your-face kind of friendly—it was for real. Starbucks literally seemed to have combed Asia to find such uniquely friendly people, since the baristas were from such far-flung regions as Taiwan and Thailand.

-Just like with the Opening Ceremony, the task of making the Closing Ceremony scripts fell to the research runners, which of course meant that one again, I knew the whole show ahead of time. I also got the print out our very last start lists and results, which was satisfying—most of the time my shift carried me through until half or three quarters of the day’s games were over, so I had to print all day but never got the satisfaction of actually finishing. This time, it was I alone who got to scrawl the “DONE” in big, highlighter letters across our printing schedule.

-The Closing Ceremony was, in this man’s humble opinion, terrible compared to the Opening. The artistic bit was cool but obviously could never exceed the Opening and just felt like more of the same. The speeches were interminable; watching the torch die was depressing. We all had a good laugh when Boris Johnson, mayor of London, came onstage looking completely disheveled and clueless.

-After my shift and the end of the Ceremony, a number of us found our way to the café on the rooftop of the Main Press Center. I hung around for a bit but was altogether too tired to be much fun, so I took my leave.

-On my way out the door, I had the random afterthought of jumping on a computer in the internet café. Once there, I jumped on Skype, took a leap of faith that my phone could call internationally, correctly guessed which combination of numbers would get me dialed out of the country, and called home. By some chance, my whole family was home at the same time and could access Skype almost instantaneously. It was the first time I’d spoken with them since I’d left for China and it was great.

-Went home and fell asleep mid-sentence while writing this journal entry.