Tuesday, 26 August 2008

London 2012? Get set for Gary Glitter

25th August 2008

    Richard Littlejohn


Just imagine if I had written a parody of the Olympic handover ceremony, which had included a portrait of Fred West, a simulated suicide bombing and a stabbing.

I'd have been accused of tipping a tsunami on the parade and belittling Britain's achievements - not only in Beijing, but in winning the honour of staging the Games in 2012.

Steady on, Rich. You've gone a bit too far this time.

London 2012 cartoon


But even I couldn't have made up what we got on the night.

In the Bird's Nest stadium on Sunday, the decapitated double-decker looked just like the bus blown up in Tavistock Square on July 7.

And who thought it would be a good idea to show a promotional video featuring a picture of Myra Hindley, one of our most notorious murderers, tastefully made up of thousands of children's handprints?

Back home, security jobsworths were busy turning away hundreds of people with tickets from the celebrations in the Mall, and the big screens beaming back events in China broke down.

Over in East London, plans to show the closing ceremony to a crowd at the site of the 2012 Games were abandoned after a teenager was stabbed to death.

Oh, and elf 'n'safety warned anyone intending to go to Heathrow to cheer our returning athletes to stay away.

Welcome to Britain. Have A Nice Day. 

I know we would be unwise to try to match the spectacular scale of Beijing when the Games comes to London in four years' time. 

But surely for the closing ceremony handover we could have come up with something better than a post-modern riff on Summer Holiday, starring a reality TV star done up like an oven-ready chicken and a geriatric rock star with a pigtail performing Whole Lotta Love.

At least, that's what I think they were doing. It was difficult to tell, seeing as no one could hear them because of gremlins in the sound system. 

Then there was the ubiquitous David Beckham, booting a ball into the crowd with rather more expertise than he and his England team-mates managed to muster against the Czech Republic at Wembley last week.

What was Beckham doing there? 

He's the antithesis of the selfless, Olympian ideal - a man who has chosen to debase his waning talent by prostituting himself for hundreds of millions of dollars playing football in a 'major' league made up of pub teams.

At least he didn't cry this time. 

Is this really the image of Britain we wish to project to the world? I cringe to think what they might come up with in 2012 if this dog's breakfast was anything to go by.

Look at the ludicrous London Olympics logo, which seems to have been drawn by a dyslexic graffiti artist.

The organisers are trying so hard to be cutting edge that they've ended up looking stupid - like a drunken uncle in inappropriate trousers trying to dance to rap music at a silver wedding.

I'm not advocating a biscuit tin pageant, featuring beefeaters, bagpipers, Morris dancers and pearly kings.

But don't be surprised if, in four years' time, the Olympic torch is carried into the stadium in East London by Jade Goody, following a march past by the Bradford chapter of Islamic Jihad, a 21-gun salute from the Brixton Crazee Eyez Killaz drive-by shooting posse - and a concert by Gary Glitter.

That's if they've managed to shift the illegal gipsy camp off the track and field in time and the whole complex hasn't been shut down by elf 'n'safety.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those who believes London should never have bid for the games.

A few years ago, when it was first mooted, I made a documentary for ITV on the feasibility and desirability of bringing the Olympics home.

Despite my innate scepticism, I concluded that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and we should go for it. 

I was impressed by the dedication of the British Olympic officials and the enthusiasm of the young athletes I met.

But I also predicted it would cost several times the original estimate and probably wouldn't be ready on time.

After the fiasco of the Millennium Dome and the notorious incompetence which seems to accompany just about everything this government touches, the capacity for cock-up and embarrassment was always going to be immense.

I hope for the best, but fear the worst. And that was without Myra Hindley and the exploding bus. 


Give that man a gold medal... for brass neck

Gordon Browwn

Gordon Brown greets won of team GB's medal winners at Heathrow Airport

It's a bit rich Gordon Brown turning round now and lamenting the dearth of competitive sport in schools. 

Not least since he went out of his way toavoid competition as he bludgeoned his way into 10 Downing Street.

When he was at the Treasury, he was responsible for fiscal policies which forced councils to sell off playing fields to property developers.

Before he actually got the top job, we were constantly being told that he was the 'real' Prime Minister, in charge of all domestic policy.

Gordon's had 11 years to speak out against the pernicious doctrine of denying children their right to play competitive sport on the grounds that if everyone can't win, then no one should be allowed to.

This has been at the heart of Labour's education policy for donkey's years, and was ruthlessly enforced by barking mad Left-wing councils.

I don't remember a peep of condemnation or concern from him until now. He even says he wants to bring back boxing in schools to instill discipline.

That will have elf'n'safety reaching for the smelling salts.

He praises team games for teaching children how to work together. Yet it's a lessonhe's never learned, despite playing rugby as a boy. I don't know anyone who would accuse Gordon of being a team player.

This change of heart is part of yet another Brown relaunch, which will involve throwing more money at sport in schools.

But he claims to have spent £4 billion on school sport since Labour came to power, and we've still got a shortage of first-class facilities.

So where's the money gone? 

Under Labour, schoolchildren have got fatter, not fitter. It'll take more than one opportunist speech to put things right. 

Our Beijing heroes don't need Gordon's two-bob gongs

Britain's successful Olympians are being lined up for gongs. Cyclist Chris Hoy could be knighted. Swimmer Rebecca Adlington may get an OBE or a CBE.

But why would they want one? There is no greater honour than winning an Olympic medal.

And how will it be decided who gets what? What could be more unseemly than dividing up our athletes into MBEs, CBEs, knighthoods and damehoods?

There is a case for honouring some sporting figures. Sir Alf Ramsey, who won the World Cup for England, comes to mind.

Sir Steve Redgrave, for historic feats over a long career, is another exception.

But tacking on an MBE - the kind of gong they routinely dole out to minor civil servants at the Ministry of Lost Laptops - is almost demeaning to an Olympic champion.

Of course, this is just a cynical attempt by Gordon Brown to get some of the gold-dust to rub off on him. All Prime Ministers do it.

Our brilliant Beijing medallists don't need a two-bob 'honour' from a political chancer.

Their glorious achievements - and a nation's pride and gratitude - should be enough. 


• What a relief to have Boris representing London in Beijing, rather than Red Ken.

He didn't drop the flag and his speech was that wonderful confection of arcane information, self-deprecation and simultaneous self-promotion which Boris manages to pull off with aplomb.

There's even something endearing about Mayor Johnson's many gaffes, though Call Me Dave might not always agree.

At least he comes across as a sympathetic member of the human race, free of the sheer nastiness and political point-scoring of his predecessor.

Boris never wears his classical education lightly, but deploys it to great effect. I loved the Ping-Pong's Coming Home routine.

And here we were thinking that 'whiff-whaff' were the people who pay Jonathan Ross's wages.

Dance band on the Titanic

Meanwhile, back in the bubble, there's fevered speculation about an imminent Cabinet reshuffle when Gordon Brown gets back from the waxworks summit in Beijing.

David Miliband is apparently going to be made Chancellor to 'keep him quiet'. And what, exactly, qualifies him for that job?

Some other sinecure will have to be found for Gordon's glove-puppet, Alistair Darling.

Jacqui Smith may be moved, too, after being found out at the Home Office.

Where does anyone get the idea that shuffling the same old faces around is a recipe for success? Why should someone who has failed in one job excel in another?

If our Olympic showjumpers had fallen at the first fence, they wouldn't have been asked to try their hand at the javelin next time round.

This is a reshuffle only in the sense of the Titanic and deckchairs. 

Posted by Britannia Radio at 08:07