I’m not sure if it’s just me but I can’t really get excited about the Commonwealth Games. I know that they are meant to be a wonderful thing, bringing together countries from all over the world to an event that is perceived to be “friendlier” than the Olympics.
But that’s the trouble, it’s not the Olympics when the whole world gets together and it’s a proper competition to be the very best. It’s just a group of countries which Britain took over in the glory days of Queen Victoria.
For goodness’ sake, the Aussies aren’t even very keen on being part of the whole set-up and, to be honest, I can’t really see what benefit they get from being attached to us.
I was out on Wednesday evening and by the time I got back most of the opening ceremony had taken place. I missed the spinning Tunnock’s teacakes, Rod Stewart, SuBo and some ranting councillor who seems to have amused some of my friends.
What I saw was a grey-haired man blathering away and then the Queen, who’s hardly a bundle of laughs even when she’s jumping out of a helicopter.
I did get a glimpse of the Scotland team all clad in those hideous clothes; whoever was responsible for choosing that design must be having a good old giggle somewhere and I bet it isn’t Glasgow.
I’m not sure I’ll be tuning in to many of the events, although if him indoors gets hold of the remote control it may well be droning on in the background while I do something important and interesting, like the ironing.
I suppose if I was a sporty gal things might be a bit more interesting, but I haven’t jumped over a hurdle since I was 13 and swimming is a task I undertake in order to try and counteract the effect of foods such as the aforementioned tea cakes.
Still, I really shouldn’t rain on their parade. If Scottish athletes start winning lots of medals I might change my mind. Having the courage of my convictions isn’t something for which I’d get a gold.