Monday 13 August 2012

Olympic Update 14: The True Olympic Legacy


The London Olympics has drawn to a close, and the word ‘legacy’ and phrase ‘inspire a generation’ continues to reverberate around the media, driving many to the point where the legacy that has been left to them is to inspire a generation to shut the fuck up about the legacy of inspiring a generation. But aside from repeating the same hollow phrases endlessly until they become nothing more than nonsensical groups of syllables whose meaning has become far less than the sum of their parts, what will we take away from the London Olympics? What is its true legacy, the legacy that will inspire a generation? What is the thing that we will remember most about the Games, the memory which will inspire a generation through its legacy?

Will it be washboard stomached, jack of all trades, Olympic poster girl, Jessica Ennis, triumphing in the heptathlon?  

What about cheerier 3D version of Edvard Munch’s The Scream, Mo Farah, running very fast twice? 


Or damp-smelling, “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry” sailing boater, Ben Ainslie, becoming the best ever Olympic pirate?

Pool pissing American man-fish, Michael Phelps, winning his 53rd gold medal in just two Olympic competitions?

Self proclaimed living legend and perpetually mucking about Jamaican joker, Usain Bolt, running very fast three times?

The Spice Girls?

No. In my opinion (and it’s clearly my opinion that counts here - if you don't like it get your own blog to fill with incoherent bollocks) by far and away the lastingest memory; the true symbol of the Games; the thing that will inspire a generation the most; the real legacy of the London Olympics 2012 is quite plainly the golden post boxes. These golden symbols of triumph doubling as transitory letter receptacles are everything the British Olympics should stand for. They stand proud and tall, but not ostentatiously tall, not too showy like American golden post boxes would be if they existed, probably. They share form and function in equal measure, much like Victoria Pendleton, Tom Daley and Claire Balding. And, of course, their instatement is not without its minor cock-ups and controversies.

You'll never get that in there, love

Of course the golden post boxes will help us on the road to future Olympic success, as they act as a visual marker of where in the country the best genes can be found. Unsurprisingly golden post boxes can be found in the traditionally industrious cities of Sheffield and Leeds; less predictably their presence can be found in Harlow and Milton Keynes. Anyway, now that we know where the rich genetic pools of athleticism are, all contraception can be removed from these areas (perhaps with the exception of Harlow and Milton Keynes) and deposited into areas lacking in shiny postal street furniture. Having put this strategy in place, all we need to do is sit back until the Kabul 2032 Olympic Games when we will have an army of 20 year-old world beating athletic super humans. And all the fat disease-riddled chavs will have died off by then.

Now, that is what I call a legacy.        


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