One year ago

Well, London, world, mopping blog readers (leave the best until last, eh?), it has been a year.

I doubt I will surprise anyone by saying this, but I miss being in London and it being 2012.

I am currently not in London and it is 2013 (well spotted, I can hear you say), but I can hear the Underworld track ''And I Will Kiss'' in the background of the BBC's ''Anniversary Games'' (a song which has, since, become my most loved of EPIC DRIVING TRACKS, if you would like a fact of the day), I can see the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Stadium, I have just watched the Games Maker who sat next to me at the SPOTY Awards be interviewed (small world and all that), and am just about to re-witness the Queen jumping out of a helicopter. So, as far as I am concerned, today is a good day. Just as it was a year ago.

On my desk at university I keep a laminated article of quotes that people made about the Games Makers. You know, just because in moments of essay-desperation a casual ego-boost is always helpful. (Dear lecturer who will remain anonymous, you may have set me this essay, but I mopped the Olympic badminton courts, SO THERE, NURRRRRRRR).

As fellow blogger and former sports editor of the Independent, Charlie Burgess, said:

''The Big Purple and Red Society really did work. Let’s keep it that way''.

We did the Olympics well, London. And so, with my Olympic-fix sorted for the time being and with renewed pride to be British (welcome to the world, George the Royal Baby- I would be lying If I said that I wasn't one of the super-keen-enthusiasts who kept the Tatler live-stream from the Lindo Wing on for two days), I feel fairly well prepared to head off to be an English Language Assistant in Germany for a while. But not until I've had my interview for the Commonwealth Games in 2014. This volunteering malarkey has to be done properly, after all. 

10 Downing Street and the Trafford Centre

(Obviously it did include an address, but I've edited it out
to avoid any unwanted parties on my doorstep)

I paid a flying visit home the other day and was super excited to find out that there was a letter from my new BFF, PM Dave Cameron, in my letter pile on the kitchen table. Now, bearing in mind the fact that my letter pile isn't ever particularly well sorted/ neat/ tidy/ read, me actually discovering my post from Downing Street was pretty much a minor miracle. But nevertheless a very exciting one. And, given the circumstances, I also decided to make a rare exception, and accept the usage of my full name...

Spotted looking a tad out of place
at a recent badmo tournament!

A blast from my Velodrome past... Yes, I
did once dabble in trophy presenting...

The following day I headed to the Trafford Centre with my mum to look at heaters (my blog is so super exciting, I know!) and also for some Team GB cycling action. Now, in a strange sporting link, there are actually badminton courts in the middle of the National Cycling Centre (aka the Manchester Velodrome) and so I have previously been known to play with Team GB whizzing around the track (complete with their coach's bell and megaphone combo, which isn't exactly the best recipe for success when combined with my admittedly-not-fantastic attention span...). Also, just because I'm whacking out the big facts today, I did actually make my mopping debut there at the 2006 English National Badminton Championships (Wikipedia, take note).

 

But anyway... long story short and badminton and cycling connections aside, an Olympic gold medal and an Olympic silver medal decided to make an appearance in Waterstones. Along with, obviously, their owner, Victoria Pendleton, and her recently released book, 'Between the Lines'. (I am aware that that sounded mildly like the start of one of those ''an Englishman, an Irishman and a Scottish man walk into a bar'' jokes, but I can only ever remember the start of them, so please don't expect a punchline or any da, da, da, boom cymbals or anything). 

 

I'm an unashamed completely nosey Mopper and I love autobiographies (Gail Emms, get on it asap), so, in true Games Maker vs. languages student style, I had been switching between reading 'Between the Lines' and 'Harry Potter' in Russian ever since the former came out. Just before the Olympics both Victoria Pendleton and Usain Bolt had been featured on BBC documentaries within a couple days of each other, and I'd watched the two programmes in succession as I'd packed for the big move to London. Bearing in mind that they're both massively successful world class athletes, I wasn't surprised at all by Usain Bolt's confidence. Her, well, distinct lack of it, was slightly more surprising. I'll let her (and probably the Daily Mail) tell her story, but the lady on the till when I bought the book was pretty accurate when she described the book as being ''really honest''. It's honest to the point that it's not always easy to read, but, at the same time, it's refreshing that she has been so open, and, while the Mopper is no book critic, she would greatly encourage that you read it. (It's better than my blog, I promise).


Anyway, as we can all probably tell where this story is going, Victoria Pendleton signed muh book and made muh day. She was also absolutely lovely (and slightly worried about her appearance on Strictly Come Dancing this season) and can be added to the (now pretty long) list of people who think that I'm far younger than I actually am...

In other news, I was recently interviewed and the mopping blog may well be featured in the paper some time soon... You heard it here first, people! Da, da, da, boom! (Ok, I lied when I said there was no punchline).

We do not mope, we mop

I will miss Olympic Britain. I'm sure post Olympic Britain will be quite exciting too and everything, but I'd really much rather that it stayed August 2012 so that I could mop the Olympic badminton courts forever (I am aware that I currently sound like a spoilt child having a tantrum...). Obviously there's probably time limit when sofa-hopping stops being socially acceptable but, technicalities aside, I wouldn't exactly pass on the opportunity to do it all over again, and again, and again. And again.

After the Closing Ceremony I was left with a distinct sense of not really knowing what to do with myself. I tried mopping our dining room floor, but it just wasn't the same. I'll give it another attempt at some point with Chariots of Fire as a backing track, but I somehow doubt that that will work either...




Just so that I transfer my mad-mopping-skills to the next generation (who have hopefully been super inspired), after much careful consideration (due to the obvious extremely technical nature of court mopping), I have come up with court-mopper's-court-mopping-top-tips-for-tip-top-court-mopping:


1. Pay attention to the umpire (hint: you are most likely to be needed after a player falls over, so looking at them after this has occurred is normally quite helpful). No, don't pay attention to what is going on behind you (warning: this may involve fixed ladies doubles matches and booing) or to the yellow-shirted-Malaysians in the crowd who approach cheering in a somewhat orchestral manner (yes, they do have a conductor who sits two rows in front, but stop looking!). When the umpire gestures to you, you get up. When they don't, you don't (even if you have a player stood in front of you who clearly would appreciate some mopping action). Normally, if the phrase 'court mopper, please' is said, you could potentially have been paying more attention...

2. At 11 points, you should get up asap and mop from the service line to the back of the court. (NB: where possible, all mopping should be done in sync with your mopping partner...). If there are slight court access issues, elbowing the offending cameraman is often productive.

3. At 21 points (but not in the final set) you should get up asap and mop from the front of the net to the back of the court, again, in sync with your fellow mopper. (NB: during the interval quite an exciting sign with a countdown clock makes an appearance on one side of the court, and this should be mopped around and not hurdled. You are a court mopper and not Jessica Ennis).

4. If, at any point during your mopping adventures, a player walks back on to the court (with the exception of when you are called on to the court during a set), you should clear the court. It does not matter how much/ little you have/ have not mopped. Just. Get. Off. (NB: if they want you to come back on, they will ask the umpire and your services may be called upon again. It is perhaps best to view this as two mopping excursions for the price of one). You may even be lucky enough to hear the phrase 'Lin Dan wants you'...

5. If, once you have returned to the mopping chair, the line judges are stood up, you should stand up too. In fact, just do what the line judges do (other than the line calling part, obviously) because I find that this keeps everyone happy.  And they may just give you free sweets too.

6. Point of note: the coaches will want to go on to the court at the same time as you. Try to Usain Bolt past them when possible, but bear in mind that it is probably best not to tackle and/or fence them with a mop.

7. Mopping should be done in straight lines. If you are mopping the entire court in three diagonal swooshes, something is potentially going slightly wrong at mopping HQ.

8. The two-handed mopping technique is generally the most successful. As is the lift-the-mop-up-before-turning-around-to-mop-in-the-other-direction technique. As tempting as it is, walking with the mop in one hand whilst simultaneously waving to your fans in the audience potentially isn't pro-mopping-etiquette.

9. Although you may have potentially valuable backhand clear technique tips to give to the players during a match, resist the temptation. Even if you would quite like Lin Dan's autograph/ T-Shirt/ badminton ability.

10. Caps should be worn at all times when on court...

11. Oh, and, just to state the obvious... don't stand on the shuttlecock.


Also, just to answer a query that has emerged... to the person who accessed my blog through the Google search of 'how much they get paid for moping': we do not mope, we mop.



So, that, people, was my summer job in 11 points. Not too shoddy, eh?!

In all seriousness, though, when I first applied to volunteer, I didn't know whether I would actually even see any of the Games (obviously, in hindsight, I've been extremely lucky with that one!). I applied because (as uncharacteristically cheesy as it may sound) I love the Olympics, I love badminton and I love London. At 11 years old I knew, as I sat and sneakily watched London win the bid in an ICT lesson during my first year of secondary school (sorry, Mr. Howarth), that I wanted to be there in some context. So, as far as I was concerned, why not volunteer?! The same applied to every Games Maker that I met: they wanted to be there.

The public reaction to the volunteers has been fantastic: I barely had a single train journey without someone being interested in where I was helping out and what I was doing. And, not that I'm the slightest bit biased, but I think that we might just have received the biggest round of applause at the Closing Ceremony...

Also, not that I'm expecting to be invited to any glitzy events anytime soon (mainly due to that fact that there are more Games Makers than would fit in a stadium and I am a mere mopper), but BOA chief, Lord Moynihan, has nominated the Olympic volunteers for the Sports Team of the Year award at the BBC Sports Personality of the Year awards. Which currently makes him quite the legend in my books.

This summer has been, to put it mildly, the best experience ever. And, if and when they arrive, I intend to ensure that my grand children never hear the end of it.

I think that Seb 'went to school with my mum' Coe hit the nail on the head in his speech on Sunday: ''When our time came - Britain we did it right''.



A big Games Maker/ Mopper thank you to:

Mum, for letting ginger me loose in London. And for providing me with much amusement by trying to spot which one of the Spice Girls was Cheryl Cole during the Closing Ceremony... (For the record, the one that you eventually identified was actually Victoria Beckham. But you were so close).

Kerstin, Gerhard, Marion, Lynanne and Dad for providing beds for yours truly.

My fellow Wembley Games Makers, particularly to the other FOPers and to Fern, my FOP leader: 'You mop those courts'.

The Wall Street Journal and the Lancashire Evening Post for reading. (Even if I'm not the best at checking my emails/ answering my phone for interview proposals...)

South West Trains, for your free ice creams.

The Met line, for having a train with only 5 stops between Waterloo and Wembley.

To whoever first believed that London was great enough to host these Olympics. I do not know your name, but I really do love you.

And to the readers of the mopping blog!

Home time...

Medals on the trees in Leicester Square

After an amazing past few weeks, I'm now back home again (waaaaaaaaa) and I currently find myself a very committed fan of the rhythmic gymnastics, just to remain in the Olympics at Wembley Arena frame of mind (yes, I am aware that I am a complete and utter saddo). Despite having passed my driving test yesterday and having had biscuits for breakfast and ice cream for dinner today (by this I mean the meal that you eat at midday, just to translate for those from anywhere south of Manchester), I would still rather take another week's worth of Games Maker sandwiches to be back in London.

I slept for the vast majority of Monday to recover from my mopping-induced-tiredness, before dragging myself out of bed some time around mid-afternoon in order to move flats for the third (and, sadly, final) time during the Games. Negotiating two flights of stairs half-asleep with a suitcase big enough to house a small family wasn't exactly the easiest task, and I'm still waiting for the bruises from my attempts to disappear...

When I arrived at the new flat, dad and I screamed at the TV for a while in support for Runshaw College's Sports Academy representative, Holly Bleasdale, before I set up camp on the sofa and combined even more sleep with timed-waking-up to try and get some Olympic tickets. Although I did actually successfully manage to get a ticket for the athletics at the Olympic Stadium, it wasn't the £50 one that I had requested, but rather the £450 one, which, being a poor student and all, I couldn't really afford, let alone justify buying...


As my Olympic-ticket-buying-skills seemed to be failing me, my mad-Google-skills came into good use, and I decided to go to watch the men's triathlon for some more (albeit non-ticketed) Olympic action. I never was one to refuse freebies...

As it turned out, in terms of good value for free things, this was definitely well up there with my top free things ever: I was stood in the front row of the crowd, directly opposite Buckingham Palace (thank you, Pippa, for your brief appearance on the roof, but please pass the message to your sister/ brother in law/ brother in law #2 that they have let me down by their distinct lack of badminton attendance), next to a family whose child's only vocabulary seemed to consist of ''come on Team GB, get in there'' (massive tick next to the 'inspire a generation' box, there Seb). Much to my surprise as well, the route that the athletes were taking went past Buckingham Palace five times, so it wasn't a case of blink-and-you-miss-it. After having heard no national anthem other than China's at the badminton, it was also a nice change to see the British being Great and having a 'God Save the Queen' moment!


After a quick dinner in (a very rainy) Trafalgar Square (yes, I would quite happily live there... if I only had a tent and/or a sturdy umbrella), I headed to Oxford Street for a quick retail therapy fix (featuring the Olympic John Lewis Superstore and a brief spell playing Olympic Trivial Pursuit in Starbucks... by myself. Yes, I am aware that my saddo rating has now reached the point of no return). I was also greatly shocked to learn that the Disney Store now sells iPad covers. Back in the day (yes, I am under 20 and did just use that phrase), their main purpose in my life was for socks.
In the evening, I went back to Leicester Square to see 'Chariots of Fire' at the Gielgud theatre. Luckily, I was slightly less fed up of the theme tune than I had originally anticipated, and the performance itself (complete with the rendition of 'Rule Britannia' in the interval to celebrate our gold medal wins of that day) was fantastic and so cleverly done. And, once I have conquered the minor overplayed-theme-tune-issue-hurdle, I really need to watch the film again. I expect that this moment will probably come in a moment of Wembley-Arena-and-Olympics-homesickness at some point during the next few days.

After the play finished, I was left with a bit of time to kill before I had to meet my dad.  Stuck around Leicester Square and not particularly wanting to either hit a bar by myself or eat anything (Games Maker food has fed me up pretty well for a good few weeks), I was left with M&M world as seemingly my only remaining option... Thankfully, dad was able to meet me sooner than expected (I feel as if there's only so long that you can spend looking at M&M photo frames, M&M snow globes and M&M pyjamas before it stops being socially acceptable), and I met him on the South Bank to go and see the Olympic projections on the Houses of Parliament, which I had wanted to see before leaving London.

The morning that followed was a very early one, and one which found me back home for before midday, and sat having a driving lesson about thirty minutes after arrival. Talk about a thud back down to earth!


Olympic spot of the day: miscellaneous Team USA athletes in Trafalgar Square
Dad's Olympic spot of the day: Stephen Fry on London's South Bank

(This is possibly a case of parent:1, daughter:0, however I have included a picture, so if anyone would care to identify them as more famous that Stephen Fry it would be greatly appreciated...)

A photo finish

This morning was another early one, but I went for the tactical sleep on the train option because sleeping through Olympic finals didn't really seem too acceptable.

The which seating block can we sit in issue continued today but, luckily, the woman on the door this morning mistook me for an athlete when I told her 'my team are up there' and so I made in fine. Although I would potentially suggest that she needs to brush up on her Team GB recognition skills slightly...











This morning I saw:
Men's singles bronze medal match: Chen Long (China) vs. Lee Hyun Il (Korea)
Men's doubles bronze medal match: Koo. KK & Tan. BH (Malaysia) vs. Chung. JS & Lee. YD (Korea)


Going through security this morning (please note: without house keys in my pocket this time, so no alarms were set off), it was beyond weird to get my head around the fact that today was the last day of the badminton competition. I wasn't mopping today because Young Games Makers do finals and, despite the baby face, I am apparently getting on a bit. Even though I wasn't in uniform, though, I kept looking around for the good ol' Games Maker trainers in their plastic bag (FOPers can't wear them other than on court) and the number of times I panicked today because I thought that I'd lost the bag (which was safely in my suitcase in the flat) was pretty ridiculous.




I went back to our lounge over dinner (mainly to eat some of the line judge's food), and managed to get myself a shirt swap sorted as well. When we got our kit, we were all given two T-shirts, and one of the line judges asked if they could swap theirs for my spare once they'd finished their last match. The technical officials shirts are blue (complete with BWF shoulder-y things), so I was very happy to gain a top that clashed slightly less with ginger...

Please ignore my complete lack of regulation trousers/ shoes...

After dinner (I believe that the southerners amongst us call this lunch), I went to the final warm-up area to have a quick photo shoot with all of the Lancashire representatives at the Olympics. We did let Lin Dan and Lee Chong Wei finish their knock-up before we gatecrashed, just in case you were wondering...


I then went up to the seating to watch the men's finals.

This afternoon I saw:
Men's singles final: Lin Dan (China) vs. Lee Chong Wei (Malaysia)
Men's doubles final: Cai. Y & Fu. HF (China) vs. M. Boe & C. Mogensen (Denmark)

The men's singles final was probably the closest match that I've ever seen and, even in final points of the final set, I couldn't tell which way it was going to go. I did want Lin 'wants to be a popstar now' Dan to win, but was also slightly gutted when Lee Chong Wei lost. Lin Dan's celebration was absolutely epic but, what impressed me more, was how respectful he seemed towards Lee Chong Wei afterwards. The crowd were fantastic as well and they were so loud and there seemed to be so many flags, which added to the whole atmosphere. One of the umpires who I spoke to was saying that in Asia the crowds are so loud that when you introduce the players you may as well say that you have Mickey Mouse on your left and Donald Duck on your right, because it's too loud for anyone to hear, and I really think that you got a of a sense of that during today's finals.

Just before the medal ceremony, it was announced over the tannoy that Ben Ainslie had won the sailing. There were a few Union Jacks in the Arena (despite the distinct lack of GB representation in the finals) and the crowd went mental, which will go down as one of my favourite Team-GB-winning reactions of the Olympics so far (along with, obviously, the Jess Ennis/ Greg Rutherford/ Mo Farah Bollywood wins and also everyone in the canteen standing up for the national anthem after we won the first cycling gold).

The men's doubles final followed and China completed their complete and utter clean sweep of the badminton, meaning that, as of yet (we'll have to wait and see how the rhythmic gymnastics goes), no other national anthem has been played in Wembley yet during the Olympics (I'm not counting the 'God Save the Queen' rendition during the dress rehearsals!). It was, however, a nice change to see that there were three different flags raised during the Victory Ceremony!

After the final final, we went back to the lounge to watch the rest of the Andy Murray match/ shout encouragement at the TV (we had been Twitter-ing the live score and reporting to the stand throughout the doubles final, much to the amusement of Peter Gade), before sprinting around the entire Arena to try and get photos of everything because the clean-up operation was already underway. And I am now about to slow your Internet speed down majorly with a couple of these picture highlights...:

Spot the floor mopper in the lounge...

Yey for Team Fern!/ Team FOP!

Considering a career change to a line judge (and probably not looking serious enough for it)...

Pippi Longstocking was always my favourite.

I have some Chinese water bottles. Ebay, anyone?!

Court 1, 20 seconds *stops mopping*

Doctor for the afternoon... Just don't get injured please because I'm far too squeamish.

Yes, I went there.

Despite my own probably-not-legal serve, I also did some service judge-ing.

I did debate taking the mop home, but I'm not sure I'd have been too popular on the Underground carrying it...

London 2012

The warm-up courts

The Olympic rings

Gold medal for ermm... floor mopping?!

It was very strange leaving Wembley and the badminton, but I would go back and do it all again in a heartbeat if I could. I'm still in London for a couple of days, so the blogs will still continue for a while (I know that this has secretly made your day and you can breathe a sigh of relief now). For now, though, I will leave you with an except of a conversation which I got caught up in on the train on the way to Hyde Park/ the world's largest bark park to play some badminton and watch some non-badminton related Olympics yesterday evening.

Very loud Canadian girl: (reading out news headlines) Andy Murray beat Switzerland's Roger Federer... (progresses onto reading texts) that's so funny.

Annoyed English woman opposite: Why is Andy Murray winning funny?

Very loud Canadian girl: It's not.

Annoyed English woman opposite: Is it ironically funny because America didn't win? We've waited so long for him to win. I don't find it funny.

Very loud Canadian girl: I didn't say that him winning was funny.

Very loud Canadian girl #2: Maybe we should speak in French now.

Annoyed English woman opposite: I speak French too.

Very loud Canadian girl: (looks at the extremely cute Chinese toddler next to me in an attempt to change subject) is he yours?

Me: Not that I know of.

P.S. Sorry today's blog took a while to get up, it took me until 1 this afternoon to sleep off my mopping tiredness!