Part 5: One Big Family

(Our sanctuary!) 

You'll be happy to hear the room key card crisis was averted thanks to a very understanding receptionist. I was informed of this halfway back to the hostel and, by this point, Glasgow had stepped up the intensity on the weather front, obviously deciding it would be misleading to allow all the Games visitors to believe this was a warm, sunny place to visit in the summer. Now, I'm from around Dundee and I thought we got rain pretty bad, but that notion was quickly dispelled as a squelched back up the street, umbrella in front of me acting as a shield against the sheets - no really, sheets - of water being hurled from the sky. Arriving at the Media Hub, I made a beeline for the toilets to try and sort myself out - it was still morning for God's sake, I couldn't be this much of a mess this early! With some creative use of a roll of toilet paper and a very temperamental Dyson hand-drier (he should have stuck to vacuum cleaners), I was less sodden, more damp and only looked like I'd been pulled through a hedge backwards, not steam-rollered multiple times.
But it was all good, I had photos from a whole host of volunteers, the fantastic array of events being held on Glasgow Green, and had seen the finish of the Women's Road Race Finals, all before eleven o'clock.
The rest of the team were making themselves at home in one of the lounges in the Media Hub amidst comfy sofas, free coffee and biscuits and a large screen broadcasting all the Games' latest. I can't actually praise Destination Media Hub enough - they were amazing and I only wish we could have spent more time there. A collaboration of Visit Scotland, Visit Britain and People Make Glasgow, they provided the place to be for all press and media during the Glasgow 2014 Games. I mean, what could possibly get a journalist more excited than the prospect of free coffee and wifi? Plus, the people running it were so friendly they genuinely made it feel like a home from home.
The rest of the day was filled with dashing out between episodes of torrential rain to film and interview spectators and athletes on the streets, and regularly tuning into the Men's Road Race coverage to take pity on the drenched cyclists. The most uplifting thing had to be speaking to the people lining the streets, watching the race. You would have been hard pushed to find a miserable face, despite the rain, and not one person had a bad word to say about Glasgow nor the Games. 'Amazing', 'awesome' and 'best ever' featured regularly on our camera and, by the time we got back to the Media Hub, it wasn't difficult to imagine we had enough footage to really make the best of our funding.
Come the end of the day, and after the last road race had finished, the sky had finally cleared up and my shoes had dried out. We'd had word Robert's cousin, a member of a Scottish band, would be playing at a nearby bar and so we dropped into the quaint little pub on the way home. When I say 'little', what I actually mean is it started off looking little until we'd gone up and down several sets of gnarled wooden staircases, and completely lost our bearings in a place I can only compare to something out of 'The Hobbit'. It was amazing. If only we had a Waxy O'Conner's in Dundee, my life would be complete.
Once we'd settled ourselves into one of the many nooks and crannies of the pub, we quickly found ourselves striking up a conversation with a man and his girlfriend sitting at a nearby 'Game of Thrones' style bench and table. Of all the people to stumble upon, it turned out we were talking to Clinton Purnell, one of Wales' best gymnasts who had narrowly missed out on a medal only days previously. It seemed a fitting way to end our trip, speaking to an athlete who could tell us not only that Glasgow as a venue was superior to anything he'd experienced before but, and I quote, 'it felt like one big family'.
Now that should be on a brochure somewhere...

Part 4: Missing Key Cards And Other Surprises

Sunday morning came without any more problems or, miraculously, rain. Having left the hostel room and the rest of the Oor Games crew sleeping, I grabbed a quick breakfast before heading over to the Media Hub we would be spending the day at. Naturally, being around half seven in the morning, it was closed so I decided to hunt down some of those volunteers I had been so impressed by yesterday.

We had only received tickets for Saturday evening's events so, of course, I had neglected to check up on Sunday's events to realise there was in fact a road race running right up the street I was currently on. Perhaps because it was early, my brain didn't even click as I spoke to the dozens of volunteers and police workers standing next to a fenced off track which carried on further than I could see. I mean, what did I think they were all doing, just randomly convening on the street for the sheer fun of it? It wasn't until two dozen brightly coloured athletes whizzed past on impossibly fast bicycles I realised I had stumbled upon the Commonwealth  Games finals of the Women's Road Race. And I can tell you, there's no way you can realise just how fast those women go when you're watching it on T.V, nor the vast number of vehicles that travel in front and behind them - everything from cars carrying multiple spare bikes (and their coaches and such like) to ambulances and official Games vehicles. It's quite a to-do it would seem.

The volunteers I spoke to were more than accommodating since the street was still relatively quiet at this point, and they could tell me all about the time they'd had in Glasgow - they really did a great job of convincing me a night out here is the best experience in the world! - while I snapped away with my camera. A lot of these volunteers weren't actually from Glasgow, or even Scotland, but had come from all over Britain to be here. Although, by the end of two very, very long road races, I'm not sure how many would have been questioning that decision!

Sitting quite comfortably in the Media Hub some time later, just a short distance from the action of the Women's Road Race, I could watch it on the large screen provided in one of the lounges. It's a strange experience watching BBC coverage of something just outside your window. Anyway, it turns out the cyclists do so many laps I had time to blog, drink numerous cups of free coffee and make my way over to Glasgow Green for the finishing stretch with time to spare. And I only had to ask for the same directions three times. 

Having not realised there would be security checks on the way into the Green I had taken with me all my stuff and so it took a while for the poor security men to rake through my newspapers, receipts, half eaten protein bars, notepads, random bits of makeup and whatever else was lurking at the bottom of my rather large bag. By the time I finally got in, it was raining again. Amazingly, I had actually thought ahead this time and brought an umbrella, much to my smug satisfaction. Unfortunately however, I had only brought a couple of pairs of flimsy flats for the whole weekend and since most of the Green is grass (funnily enough) I was squelching around in two mobile puddles before long. Still, at least the top half of me was dry. Ish.

The end of the Women's Road Race Finals was pretty thrilling even from two rows back and only managing to catch a glimpse of coloured Lycra and bicycle wheels. I have to say, the spectators around me were a hardy bunch! Later in the day I would watch the end of the Men's Road Race on the BBC live broadcast and I'm sure I recognised the same faces in the crowd, a whole lot wetter than the last time I'd seen them! 

However, back at the Women's race I'd just had a phone call from Julie and it was quickly becoming apparent I had lost the hostel's room key card. Three days later I would find it at the bottom of my

aforementioned bag, however at this point it was nowhere to be seen, and so I made my way back to base to try and sort the newest situation out.

Part 5: One Big Family

Part 1: A Less Than Fluent Start

 (*picture taken before the following proceedings...)

So at last we have arrived at the train station, ready for our Glasgow 2014 spectator debut at the track and field finals after weeks and weeks of waiting. Needless to say, The Oor Games team is more than a little excited - I mean, we're going to see Bolt, for crying out loud! And, amazingly, all is well at the moment and it remains this way as we board the train to Glasgow Queen Street along with a lot of other Games bound travellers and I begin tweeting quite happily from my seat while everyone else enjoys the start of the journey.
Perhaps the acrid smell of an engine burning or the train being delayed by random signal problems in the middle of nowhere should have both been omens for the first of a series of little 'hurdles' the day was about to throw at us.
Having what I'm sure a few would describe as an OCD about being organised, I was typically noting down the names and start times of all our Scottish competitors due to compete in the evening's events when Julie, holder of the sacred Commonwealth tickets, came back from the train's loo. I didn't notice her sit down and peer worriedly into her bag, pulling out her phone and a stack of now strangely coloured tickets. Two teenage boys were sitting nearby, also on their way to the Games, and so Julie, with a hint of trepidation in her voice, asked to see their tickets while holding onto our bunch of six. At this point, my attention was caught and my brain was quickly catching up with what was going on.
A dismayed look on her face, Julie compared the boys' pure white tickets to our own, now scorched, bunch. Yes, that's right I did say scorched. It turns out it's not advisable to have your handbag, or indeed any item or part of your body near the 9.52 Dundee to Glasgow hand drier if you value it at all.
So, what do you do when your much sought after Commonwealth Games tickets are suddenly set on fire by a train hand drier? Well, several phone calls later (mainly because trains tend to go through quite a few tunnels, and tunnels don't actually have very good signal, funnily enough) plus some much needed reassurance from concerned passengers, we were half confident we might be able to get the tickets reissued once we reached Glasgow. Only half confident mind you because we still had to a. find the ticket office, b. brave the queues, and c. find someone called Jane who seemed to be the only official person who could help us.

Part 2: Smiling Despite The Rain

Oor Games in Glasgow

 

 

Part 3: Haud Yer Wheesht And Find Me A Squeegee

We're in, we've located our seats, Styrofoam cups in hand - we're ready!
Can I just say at this point, a plastic stadium chair would not have been my first choice of what to sit on having just been thoroughly rained on for two hours. The water slowly seeping out of your clothes - or bones in this case - tends to pool somewhere beneath your thighs, which is not conducive to successfully pretending you're perfectly comfortable and not really in danger of catching pneumonia. Perhaps this is the real reason stadium chairs flick shut every time you stand up. The regular medal ceremonies throughout the night meant when standing for the national anthem you could dispose of your gathering rain water every half hour or so, much like the workers down on the track bailing out the trays of water collected from their giant squeegees as they pushed them up and down the lanes. Is it just me or are these not the most brilliant inventions yet? The giant, roll-able, pushable squeegee, star of Glasgow 2014: for those who haven't seen them, they look for all the world like the love child of a lawnmower, a painting roller and a supermarket trolley, and they work astoundingly well! Sort of like a liquid clearing equivalent of a Dyson. Unfortunately, my attempts to find them on eBay have been unsuccessful so far.
Anyway, we had arrived early enough to get a real feel for the building atmosphere and, as the huge digital clock creapt closer to seven o'clock the crowds were building, the commentators were putting their all into hyping everyone up, and the staff on the track and field were working ten to the dozen in an attempt to reverse the weather. The majority of people watching the athletics this summer will have done so from home on their TV, computer or phone and probably guessed the atmosphere doesn't really translate across the camera terribly well. Before this weekend I had figured the noise in the Stadium would likely be ten fold what it sounds like on TV, the athletes would suddenly seem real in person, and there would be no skipping to the good bits - you would be with the athletes through every little defeat and accomplishment, you would be part of it. All this was, of course, true but there was so much more. Amongst the thousands of spectators you notice how many nations have turned out to support their teams, and suddenly you understand the idea of these Games knitting communities and cultures together. You also hear these wonderful snippets of conversations around you - everything from checking the washing machine wasn't left on to hoping a family member does well in the 5000m, which for some reason makes you realise these Games aren't some distant, fictional land. They're here, now and include you and me. And oh wow, the smell of the Stadium! It's this glorious mix of fresh air from the arena in front and pies and chips from the food stands behind which you can never truly appreciate from your living room.
You also don't have the challenge of trying to ensure you have at least one eye on the four events all going on at the same time...I took Biology and I can tell you it's not actually possible. The crowd suddenly start clapping in a rhythm and your eyes dash around looking for which athlete is about to set off on their medal bid. By the time you've located him on the triple jump track the crowd are now cheering madly and he's only half way to the sand pit so obviously you've missed something crucial elsewhere - how far did that javelin get? Or is the pole vault bar still up? And what a conundrum when silence is required for the start of the Women's 4x 400m Relay but Scotland's pole vault hopeful is about to make her last jump. There's no way you're going to hush 10,000 excited Scots until she's finished, however many 'haud yer wheesht's' signs are put up on the big screens.
By the end of the night, having watched the unmistakable shape of Bolt finishing the 100m Relay in his usual style on the other side of the arena, all our hands were raw from clapping ourselves silly, legs humid and sticky from being wrapped in that huge plastic poncho all night, and voices slightly hoarse from belting out a fantastic rendition of '500 Miles' - it's a cracking song but something about it being sung by 20,000 excited spectators at once gives it the edge.
Making our way out the Stadium, we headed down to the shuttle bus, guided all the while by the volunteers still working away with broad smiles and a good bit of banter for everyone making their way home. To be honest, as the volunteer standing by us in the queue for the bus played 'Daydream Believers' through his megaphone and laughed along with the crowds, I was questioning if he was a. human b. on something or c. sane.

Part 4: Missing Key Cards And Other Surprises

Part 2: Smiling Despite The Rain

Much to our surprise, the situation was resolved fairly quickly when we got into Glasgow and I have to say that was largely down to the fantastic organisation of the staff and volunteers working their socks off to make the games and Glasgow run without a hitch. We'd heard mixed opinions of the organisation and communication going on during the Games, but from what we experienced they were on the ball dawn till dusk which is certainly more than I would have been in the pouring Glasgow rain, dressed in an oversized poncho, waving a large foam finger in the direction of the Stadium all day. Not only were they on the ball but they were cheery as well, something I definitely wouldn't have managed!
Regardless of a few more hurdles in our day, we made it to our hostel, checking in successfully before stopping to gather our rather hectic thoughts. Our plans to get to Kelvingrove with the filming equipment were swiftly abandoned as we were running out of time so we set off for the shuttle bus with, I have to admit, not much of a clue where we were going. At this point in time it was not raining; in fact it was quite pleasant. Unfortunately it was not to stay this way and, had I paid any attention to the numerous weather forecasts - like my fellow, well prepared team - I would have taken at least an umbrella. Uncharacteristically I didn't, and anyone who was out in Glasgow yesterday evening will know what a bad decision that was.
Two hours and only a few wrong turns later, and despite resembling a drowned rat now wrapped in what can only be described as an overpriced bin liner (surprisingly warm, though), we neared Hampden Park and even I could sense the excitement building. Perhaps it was the idea of seeing all these amazing sights up close rather than on the T.V, or maybe it was the vast number of people gathering for one purpose, but there was definitely something about this wet, cold evening that made you want to jump around with excitement and say hello to everyone around you as you queued to enter the Park. And when I say vast number of people, I mean vast. The queue stretched away further than the eye could see in two different directions. Naturally we thought we were in for a long wait so we were more than a little surprised, and pleased, to find ourselves being whisked through the security tents at a nippy pace and well on our way to entering the stadium itself. Again, I can only applaud the volunteers and staff for the amazing job they did of getting everyone into the park with no fuss or hanging around.
So, with a brief thought for the poor police and police horses left out in the torrential rain, keeping an eye on the queues with a surprisingly cheery disposition, we made our way into the dry, if still a little cold, entrance to Hampden Stadium.

Part 3: Haud Yer Wheesht And Find Me A Squeegee

Ghana Shooting Team

An insight into life behind the scenes in Dundee's Commonwealth village... Australia have a lot to live up to in four years time apparently!

With thanks to the Ghana Shooting Team and Oor Games Film Crew.

Copyright 2014 Oor Games