Queen's Baton Relay Part One

It wasn’t at first obvious that anything was out of the ordinary this Friday morning, 27^th June. The rush hour traffic was heavy, as usual, streaming past Dundee’s City Quay. Busy, probably late, drivers and pedestrians staring fixedly ahead as the seagulls above take part in their usual chorus of screeching without much regard for anything but the leftover chips from last night’s takeaways. The shops and cafes along the streets have just opened, as they do every Friday morning, ready for the day’s trade.

Had one of those drivers, pedestrians, shopkeepers or indeed seagulls taken a cursory glance towards the Quay they may have in fact seen something quite different. Marked out in gleaming blue and white, a man you probably wouldn’t look twice at on an ordinary day finds himself the centre of everyone’s attention – everyone who knows what’s going on that is. And that’s how it will remain for the next three minutes or so. A convoy of vehicles, police and some very official looking people escort the man, quite proudly, as he sets off on a mission he has been specially selected for. It might not seem like that big a deal to someone on the outside of all the hype about to go off, but make no mistake, this is definitely a mission.

Cameras and furry sound poles (that’s us by the way) follow him as he makes his short but vital journey to the Quay bridge.  And in his hand? The illustrious Commonwealth Baton which, sporty or not, has been reminding you of a certain upcoming event every time you switch on the news for the past two weeks.

In fact, the short shaft of metal being passed from hand to hand carries so much meaning for each of its beholders, it’s a wonder it’s not glowing hot red and shooting sparks, especially with the number of cameras and police which have been trained on it since it arrived in Scotland on the 14^th of June.

As the Baton joins its next carrier you can see the excitement and nerves on his face. For him and his family and friends this is the most important three minutes of the Baton’s five and a half week journey around our bonnie land.

His name is Andrew Batchellor and I was about to find out that, like every Baton bearer today, he has an incredible story.

Not quite a year ago, Andrew took it upon himself to do something out of the line of duty for the people of his home city, Dundee. Quite of his own accord, he started promoting and raising awareness for the Dundee City of Culture bid after seeing the council weren’t…well…doing a very good job to be frank. Within 8 months he had 2658 likes on his Dundee: A City of Culture Facebook page. He wasn’t paid, he wasn’t asked; in fact, there was no obvious motivation for Andrew’s actions apart from a total dedication to the people of Dundee and the future of his city.

Now, this is all pretty good stuff, but you’re probably thinking he’s a shrewd businessman eager to have his name noticed in the local area? Or a previous counsellor for Dundee looking to carry on his work? A Dundee charity worker, even? If you’re thinking any of the above, you are wrong. Andrew is a schoolboy. Thirteen years old, studying at school and leading a normal teenage life, all alongside running an inspirational campaign for Dundee’s future.

As I stood, interviewing this excitable, compassionate thirteen year old, listening to the boundless energy in his voice for the work he has been doing and plans to continue, I suddenly felt ever so slightly inadequate. And it was only 8.45 in the morning!

I later flicked through the pictures from Andrew’s run and found a lovely one of his family around him. It reminded me of the normal lives everyone has and yet some of us – or a surprisingly large majority of us, as I was about to find out – do amazing things that touch the lives of so many others.

Queen's Baton Relay Part Two

Queen's Baton Relay Part Two

The magic of the baton. It’s difficult to describe. In reality, it’s  sixty one and a half centimetres of wood and metal, and yet, by that afternoon, as the Games officials took pictures of different people from the crowds holding it, you can see it means a whole lot more. An elderly lady, delight in her eyes at now being properly part of the excitement, passes it on to a young mother carrying her baby in front of her. You can see the curiosity in the child’s eyes. Is it an ice-cream, he seems to question, and his little hand thrusts out to grasp it. That touch, that picture, the smile on his mother’s face, perhaps even a small memory forever nestled in his mind. That is the magic of the baton. It knits us together – people, communities, groups who would never normally interact have the chance to come together because of one common object, leaving us with almost tangible memories and including every one of us in its widely travelled aura.

The Oor Games crew interviewed a lot of people during the day the baton passed around Dundee. And, as apprehensive as most of the interviewees were – something to do with a large fluffy object and huge lens being shoved in their faces apparently – most ended up talking about their role in the baton relay with, at the very least, some amount of enthusiasm. Also, contrary to what they believed, what they were trying to say was perfectly articulate and understandable. One such lady was with Leisure and Culture Dundee. Before I continue, it’s worth mentioning Leisure and Culture are an organisation which provides all kinds of sport, leisure and cultural services to Dundee for us all to enjoy.

Having professed to being of no use in front of a camera with nothing much to say for herself, she didn’t take long to forget the lens and furry mic as she launched into an explanation of her role in the sport area of the organisation and all the work she does for the kids who attend the events she holds.

I for one was impressed – no, inspired – by this lady's passion for getting people active and inspiring a whole new generation to do and be more. I know it sounds cliché – how many times have we heard about someone being inspired by another’s passion – but when you see it in someone, really see it, you can’t help but reflect on your own drives and ambitions. For some, this translates into inspiration. You just want to do something worthwhile.

This fact got me thinking. Mainly about the depth of the Commonwealth Games. Past the events, past the athletes and CEO’s and chairpeople, past the baton even. When you whittle it down, you can only be left with the people.

The Commonwealth is a group of 53 countries and filling these countries are people. The athletes we all see as a result of the Games only make up a tiny fraction of the Commonwealth people and yes, their dedication, energy, fight and skill are exceptionally inspiring for everyone watching on, but the heart of the Games, the reason it is as exciting and inspirational as it is, perhaps the whole reason it exists, is because it showcases our hard working, ambitious, driven people. The wonderful, miraculous, normal people that will sit in the stadium seats  or in front of their television to watch the summer of Games, and who lead the most unselfish, heroic, generous lives and don’t even know it. And when we get to see that these people are amongst us, are just like us, are us, that, I feel, is the inspiration of the Games.

Queen's Baton Relay Part One                                                             Queen's Baton Relay Part Three

Queen's Baton Relay Part Three

For those who are skeptical, even cynical, of the Games and the Baton Relay that precedes them – those who only see cost and extravagance – I’d like to tell you about one baton bearer I saw. Her name is Molly Robertson and, at twenty past two this Friday afternoon, we were running late to film her section of the relay. As we jogged up the road amidst crowds of people, camera aloft, we just managed to capture a glimpse of the end of her run but in those few minutes we saw all we needed to see. Molly is a student at a school in Dundee and she was nominated by her school to carry the baton. As she carries the baton along Johnston Avenue today, the look on her face says it all. Dozens of people clapping and cheering, there for her and only her. Once she'd had her picture taken with the baton, she received a bouquet of flowers. Now, a simple bouquet of flowers seems so insignificant in the scheme of things, but from the elation on this girl's face you could see that boquet was helping make this the most special day of her life. It didn't cost anything for those people to be there, clapping and cheering; for someone to hand her a bunch of flowers, but it is a memory that will stay with Molly forever. A reason to come together, a reason for people to unite, can never be something to be skeptical about.

Anyone who was following the Baton's progress in Dundee on the 27th June will know it finished up in the Square amidst excitement, entertainment and, most importantly, neighbourliness between residents, visitors, organisers and baton bearers alike. It was the culmination of everything that had been building throughout the day, from the inspiration being spread by the bearers to the generosity being shown by the volunteers, talented individuals showing off their learned skills, to the enthusiasm rarely seen on an average day from all the spectators. When it all came together it was awe inspiring - Dundee is really capable of all this? No sign of the doom and gloom of current economic situations, no old feuds, no gripes or grievances, even in the un-summer like chill of the evening.

 By this point, the Oor Games team were well into their sixth cup of coffee, and I for one was running on the caffeine of this alone.

Hyped up from a day of speaking to amazing people, soaking up the baton relay atmosphere, dashing from point to point and downing half a dozen mochas, I was having a great time helping film the crowds and gaining an insight into what Dundee thinks we'll get from these Games.

The lasting image, for me, of the Queen's Baton Relay in Dundee isn't Lord Provost's engaging end speech, nor the baton bearers - as excellent as they were - nor Dennis the Menace or Clyde the Commonwealth mascot. It's of two police officers at the very end of the day. Perhaps they'd just come off duty, perhaps they were still on, but as the Scottish ceilidh band played they seemed in their element reeling and skipping round one another, arms linked and smiles on their faces. The kind of thing you only see for a second or two, but when all those small things come together, you realise they're what make a community. They're what make this celebration, and they're what make these Games 2014.

Queen's Baton Relay Part Two                                                              Queen's Baton Relay In Pictures