It has been ten years to the day since I wrote this entry; ten years since, sitting in my old room at uni, I learned that London had won the right to host the 2012 olympics. I remember being elated, but of course, I could never have guessed back then that I would eventually be living in London at the time of the games, or that I’d have a partner who would play at the closing ceremony. It is truly astounding how things turned out. And, needless to say, I still look back on that event with great fondness, especially the ceremonies – hell, you know how obsessed I am with happy and glorious.

I can’t help thinking how different it could have been. If Jaques Rogge had exclaimed ‘paris’ instead of ‘london’, none of that would have happened. Of course, I’d probably still be living in London with Lyn, but Stratford would still be an unregenerated urban wasteland; we’d not have all those memories of Olympic glory; the pararchestra would never come about; and Happy and Glorious, quite possibly the greatest television moment ever, would never have been created. No doubt we’d be debating whether to bid again, and I’d be protesting vociferously on here that we could not afford it amid all the cuts.

No doubt a lot will be said today about ‘Legacy’, or the lack of it: already the beeb is reporting that tessa Jowell has branded the legacy a failure because there are still too few people involved sport. But I think today should be about reflecting on how different it might have all been, perhaps going over a few happy memories; and sparing a thought for paris, who came so close and now have the bidding process to go through all over again.