Pie’s 300th Post – I Was At The Paralympics! (Part One)September 19, 2012
I have something to celebrate. In spite of my mad schedule, leading to haphazard postings and an inability to respond to my favourite bloggers as much as I’d like, I have made it to my 300th. I also made it to the Paralympics – double happiness! Here’s how.
The Olympics was fab. I watched lots of sports on my phone through the peerless BBC app, but I wanted more. The Paralympics was to follow two weeks later and I wanted a piece of the action, so I put myself at the mercy of the Alice In Wonderland ticketing system, the cause of much anger and anxiety to the citizens of Blighty when trying for tickets for the first Olympics. Checking my phone every two hours made not a scrap of difference. The result remained a big fat zero. My attempts to get a ticket from this rancid site reminded me of that quote, which goes something along the lines of doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. As the Paralympics hurtled towards its final days, the little candle of hope inside me was still burning, but struggling to stay bright as my frustration increased. But I couldn’t give up: I had to be there!
Then, seemingly from nowhere, my party friend, The Ever Gorgeous Dez had a spare ticket for wheelchair basketball at the o2, temporarily renamed The North Greenwich Arena. I went with her on Friday 7th and saw three games in that day session They were really good. Much better, I humbly suggest, than the usual basketball.
I needed to fill up on food before the final session, but the choice was limited and the prices were high. I bought the cheapest thing available, which cost £4.50. Nine and a half pieces of scampi, a pot of pink mayo and a wedge of lemon – bargain!
I reached home full of gratitude to The Ever Gorgeous Dez, as it was one of the sports I really wanted to see. And yet… the Olympic Park was an itch that needed to be scratched: the final full day of activities was Saturday and I had to be there. It was Friday night and I tried yet again in vain for those tickets. It was feeling pretty desperate. Suddenly, I realised I needed to drop this attitude of “that was good, but what I really want is this.” The flame of hope remained, but I stopped pushing. If I don’t get to the park when Saturday comes, then I’ll be OK with it. Really I will.
I was ready for bed and was going to skip my nightly Facebook visit, but something made me log on. Just as well I did, because I received two messages with offers of tickets! One was going spare from my mate Sil, who got four of them free from her local borough. A friend couldn’t make it and I was the first person she thought of. Do you want it? She asked. Do I want it? I nearly ripped her virtual hand off!
And so it was, dear reader, that I found myself, in disbelief, making my way to Stratford at 8:30am on Saturday to meet up with Sil and her friends Sassy Bird and True Brit, who was suitably draped in the union flag. Both he and Sassy Bird had been to the park before for the first Olympics, but they were still excited. We made our way to the stadium.
Part two coming up…