So here was my credential to the London Olympics. This was actually the year where my photograph was sent back to me twice because it too closely approximated a smile. I gave the photographer what I felt was a glare. The look came out, um, well you see it.
Loved the London Olympics just like I loved all eight that I’ve covered. But probably my favorite most emotional moment (like usual) had nothing to do with sports. From my column:
I began walking through London, and checking out all the people and the stores and the restaurants, trying to take in all the atmosphere. I was exhausted, of course, and that weird spot where you’re hungry but don’t feel like eating, and I was homesick for my wife and my two girls back home, but I was also looking for something. Emotions at the Olympics are always there, just at the surface, you see hair-trigger tempers go off, you see fits of laughter pop up when you least expect it.
Then, it started to pour. I mean it really opened up … the rain here can come at any time and with any level of force. I actually enjoyed it. I put on my hood, and I kept walking, and I noticed a family in front of me. It was a mother and two children, boy and a girl I think though it was hard to tell through the rain, roughly the same age, and they were all under the same umbrella. And then, it happened. The two kids started singing in thick English accents:
The old man is snoring
He went to bed
And bumped his head
And he couldn’t get up ‘til morning.”
And, without even knowing it, I realized that I was crying.