"Best opening
ceremony of all time, I don't see how London 2012 can top that! Congratulations
to the Chinese people!"
—WOLFGANG, from Switzerland, in an e-mail in the China Daily, Aug. 13
THE FURNITURE is
low-slung chic and the lighting is whisper-soft at London House, a members-only
club in Beijing's bustling Xicheng district that serves as a
home-away-from-home for British officials, corporate partners and others in the
orbit of the Games. Waitresses circle in the converted Shi Cha Hai Club, which
fronts a lake a mile from the Forbidden City, offering small bowls of sublime
if nontraditional versions of fish-and-chips and steak-and-kidney pie. (The
English accents, however, are authentic.) When China opened the Olympics by
presenting a cultural banquet that climaxed with former gymnast Li Ning
circling the top of the Bird's Nest stadium to light the cauldron—Peter Pan
meets Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon—the well-heeled Brits watching on
projection screens in London House that night were awed. Everyone realized that
the Olympic bar had been raised.
"I don't
think one should be talking about topping [Beijing]," said Ashish Mishra,
senior manager of emerging markets with the London Development Agency and a
London House regular. "It's different stories. If you think of the Bond
movies, each and every Bond movie got more and more spectacular. At every point
you would have a new level of extravaganza, the latest level of technology. The
bigger the scene the better. But what was the one that basically knocked
everybody off his spots? Casino Royale. Why? Because it went back to
basics."
London 2012:
stirred, not shaken.
AS TORRENTS of
rain fell on China's capital last Thursday afternoon—the only outdoor
competition that could have been contested was ark sailing—Sebastian Coe, an
architect of London's successful Olympic bid, sat in a hotel lobby with a group
of journalists. The former middle-distance star now is Lord Coe and the
chairman of the London Organising Committee of the Olympic Games (LOCOG), but
in a polo shirt and cream-colored slacks, the 51-year-old remains disarmingly
boyish. When asked what London (where it is rumored to rain on occasion) plans
to do to control the weather—China shot 1,110 rockets containing silver iodide
to fend off precipitation at the opening—he said, "We're currently
constructing a roof that goes over the whole country."
The joke is more
philosophical than meteorological. Not even China would have entertained the
idea, although it is now hosting the Apocolympics, the end of the world of
unfettered Olympic spending as we know it. Beijing says it spent more than $40
billion on Olympic-related infrastructure; there's no independent accounting.
(In a description of the Bird's Nest available on the Games' internal computer
system, the line for the cost of the structure has been left blank, a polite
way of saying, "Mind your own damn business.") Setting forth in the
direction of "sustainability," an IOC buzzword since early in the
decade, LOCOG has a current budget of $17.3 billion.
"The days of
leaving white elephants sitting in the middle of hard-pressed communities is
over," Coe said. "The Olympic movement realizes that to remain
relevant, the IOC has to [offer] a Games that goes on providing benefits long
after the show has left town."
When the show
returns to England for the first time in 64 years, London's Olympic Stadium in
the hardscrabble East End will hold 80,000 people—Coe is hoping its turf will
be trod by Great Britain's first Olympic soccer team since 1960—but will shed
55,000 temporary seats after the Games to serve a second-tier soccer team or a
rugby club. There will be a new velodrome, a 17,500-seat aquatics center and a
multisport complex that will be the site of team handball, but earth-moving
will be modest by Beijing standards.
There will be
another significant difference between London and Beijing that Wolfgang from
Switzerland might grasp: the newspapers. Wolfgang's e-mail graced an inside
page in China Daily, the English-language parish bulletin of the Central
Committee of the Communist Party of China, which controls the media. Four years
from now unstinting praise of London's opening ceremony might earn him tabloid
headlines along the lines of WOLF EATS UP OUR GAMES!
Early last week
the lively British press presented an actual soap opera—the head of the
Australian Olympic Committee had joked, "Not bad for a country that has no
swimming pools and very little soap," after Great Britain's Rebecca
Adlington and Joanne Jackson finished one-three in the 400-meter freestyle—but
the quintessential Fleet Street tale involved 14-year-old diving prodigy Tom
Daley and his 26-year-old partner in the synchronized event, Blake Aldridge.
They had a spat during the competition, Daley snapping because Aldridge spoke
on the phone to his mother at poolside. "It was just Thomas being
overnervous," Aldridge said of the row.