The Daily Telegraph

Dear Blog,

I am feeling very important today. I feel I have finally achieved something in life’s long journey. I have made the headlines, reached the summit, finally been recognised for the sage to which I inspire.

I have been asked by the Daily Telegraph to submit a memoir .A memory of the Olympic Games. Me! Can you believe it? Little old me? Me, in the Daily Telegraph with that nice Mr Cameroon and his mates. If you didn’t know Blog, the ‘Daily Telegraph’ is the Conservative Party’s newsletter which they send to members every single day of the week. So who’s bothered? I am up there with the hobble knobbies. Well, the editor hasn’t said definitely that I will be headlined in their special supplement, but I think I can safely assume that I will appear in print alongside the likes of your Sebastion Coes, your Thompsons etc. otherwise, why would he send a stamped addressed envelope (1^st Class) for me to reply. Such generosity. It is nice to see that the age of civility is not dead. .... And now the big question is ... how many copies can I afford to buy? I have a couple of weeks to save up my pension, but I was wondering, as a mate, could you lend me a couple of bob?? If I corner the market, buy up all the copies, wait a few months, (and here’s the beauty of the idea...) then sell them on e-bay, I can make a killing. (I think if I sign them, it may just help push up the price a smidgeon, don’t you think??) So how are you fixed??  You have got to speculate to accumulate, you know. Never mind my two charities, Tiny Tims Children’s Centre and Newlife, and the disabled children they help, think of me ....

Oh yes, what I said was:-

Wednesday September 6^th. Sunny and warm. Road surface. 4(?) mile. Approx. 7am.

Dave Bedford and I were rooming together. We met a G.B. team manager on our return to the Olympic Village at the conclusion of our early morning run around Olympiaberg, the artificial hill created from the rubble generated by the reconstruction of post war Munich. The official advised us to avoid running down Connellystrasse back to our flat, as there appeared to have been a bit of trouble.

We thought he was hung over from the night before.

We didn’t return down Connellystrasse.

The world had just changed forever.

Clever don’t you think?? Sort of hits a chord without being too descriptive. A fine piece of literature, even if I have to say so myself. A fine piece of literature.  

Colin