Olympic ironing and lawn-mowing are not as far-fetched as you might think

Celine Dion delivered a gold medal performance during the opening ceremony of the Paris Olympics (Screengrab by IOC via Getty Images) | Screengrab by IOC via Getty Imag

I watched the start of the Paris Olympics in France where the national pride was obvious. Tricolore flags fluttered on every lamp-post and televisions were turned to full volume as the opening ceremony got underway. And on and on it went.

All around us, interest dipped as the rain fell and the seemingly endless procession of boats paraded participants down the River Seine with soaking athletes waving into the distance. Then things got even more weird. The French media claimed the opening ceremony cost $130m, about four times what was spent on London 2012’s critically acclaimed offering. 

Unless everyone present got to take home an expensive bottle of Chateau Lafitte, it was hard to see where the money was spent. The locals around us certainly didn’t seem impressed by the acrobats, drag queens and heavy metal acts performing and, for a while, it looked like another French Revolution might be on the cards. Then came Celine Dion.

The French Canadian singer appeared on the Eiffel Tower and belted out the Edith Piaf song ‘L’Hymne A L’Amour” and simply saved the day. Around me grown men were crying and when she finished everyone broke into spontaneous applause. 

If she wasn’t the nation’s sweetheart before, she was in that moment. Even more so afterwards when it was revealed she had not been paid a penny for the performance but had done it out of a sense of national pride.

But could that last through the games? The Olympics is always a curious spectacle. I watched some of the swimming with friend who literally would not cross the road to watch the 100 metres butterfly at any other time but becomes obsessed with the action when medals are being handed out.

Similarly, television will show primetime coverage of Olympic handball and fencing but then tuck these sports away in a cupboard with the broken shuttlecocks and liniment rub for the next four years like they don’t exist.

Do we watch because we have a deep, genuine interest that is simply not catered for at other times or is it just a national delight in beating other countries, especially when they are bigger than us?

For me, it is just about envy. Having watched the triathletes swimming 1.5km in the waters of the Seine I had a quick dip in the Forth at Gullane this week and struggled to do 50 metres. And I didn’t have to do a 40km bike ride and 10km run afterwards. Then there was GB’s Tom Pidcock who got a puncture in the mountain biking but still clawed his way back to win Gold. These athletes are super-human and perform at a level beyond our wildest imaginings. 

So maybe we need a worldwide competition accessible to more of us than the Olympic pursuits of dressage, canoe sprint and air-rifle team? I suspect there would be an even greater audience for an everyday OIympics where we could all sit down to watch nations compete over emptying the dishwasher, cutting the grass, ironing a dozen shirts and the toughest test of them all, trying to find a parking space in the centre of Edinburgh during the month of August.

And before you point out that isn’t a sport, wait until you see the breakdancing  competition later this week.