Yes, this is another piece of writing about the Olympics, writes Alana Dixon in Uptown Girl.
The only difference between those articles and this column, dear readers, is this: I have basically no expert knowledge of anything sports-related. So there you go - different already.
The Games have made me exhausted, and they've been on for only a week.
(Even a teensy bit less, perhaps, as I write this. Wee-oh wee-oh, wee-oh wee-oh, the mystery of newspapers ... those were the strains of the Twilight Zone theme, by the way.)
London, you and your massive time difference really know how to mess with a girl, don't you? I feel like a zombie and I don't have enough under-eye cream to fix myself up.
Generally, you would be hard-pressed to convince me to exchange my nice, cosy, warm bed for sitting up, bleary-eyed, to watch some midnight-and-beyond sporting fixture.
That all changes when the Olympics roll around - I suddenly become interested whenever I see a glimpse of a black shirt. I just about cheered on Zara Phillips during the dressage - I got a glimpse of a dark-clad figure atop a horse and got a bit overenthused.
My newfound interest in women's hockey may also have something to do with the fact that the Kiwi girls won against the Australian team first up.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again - nothing tastes sweeter than beating an Aussie. Nothing.
As a Hargest alum, I've also found myself quite proudly pointing out to everybody within earshot the rather bountiful number of London 2012 Olympians who have trod the hallowed halls of E block.
If I still had my blazer, I would quite possibly wear it over my bright-pink, love-heart-adorned pyjamas every time I poured myself out of bed to watch some more sport.
(Arguably, it is doubtful any of Hargest's Olympic folk were in Hamilton house - if my memory serves me correctly, we didn't seem particularly talented on athletics day. Or during any other sporting event. Hopefully the tide has turned. I'm rooting for you, Hamilton.)
I guess that is what the Olympics are all about - besides the impressive displays of athletic prowess, obviously.
They turn us all into patriotic, flag-waving nutbars who forget about the asset sales debate and get up at 2am to watch some rowing and whatnot.
Even when we have work the next morning, or have to get up early to write our column for the week ...
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