Forget London, the Games Will Be What We Make Them

Summary

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I WAS never very sporty. In fact, my only moment of glory was winning the wheelbarrow race during a school sports day when I was seven.

And, to be fair, most of the credit for that narrow victory has to go to the hands and arms of my best friend Glyn Shelley.

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Forget London, the Games Will Be What We Make Them

At secondary school I was always last pick for football - either stuck in goal where there was no running about to be done or lurking about in my favourite position of striker (AKA goalpoacher).

In my head I...

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