Cloud Atlas: A Sort-Of Review

It's one of my favourite books, Cloud Atlas. Not as good as Ghostwritten, David Mitchell's other genre- and era-spanning novel, but still pretty special. And it's been made into a film, unbelievably. I say unbelievably because of the sheer enormity of the task of cramming six different storylines into one film, while maintaining coherency, pace, drama, and thematic connections. There's enough content in each individual storyline to make into a standalone film. It's a miracle that the Wachowskis and Tykwer pulled it off, frankly, and Cloud Atlas must go down as one of the most dizzyingly ambitious films ever made.

There are two big decisions that shape Cloud Atlas. The first is the repeated use of actors across the six plotlines: Tom Hanks, Halle Berry, Jim Broadbent, Doona Bae, James D'Arcy, Ben Whishaw, Hugh Grant, Hugo Weaving and so on all crop up time and time again. One of the effects of this is that it's very silly. Part of the fun is trying to spot when each actor re-appears in a new role. It takes you out of the action for a moment - a cardinal sin in the world of Hollywood narrative form, which depends on invisibility - but only for a moment. Tom Hanks' Irish greaser-cum-Miami-druglord-author is utterly ridiculous, Doona Bae plays a white American at one point and all of them (except Bae, obviously) undergo the prosthetic transition to Asianness, which is very weird, too. There have been calls of 'racism!' but that's a load of nonsense. Odd as it may be, as an approach to casting, I found it to be genius. The Wachowski's rationale behind reusing actors is to help tie themes of a united and continuous humanity together; one suspects it was also a budgetary concern. That's not why I like it so much. I like it precisely for its ridiculousness, I like that the Wachowskis and Tykwer took this enormous gamble knowing that many people would find it bizarre and off-putting, despite the $100m that they ploughed into it. A quick browse through this Wikipedia page indicates that while actors playing multiple roles is not uncommon, it is usually done for comedic effect, as in Kind Hearts and Coronets, or characters that are related and share a physical resemblance. In having most of its cast appear time and time again, even if it sometimes looks a bit shoehorned in, Cloud Atlas surely stands alone. It is this throwing caution to the wind and going all-out that I find admirable. Which brings me to the second big decision.

Instead of copying Mitchell's Russian doll plotline (it goes: Ewing (part 1), Frobisher (1), Rey (1), Cavendish (1), Sonmi (1), Zachry (1 and 2), Sonmi (2), Cavendish (2), Rey (2), Frobisher (2), Ewing (2)) they opted to cut between all six at regular intervals until they all collide in one flippin' stupendous climax. Thus, it becomes this spinning-plates balancing act, maintaining focus on one storyline while keeping the other five spinning. For three hours. It is completely barmy, and stunningly ambitious, and they nail it. Perhaps not the cleanest hammer-stroke; maybe the first one didn't catch it fully, but they got it in. And because they had to cram everything in, as with the actor situation, they just go for broke, making use of everything at their disposal to tie the segments together: match-cuts, cliffhangers, sound-bridges, thematic links, cliffhangers, plot parallels, the magnificent score, cliffhangers...It's like the end of Chicken Run (bear with me...) where the chickens' barmy flying machine somehow manages to fly despite nearly falling apart at the seams at every opportunity. It has just enough glue and good-will to succeed. That's what Cloud Atlas is like: a barmy contraption that should by all rights fail, but the power of the movies gives is just enough gung-ho spirit to get it over the barbed-wire fence. Andy and Lana Wachowski and Tom Tykwer's bravery is commendable.

Karma: A Story For The Internet Age

He was seconds from passing out from the pain, but Mike still had the presence of mind to pull out his phone and take a picture of his mangled right hand with his left, and upload it to Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Reddit, alongside an appropriately pithy/depreciating comment.

“That’ll get me so much karma” he said, before slipping into shock-induced unconsciousness.

He was right, too: ‘Safety First, Kids [OC]’ was on the Front Page within hours. 3k karma, 100k views. Lucky git.

Drugs and Sports Science: Where is the line?

Human sportspeople are, broadly speaking, fitter, faster and stronger than they've ever been. Seven of the top eight male 100m runners are currently active on the international athletics circuit. The days of footballers having to do 10 miles runs to improve their fitness are long gone: in their place are tailored drills that replicate the type of fitness required of a footballers; modern rugby players dwarf their counterparts from the 1970s; Novak Djokovic, Rafael Nadal and Andy Murray are amongst the fittest tennis and strongest players ever; British cycling is the pre-eminent force in both track and road cycling.

These changes are all down to science. I think we can assume that modern day sportsmen and women are not more talented or innately physically superior to those of thirty years ago. Rather, the people behind them - coaches, analysts, nutritionists, physiotherapists - have upped their game. British cyclists are sweeping all before them at the moment, and much of this is due to Dave Brailsford and his much publicised marginal-gains approach to sport. Every facet that shapes an athletics performance is analysed then polished, all that is left for the athlete is to put in the hard work and success seems to come easy. The British approach, it seems, is still some way ahead of the chasing bunch. It is possible that British cycling has a greater pool of talent to choose the best from, but it is likely that the main reason for success is this laboratory approach.

The modern scientific approach has undeniably improved human performance beyond the capabilities of the lone, unaided sportsman. It's methodical, scientific, analytic. Why then, are drugs illegal? The makers of performance enhancing drugs have analysed ways humans can improve athletic capabilities, such as oxygen take-up, recovery methods and improved concentration, and devised a way to target these areas with science. Training programs use science to analyse how the body responds to certain stimuli in an effort to improve the same oxygen take-up, recovery methods and improved concentration that the drugs target.

Is there a difference (apart from effectiveness) between EPO, which supplies the body with more red blood cells, thus boosting its oxygen take-up, and modern compression clothing which (the makers claim) increases blood-flow and aids recovery by artificially expanding blood vessels? One is used by amateurs all over the country and the other is the most reviled aspect of professional sports and carries a prison sentence, and yet what is the difference? Both artificially boost the body's performance beyond what it could do un-aided. I would argue they're two branches of the same tree.

I suspect a large part of the resistance to drugs in sport is the perception that they're seen as improvement without effort: you pop some pills or inject some blood and you're faster and stronger already. This isn't the case because they mostly just allow an athlete to train harder; the improvements in sports science listed above are also intended to allow an athlete to train harder, so morally there is little difference.

I would draw the line at drugs that can endanger the lives of an athlete: EPO thickens the blood and puts an athlete at risk of cardiac arrest: users in the Tour de France have reported having to get up at 2am to do half an hour on the exercise bike in order to keep the heart pumping thick blood around the body in order to stave off a heart-attack. I make no claim to know the dangers of the myriad performance-enhancing drugs, but I'm sure there are quite a number that have a negligible negative impact on a sportsperson's physical well-being.

Should then, governing bodies open up certain performance-enhancing drugs to be used in sport? The line seems arbitrary and blurry. Sport and science are now entwined inextricably; even though when we see a sportsperson perform all we see is the person, they are supported by complex and advanced scientific methods. Certain drugs should be one of those scientific supports.

I'm Ready To Graduate

I’m Ready To Graduate

I’m ready to graduate, three years is enough,

I know what comes next won’t be easy but

I’ve grown up – older, wiser, smarter: I’m tough.

I’m ready to graduate with the world at my feet,

The choices are endless, doors open wide -

A 2:1 in Film & English: one of the élite.

I’m ready to graduate, who needs to have fun?

Getting hammered is childish and stupid and dumb.

…What’s that you’re holding? Is it rum?

I’m ready to graduate, back to the nest

For a while - a year, maybe two, maybe three -

Not long at all, Mum, just a temporary guest.

I’m ready to graduate, my friends aren’t too far,

We can see each other at weekends, right?

It’s easy to get to Hampshire or London without a car.

I’m not ready to graduate but time marches on.

The bell rings, brace yourselves lads, over the top,

We go together into the unknown beyond.

by Malcolm Gledhill

Snow: Overstretching a Metaphor

Shout out to Ali Hendry wooo

We’ve had a lot of weather recently. Fortunately the weather is mostly back in the rivers and skies where it belongs now. But for a while, we had a lot, and it caused delight and frustration in equal measure. (Although, it should be pointed out, not within individual people.  It’s either delight or frustration. Pick one)

I am firmly in the frustrated camp: my bike, which I go everywhere on, is stricken by snow, with its skinny tyres and lightweight frame rendered helpless by the icy roads; walking was just as problematic, with the 5-minture walk to Tesco extended, penguin-step-by-penguin-step, to double that time. Nevertheless, as an English student with an overactive imagination and love for a good metaphor, snow fascinates me.

If there’s a problem that must be done

Don’t turn your tail and run

Don’t pout; don’t sob

Just do a half-assed job

There’s a Simpson’s episode where Sherry Bobbins – a bargain-basement Mary Poppins – floats in hanging from an umbrella to babysit Bart and Lisa (Maggie is self-reliant). She teaches them to shove all the mess in their rooms into the closet and under the duvet. Out of sight, out of mind. A fresh blanket of snow has the same effect. Every outside surface is covered in a pure, fresh, white blanket of snow that hides everything underneath. It’s beautiful; boring urban vistas look like fairytale vilages and genuine nice parts of the world, like parks and proper fairytale villages usually found in Dorset, are amazing. Transport links are screwed up by snow too*, so for a good number of people a thick surface of snow means an unexpected and delightful holiday. It leads to a ‘I can’t get to work, so I won’t even worry’ attitude, and this is a lovely feeling, an unexpected break from responsibility. In short, snow allows us to forget about the real world for a while. Our problems and the ugly bits of the world are all covered up.

Of course, this idyll cannot last. The snow has to melt, and if it doesn’t melt it turns to ice. Our problems do not really go away, rather they lurk under the surface, waiting for their time again. They’re still there, shoved under the duvet, crammed into the closet. And when they do emerge, they are the equivalent of a metaphorically iced-over footpath: a small problem (walking somewhere) is now quite difficult indeed. The ugly bits come out, and things are worse than before. The closet has been opened, and everything has fallen out into a pile more annoying, difficult and time-consuming than ever before. Maybe we should just have done it properly to begin with. The feeling this prompts is somewhat like the one I experienced in Bruges last April, the feeling of being duped by excessive levels of wonderment.

So screw you, Sherry Bobbins, and screw you Snow.

*In defence of the English transport systems.

Unlike our Scandinavian and Alpine cousins, we only get snow roughly once a year, which lasts for a few days. The cost of setting up a strong snow-coping infrastructure outweighs the cost of financial losses incurred from the havoc caused by the snow. While we may seem pathetic in comparison, it isn’t worth the effort to be super snow-ready. 

Merry Listmas Part III. Best of the Best: SPOTY '00-'12

Without a shadow of a doubt, the 2012 shortlist for BBC Sports Personality of the Year is the strongest ever seen. Bradley Wiggins, Andy Murray, Mo Farah, Jess Ennis, Ben Ainslie would all be shoe-ins as winner for most years of the past two decades; add to those five Hoy, Grainger, Rutherford (not even nominated this year despite a coveted track and field gold), McIlroy, Storey, Adams and Weir, and you've got an absolutely outstanding list.

Consider this: in 1997 Greg Rusedski won SPOTY for reaching the US Open final; Andy Murray may yet come fourth even though he won the US Open (against a far stronger field than the class of '97), and won  Olympic Gold and Silver, and reached the Wimbledon final. In 2010, Tony McCoy won and Phil "The Power" Taylor came second; in 2009 Ryan Giggs won presumably for the reason that he was quite old and received it as some sort of Lifetime Achievement award. Neither would be in with a chance this year.

This got me thinking. What would be a top 10 from the years 2000-2012 be? First of all we need some rules. Since SPOTY is awarded on the basis of a sportsperson's efforts over a single calendar year (Ryan Giggs notwithstanding), each candidate could only put forward their annus mirabilis, so for instance from Mark Cavendish's years of dominance in road cycling from 2008-2012, he could only put forwards one year, in his case 2011. This works for and against Olympians, depending on their sport. Due to the relative infrequency of the Olympics a gold medal is a huge achievement: Kelly Holmes, Chris Hoy and Mo Farah, who were able to compete for and win multiple golds in 2004, 2008 and 2012 respectively, are at an advantage against someone like Ben Ainslie, who has won four Olympic golds, but only one in any single year. You could make a case for the deciding factor being percentage of world-title chances converted, but that would throw up numerous sportsmen and women competing in sports outside the Big 5 (football, rugby, athletics, cycling, cricket) who won everything they could. It would be impossible to differentiate between these performances and would result in ten competitors tied for the number 1 spot. Are these unfair? Perhaps, but prioritising the sports with the most participation seems fair enough, and restricting it to one calendar year is in keeping with SPOTY's 12-month ethos.

There is also an inherent bias against team players. Such is the nature of team sports that outstanding individuals are harder to discern. It also throws up the question of whether a team sportsman (and it is only men I'm afraid who could come close on this list) should be favoured if his team wins, or whether his performance can be isolated and evaluated properly. This is really difficult to do. Take for instance Steven Gerrard, who came third in 2005 after Liverpool won the Champions League on that "barmy night in Istanbul". Some people think Gerrard was the hero; others think Didi Hamann was the actual orchestrator. How do we rank Gerrard? No idea. As such, only two team players have made the top ten.

Speaking of which, on with the countdown

10. Jess Ennis (2012)

The last spot on this list was contested tightly between Freddie Flintoff and Jess Ennis. Flintoff won it in 2005 for the remarkable Ashes win, a series in which he was England captain. It was a fantastic achievement: the first win for ages against a particularly strong Australia, which could count Ricky Ponting, Shane Warne, Adam Gilchrist and Michael Clarke amongst its numbers. But Jess Ennis has been favoured for three reasons: 1) Heptathlon gold means Ennis can be considered the best all-round sportswoman in the world, 2) Her 100m hurdles performance was so good she would have won gold in 2008 in that event, 3) She did it at our home games, 4) The pressure on her was incredible as not only our biggest, brightest track and field medal hope, but also as a severe hottie that meant her face was on billboards across the country.

9. Chris Hoy (2008)

Enough to win it in 2008, Hoy only makes ninth here. Hoy's achievements are clear cut: he won almost everything in 2008, taking two golds and a silver at the World Championships and three golds at the Beijing Olympics. While circumstances elevated Ennis above Flintoff, it is circumstances that prevent Hoy from getting a higher position. British track cycling was utterly dominant in 2008, with huge amounts of money and expertise available to the British squad, putting Hoy at a large advantage. We take track cycling so much more seriously than other nations, too. That said, Hoy's achievements are still colossal.

8. Andy Murray (2012)

The US Open title, Olympic Gold, Olympic Silver and Wimbledon finalist: with that haul Murray is indisputably our best ever tennis player. Murray's story is made that much more special by his seemingly eternal position as a nearly-man. If he got past Federer, there was Nadal, if he got past Nadal, there was Djokovic, one all-time great after another. Then he managed it, providing us with hours of excruciating drama across the year. Almost as much as the titles he won, it's his never-say-die attitude that is most enduring in the memory.


7. Mark Cavendish (2011)

2011 was Mark Cavendish's best year, the best road sprint-cyclist in history. Cav dominated, winning the green jersey at the Tour de France, taking five stages including the Champs-Elysee finale, and the World Road Race. The Green Jersey at the Tour is rarely won by riders that solely target stage wins - the intermediate sprints points available more than compensate for a rider that finishes 2nd, 3rd or 4th in a stage-ending sprint. Cavendish is rubbish at the intermediate sprints, particularly in the mountains, so he had to rely on stage wins to fill out his points total. He did this in style, rarely giving his opposition a chance. His World Road Race win was a culmination of four years of hard work by British cycling, who furnished Cavendish with one of the most formidable teams ever seen at the event. That said, it was far, far from a simple task, because every other team would be aware of Cavendish's invincibility in a bunch sprint. The team was able to neutralise opponents' attacks, setting Cav up to do what Cav does best.


5. Kelly Holmes (2004), Mo Farah (2012)

I've tied Holmes and Farah at fifth because their achievements are almost indistinguishable. Both double Olympic gold medalists  both firsts for Britons, both on the track, both in (at least from this sprinter's point of view) distance running. Holmes won in the face of extreme personal problems - injury, depression - while Farah won in the face of extreme competition in The Africans, who as a continental force have since 1980 won Olympic gold in the 5000m and 10000m on every occasion bar two.

3. Wilkinson/Johnson (2003)

The inspirational captain or the talisman? No use differentiating between the two either: they can share a spot. Even ignoring the Six Nations Grand Slam and the #1 ranking, England's 2003 Rugby World Cup win was perhaps the country's greatest achievement since 1966, and provided us with the enduring image of Wilkinson's trademark penalty-kicking pose. Of course, the win was very much a team effort, and without the immense talents of Dallaglio, Greenwood, Robinson, Dawson, Cohen, Moody, Vickery and the lot, it would not have been possible. However, we can't pick all of them, so we'll follow SPOTY's lead, which nominated Wilkinson and Johnson, who took the top two spots in 2003. They may have made the number 2 spot (number 1 is set in stone), but there's that anti-team bias that I mentioned before. Wilkinson's kicking was unerring, but would not have been possible without the powerful forwards winning penalties and getting him into drop-goal positions. Likewise Johnson was one of our best players and an inspiration throughout, but hasn't quite done enough on an individual basis to go higher.

2. Bradley Wiggins (2012)

The Tour de France is the world's biggest race. It's the longest, the toughest and the most storied, with it's 99 editions containing epic feats of endurance, tragedy, death, scandal, and glory. It attracts the most spectators of any sporting event, with the 2000-odd kilometers of the route lined start to finish with spectators, who number in their millions. It had also, until this year, never been won by a Brit. It was the final sporting frontier. Wiggins won it, and won it well. This alone is not enough to rank him a lofty 2nd, however. Most Western-European countries can boast a winner (and, not incidentally, mountains); even Luxembourg has a winner of the Tour de France. Three in fact. What puts Wiggins ahead is his dominance of every race he entered, from the early season tours (Normandie, Paris-Nice, Criterium du Dauphine), to the Olympic time-trial win, via the Tour. Put into the tumultuous context of the sport, namely the Lance Armstrong drugs scandal, Wiggins has emerged as something of a saviour of cycling: a legitimately clean Tour de France winner. Wiggins in 2012 has heralded a new era of cycling, and swept the cheating, bullying, egotistical Lance Armstrong, and everything he represents, aside.

1. Paul Radcliffe (2003)

Paula Radcliffe didn't even win SPOTY in 2003. She was beaten by those rugby players above. She did win it in 2002, but that wasn't her best year. In 2003, she finished the London marathon in a time of 2:15:25. This is one of the single greatest feats by any sportsperson in history, male or female. It was a world record by a huge margin. The next best time by someone other than Paula Radcliffe is 2:18:47 by Catherina Ndereba, which was itself a fantastic run, taking a minute off the previous record. Radcliffe's world record is simply a staggering time; perhaps the nearest equivalent would be steroid-enhanced Florence Joyner-Griffith's 100m WR of 10.48s, which will likely never be beaten by a clean athlete. There isn't much more to add to this final entry: it was simply a run of brutal speed and endurance.

MERRY LISTMAS PART II - A.K.A BIG BUTS

First things first: BIG SHOUT OUT TO JOHN WRIGHT WHO READS THESE WOO.

While writing out the two lists below, I had a realisation. It's actually been at best a pretty sucky year for music, and only a mildly good one for film. However, all things being equal, there is a great balancer that puts 2012 on par with every other year. Sport.

My God, has this been the best year ever for sport, particularly for an English football/athletics/cycling/tennis-lover like me? The only blemish was on the football side of things, where Spurs were cruelly screwed out of European qualification by those jammy West Londoners Chelsea, and England did their usual from the penalty spot against Andrea Pirlo and his team of classy Italians. But everything else? Brits made the other countries looks silly. Anyway, here's a countdown of the best sporting moments of the year.

15. Chris Hoy Makes It Six

Edged out of selection for the individual sprint by Jason Kenny and moving rapidly through his 37th year on this fair earth, I had my doubts that Hoy could match his Beijing performance and win gold in every event he participated it. But the indomitable Scotsman did it. I just rewatched his Kierin win and it was incredible. It looked like he was going to be overhauled by Max Levy of Germany but he forced him wide then kicked again round the last bend to take it by a length. The team sprint was less tightly contested. A sliver medal from Sydney 2000 aside, Hoy was able to retire from Olympic competition undefeated.


14. The Unbeatable David Weir

What makes David Weir special is his ability to dominate over seemingly any distance he puts his mind to. In the London 2012 Paralympics, Weir won the 800m, the 1500m, the 5000m and the marathon. I would put money on him winning the sprints too, but with a tight schedule as it was he didn't have the time.

The 5000m came first, followed by a defence of his 1500m title from Beijing. He defeated Marcel Hug, the world record holder to win the 800m, and in the last day of competition he won gold number four in the marathon. This was domination taken to an extreme, and ensured that Britain's most famous paralympian remained that way, despite the fierce competition from Britain's other paralympic stars.


13. Spain Turn Up The Style

Looking back, it seems stupid that I ever thought that Spain were not the favourites to win Euro 2012. World and European champions as they may be, I thought that the young buckaneering German team would take it. Wrong. Spain passed their way into the final and were thoroughly boring for most of the competition, seemingly happy to do the bear minimum to progress. They faced Italy in the final, who had held them to a draw in the group stages. And they shone. The Italians were blitzed, utterly outclassed, and Spain were runaway 4-0 victors. Euro 2008, World Cup 2010 and now Euro 2012 - the Iberian steamroller can now claim to be the greatest international team of all time.

12. David Rudisha breaks the 800m record

Rudisha was always going to win the 800m. He was perhaps the most overwhelming favourite in any event at London 2012, more so than Bolt, Ennis and the rest. It was just a matter of how fast he could go. And go he did. His splits were staggering. His elegant stride carried him to a ridiculous 49.28 at 400m. He kicked at 500m, and the others could not follow. 18-year-old Amos tried, and limited his losses in the last 200m, but Rudisha was too far ahead. He maintained his immaculate technique and maintained his lead and crossed the line in the first sub 1:41 800m in history.

11. Richard Whiteheads's 200m Triumph

The 2012 Olympics were arguably the best ever; there is no doubt whatsoever that the 2012 Paralympics were the best ever. My personal highlight, ahead of Ellie Simmons and David Weir, was Richard Whitehead's unbelievable 200m win. One of the quirks of the paralympics is that certain disabilities lead to weaknesses in one area and strengths in another. Richard Whitehead, with his double blades, could only struggle round the bend, and was in 8th with 100m to go. But - get used to that word - the track straightened out, and Whitehead let rip. He stormed through the field like no one I've ever seen: with a 7m deficit at the start of the straight he finished like a freight train and took the win by 20m.

10. Big Ben Beats the Great Dane

He's the Chris Hoy of sailing. Unbeaten since he took silver in his first Olympics in Atlanta, Ainslie headed to Weymouth with a nation expecting a gold medal. And then it looked for all the world like his great rival, the Dane Jonas Hogh-Cristensen would beat him. Ainslie seemed powerless as Hogh-Cristensen finished ahead in all of the first six races. The gap was huge: a fifteen point margin separated them. Then in the seventh race, Ainslie won and HC finished eighth. The tide had turned but Ainslie was still some way behind. A series of narrow wins set up the final race: Ainslie needed to beat HC by two places to take Gold. And with a little help from the New Zealander Dan Slater, he did, and became the greatest Olympic sailor of all time.

9. England Bosh the All Blacks.

Second in the Six Nations (again) and beaten by Australia and South Africa in the autumn series, England, up against the All Blacks, looked to be heading for an ignominious end to the year. In the pre-match debate, some touted this All Blacks team as the greatest in history. Rarely had a team contained such brute strength, skill and intelligence as this team, led by Richie McCaw and the superhuman Dan Carter.

Were they complacent? Did they expect England to roll over? Well, they didn't. A dominating performance from the All Whites' forwards set up Owen Farrell to kick over 15 unanswered points at the half time break. Then the second half started, and the antipodeans realised they had a match on their hands and the All Black class became apparent: two quick tried reduced the deficit to one point. It looked like England would crumble. Then Brad Barritt went over. And Tuilagi. And Ashton. New Zealand hit back again but it was too late: England defeated a New Zealand side unbeaten in 20 tests by a record margin. It was the biggest win by a northern hemisphere team over the Kiwis in history.

8. Chelsea's Champion's League Triumph

It is with gritted teeth that I put Chelsea's against-the-odds Champions League win at number 8. But it's only fair: this was an underdog story for the ages. Looking down and out at the start of the second last 16 leg, Roberto di Matteo came in and brought the old guard back in from the cold for one last hurrah. Didier Drogba, my word. He played like a man possessed. They overturned a 3-1 defecit to win 5-4 on aggregate over an impressive Napoli, beat Benfica in the quarters comfortably, and then came up against Barcelona. The Barcelona team that can lay claim to be the best of all time, the team that contains the holy triumvirate of Lionel Messi, Xavi Hernandez and Andres Iniesta, to which you could add Puyol, Pique, Fabregas and Alves if only a triumvirate could be more than three.

Chelsea took a hammering but emerged from the home leg with a 1-0 lead thanks to a 45+2' Drogba goal. It wasn't the last injury time goal they would score, either. The second leg saw Barcelona race to a 2-0 lead, John Terry got sent off for kneeing Pedro in the arse, and that, my friends, was that. No team around could protect a lead like Barcelona - they just never give away posession. Except they did, once. Frank Lampard picked the ball up in first half injury time under pressure from Mascherano and with barely a glance up played a beautiful ball through the Barcelona defence into the path of Ramires who lifted it over the on-rushing Valdez. Chelsea were again ahead on aggregate.

At the start of the second half, Didier Drogba who had defended heroically to this point, tripped Fabregas in the box to allow Messi to score from the spot. But he didn't. The ball rebounded off the cross-bar and Chelsea lived to fight on. Barcelona were relentless. Cech got just enough on a goal-bound Messi shot to glance it on the post. Then in the dying seconds: the ball was hoofed upfield. Torres, a man vilified for his poor performances in a Chelsea shirt, picked up the ball. Valdez went to ground. Neville squealed. The ball nestled in the back of the net. 2-2. And that was just the semi.

After that, it seemed fated that Chelsea were going to win the final. Bayern Munich awaited in their home ground. Muller put the hosts ahead in the 82nd minute. Then Drogba - who else? - equalised from a corner. A goalless period of extra time sent the match to penalties. Mata missed, 0-0; Lahm scored, 1-0; Luiz scored, Gomez scored, Lampard scored, Neuer scored, Cole scored 3-3. Then Olic missed and Drogba - who else? - scored, 4-3. Schweinstiger, Bayern Munich with every fiber of his being, missed. Chelsea won. Spurs were demoted from that precious fourth Champions League spot.

7. Usain Bolt

Usain Bolt's Twitter bio proclaims Bolt to be the most naturally talented athlete to ever live. To quote Mark Cavendish, 'it's not arrogant if it's true'. With his feats in Beijing, Bolt achieved a level of superstardom new to athletics. He was all but unbeatable - the most perfect physical specimen, who rewrote what we thought possible. He claimed every sprint world record, and improved on them in 2009.

There's a but. There's always a but. Bolt ran his first ever 10-point 100m in the run-up to the Olympics. Meanwhile, his training partner Yohan Blake was winning with ease. For many people, Bolt was still the king. I thought he could be beaten. I was wrong. He cantered to a 9.8 semi-final win, and I knew then that he would win the final. He had it at 30m.

In the 200m he held off Blake again, winning narrowly at the head of a Jamaican 1-2-3.

With a team with 100m bests of 9.58, 9.69, 9.78 and 9.88 the Jamican quartet was on paper the fastest of all time. They delivered, winning gold and recording a World Record in the process, the first team under 37 seconds. The USA team ran the second fastest time in history but Ryan Bailey could do nothing as the fastest man in history powered away to take the win.

6. The Ryder Cup

Golf can actually be good apparently, who knew? Anyway, seven golfers from the UK were selected for Europe's 12 strong team, and in the first two days of competition, crumbled. Ian Poulter alone took the fight to the Americans, who went into the final day 10-6 ahead (that's a lot).

Luke Donald dispatched Bubba Watson; Paul Lawrie remarkably toppled Brandt Sneedeker. 10-8. McIlroy beat Keegan Bradley; Poulter continued to take the fight to the Americans by beating Webb Simpson; Dustin Johnson overcame Nicholas Colsaerts to take it to 11-10. European momentum slowed at this point: Justin Rose pipped Phil Mickelson but Graeme McDowell lost to Zach Johnson, 12-11. Lee Westwood and Sergio Garcia beat Matt Kuchar and Jim Furyk respectively; Jason Duffner responded to beat Swede Peter Hanson to take it to 13-13. Then the German Martin Kaymer and the Italian Francesco Molinari took on Tiger Woods and Steve Stricker, but the Europeans prevailed, winning by 14 1/2 to 13 1/2, and a comeback for the ages was complete.


5. Aguero Seals the Premier League

It's rare for the 38-game English Premier League to be decided on the final day, but how often is it decided in the final seconds? 38 played, five draws, five losses, 89 points - these were the end-of-season stats for both clubs. Manchester City had won on goal difference, with +64 to United's +56. It was as close as it had ever been.

The final day: Tied on points, United went 1-0 at Sunderland; soon after City followed suit against QPR. In the 48th minute Djibril Cissé, with the first of several 'buts', equalised for City: frustrating for City, sure, but there was still plenty of time to retake the lead. But then, with echoes of Chelsea's win over Barcelona, another controversial Englishman - this time QPR's Joey Barton - got sent off for elbowing Carlos Tevez, and it seemed, as it had in the Camp Nou, that the favourite would roll home. Of course, it was not to be. Jamie Mackie scored for QPR to make it 2-1, and suddenly City palms were sweaty. Mancini prowled. City pressed, but time ticked inexorably towards defeat. United always won - they won against everybody, but they always won against City. It was in their genes. United on top was the rightful order. But maybe Edin Dzeko, a Serbian import, and Sergio Aguero, an Argentinian, couldn't speak English well enough or didn't know the narrative. Dzeko equalised in the 92nd minute, giving the Blue Mancs a sliver of hope. And then, deep, deep, deep into Fergie time, Sergio Aguero picked up a pass from Baloteli and smacked it past the QPR keeper to make it 3-2. The game had barely restarted when the referee called the match - and the league, and the title race - to a close. The noisy neighbours had crashed the party, and for the first time since 1995, a team other than United, Arsenal or Chelsea had won the league.

4. Wiggo In Yellow.

98 editions of the Tour de France had elapsed and no British man had ever worn the coveted yellow jersey in Paris. It was the final frontier: the last great sporting competition that a Brit was yet to win. Robert Millar came close in 1984, coming 4th whilst winning the King of the Mountains jersey. 25 years later Bradley Wiggins made the definitive switch to road racing and fought to an unexpected and valiant fourth behind Alberto Contador, Andy Schleck and the villain of this year, Lance Armstrong. The following year, now a member of the nascent but wealthy Team Sky, Wiggins mounted his second challenge...and finished 24th. He returned once more in 2011, fitter than ever, but crashed out with a broken collarbone early on. It looked like it was never meant to be. But Wiggins recovered to come third in that year's Vuelta a Espana, with teammate Chris Froome taking a surprising second.

The 2012 season started, and Wiggins started winning. First he took Paris-Nice, then the Tour de Normandie, and the Criterium du Dauphine. With Alberto Contador suspended for a drugs violation and Andy Schleck out with a back injury, Wiggins seemingly had to just overcome the defending champion, the Australian Cadel Evans. In the end, the biggest threat came from within Wiggins' own team. Chris Froome out-climbed everyone, and it was only through strictly-enforced team orders that he didn't take any time out of Wiggins in the mountains. Evans slipped back, out of form and out of sorts, and only Vincenzo Nibali of Italy could offer a token resistance to the Wiggins/Froome duopoly.

Had Froome been allowed to attack, it would still be likely that Wiggins would have won. He brought his Olympic pedigree to bear in the two long timetrials, winning both - the first to take yellow; the second to consolidate it - by significant margins.

There is no 'but' in this entry: he even led out his eclipsed-but-still-formidable teammate Mark Cavendish to seal his third consecutive win on the Champs Elysees, and then went on to take Olympic time trial gold. The ease of Wiggins' victory should not detract from the momentousness of his achievement however. If anything, the remarkably low-key nature of his historic win is entirely in keeping with Wiggins' personality: modest but steely.

3. Murray's Revenge

So often the nearly man, Andy Murray had fallen short on the biggest occasions four times in a row: first at the US Open in 2008, then at the Australian in 2010 and 2011, and at Wimbledon - the one every Brit wanted him most to win - in 2012. Even before the events of the months following his defeat at Wimbledon this year unfolded, Murray was Britain's best ever tennis player. Sure, Fred Perry may have won Grand Slams, but he never did it while competing against three of the best players to ever grace the game. And yet the public resisted him. Many were slow to realise that his early-career petulance and grumpiness were things of the past, and that his 'anyone but England' quip was just a joke. There there's the horrible cliché that gets thrown around 'He's British when he wins, Scottish when he loses'. Was that ever true? I doubt it.

Anyway, Murray, as expected, got thrashed by Federer at Wimbledon. But then he did something no one expected. He cried. What on earth? There's more to him than brashness and arrogance, after all! thought the English middle-classes in unison. And then he did something else no one expected. Three weeks after he defeat to Federer, he beat him on the very same court to take Olympic gold. And a little flag kept appearing by his name on the scoreboard. It wasn't the Scottish flag. It was the British flag. The following day he took silver in the doubles with Laura Robson. It felt the transformation was complete. But still: he hadn't won a Grand Slam.

The Great British summer of sport was coming to an end. The Olympics finished, followed soon after by the paralympics. The football, tediously, started again and things were back to normal. No one told Murray. At the US Open he progressed quietly but solidly, beating Lopez, Raonic, Cilic and Berdych to reach his fifth Grand Slam final. Djokovic, his conqueror at the 2011 Australian open, awaited. His stamina is legendary, his mettle unmatched. They fought late into the night. The first set lasted 87 minutes and was settled in Murray's favour with a tie-break - the longest in US Open history. Murray then raced to a 4-0 lead in the second set before, the Djokovic resilience began to tell and was being pegged back agonisingly to 5-5. Murray broke again to take the set 7-5.

The matched dragged past midnight, and Murray weakened. Victory seemed so close but Djokovic had the fitness and the ability, and won the third easily, 6-2. The fourth went his way too, with Murray visibly wilting, and it seemed inevitable that the match would go to Djokovic. Into the early hours now, and my nerves were frayed. Every point seemed momentous. Murray clung on, then, miraculously, broke. And again. His serve was suddenly emphatic, and Djokovic, always capable of producing something, had no answer. Murray took it to 5-2, and was serving for the set. Serve: returned, back and forth, back and forth, Djokovic lob, Murray backhand smash, 15-0. Serve: out, challenge, ace! 30-0. Serve: net. Serve: return, Djokovic long! 40-0. Championship point. Serve: net. Serve: return, Djokovic winner, 40-15. Championship point #2. Serve: long. Serve: Djokovic returns...long! Game, set, match, championship Murray! To quote the man himself, C'MAWWWNNNN!

2. Super Saturday

The Olympics is ultimately about track and field. The cycling is ridiculously exciting, but track and field has the prestige. In Beijing, we won one gold and one silver: Ohurugou in the 400m and Germaine Mason in the high-jump. In London, we won three gold medals in as many hours. Rutherford, Ennis, Farah.

Greg Rutherford, the largely under-the-radar long-jumper, was the first to take gold. He leapt to 8.21m in the second round, and then extended it to 8.31. Rutherford - the the 80'000-strong crowd - could only wait with baited breath as Mitchell Watt, an Australian with a best of 8.54, took his jumps. He could only extend his previous best effort of 8.13 by 3cm; gold went to Rutherford.

Jessica Ennis had been beaten into second place in the 2011 World Championships by Chernova, and at the 2012 European indoors by Dobrynska, who set a new world record. Ennis was the London 2012 golden girl: her (unfairly pretty) face was everywhere, the nation expected, but suddenly she looked vulnerable. The pressure, one can only imagine, must have been crushing.

We needn't have worried. Ennis flew over the hurdles in the opening event, posting the fastest ever heptathlon time and equaling the 2008 gold medal winning time. Chernova and Dobrynska were nowhere. Her jumps was solid; she won the 200m; she limited her losses on her typically weak javelin throw; did well enough in the shot put; and in the last event, the 800m, with victory all but assured, she won in style.

I know a few people that were there that night.

Then came Mo Farah. Like Ennis, he too was beaten into second place in the 2011 Worlds; like Ennis, tonight he was not to be denied. Tonight belonged to Britain. He entered the race with lesson learnt from 2011: don't kick too early. That time he was run down, eyes popping and legs screaming, by the Ethiopian Jeilan.

In control throughout, Farah allowed himself to sit in the middle of the pack, content with the slow time the front runners were posting. As a time-trialist, Farah is beatable. As a racer, he almost isn't. He moved to the front three with five laps to go, alongside his American training partner Galen Rupp. The noise, I'm told, was immense. At three-and-a-half laps to go, the Ethiopians moved to the front: Gebreselassie (but not the Gebreselassie) and the Bekeles. The pack was still 12-strong at 600m. The Kenyans moved to the front, and still Farah waited. At 300m to go he moved to the front; Bekele chased. Then at 100m he kicked again and Bekele had no reponse. His challenge faded; Farah streaked ahead to take gold, and in second place was the skinny American Galen Rupp.

We might never see anything like this again. Three World Champions crowned on the same night, in London. A white man, a mixed-race woman, and a black man, all celebrated with the same borderline-demented exultation - modern, multicultural Britain like never before.

1. The Opening Ceremony

Here are a few things you might have forgotten, washed away by the summer's euphoria. The huge ever-increasing expenditure required to host Games in the face of the recession; the £400k god-awful logo; the over-bearing corporate presence; the tickets pricing debale; the Orbit; transport and infrastructure fears; the G4S fiasco; the rooftop missile platforms; the task of following Beijing; worrying early opening ceremony reports. These were the big stories before the Olympics. Optimism was scarce. LOCOG and Lord Coe insisted that the Games would be a success; others were doubtful. It could be an embarrassment. Look what we had to match: The Beijing Olympics was magnificent. They pumped $44bn into the 2008 Olympics. The Bird's Nest and the Water Cube were the best ever; the opening ceremony unmatched by history. The competition itself was fantastic, and ushered in an all-time superstar in the tall, lithe, charismatic figure of Usain Bolt. We were going to wilt. However, that word again, for the last time:

But we didn't. Danny Boyle rewrote the rulebook for opening ceremonies. The fear was we could never match the splendour and might of Beijing. And that was probably true, so Boyle, the ultimate artistic chameleon, didn't even try.

What he put on was unlike anything seen before. It was eccentric, esoteric, barmy and brilliant. And English countryside theme - okay. Then the industrial revolution bit and the forging of the five rings - pretty coo-is that Sgt. Peppers? What are they doing here? Then things went up a notch. A tribute to the NHS - underfire from the American Right, remember - as the most important social institution of our time. The our literary heritage came to the fore, Voldemort stalking childrens' beds. Tim Berners-Lee was next, a modest man who happens to be the most influential man who ever lived, and commentators around the world frantically shuffled through their notes to work out who he is. Mr. Bean reminded everyone just how funny we can be, and then James Bond and the Queen, the Brookside lesbian kiss was broadcast on Saudi television...

...and on it went. Surprise after surprise, delight after delight. The UK's collective patriotic hard-on would have reached the moon. We're actually quite good, after all, aren't we? We might have lost our Empire, our weather might be bad and our economic clout is on the wane but we still have the most creative, diverse, clever, inventive 60 million people to be found on this earth. Then our team of the 541 fittest and strongest of us set upon the best the world could muster, and we came third! Rio 2016: deeply, Good Luck.