For me, the 2012 Olympics will always be a thousand people crammed into a tiny pub to watch Mo Farah in the 5,ooo metres final. People jammed in so tight no one can move, even if you wanted to. People spilling out onto the streets, people watching through the windows. They’ve been coming all afternoon, all evening, from all over London, and all anyone wants to know as they come through the door is “What’s the latest from the Olympics?” People are greeting complete strangers like long-lost … [Read more...]