Not that I am feeling smug or anything, you understand but I got all the London 2012 Olympic tickets I wanted.
I registered, along with millions of others and applied through the first ballot system. I wasn’t greedy and knew there was no point applying for the events that everybody wanted to see: opening / closing ceremonies; men’s 100M final; women’s beach volleyball etc. So I kept it simple: some rowing (as it is local and J rows at school) and some hockey (as both Mr B and C are keen hockey players).
I checked dates and made sure they were not going to clash with the two weeks we normally go on holiday etc and made plans for 18 months in advance, something I would never normally do.
Tad frustrated that for some of the events you could only apply for four tickets and we are a family of five, though. It would mean selling a small person between now and 2012 but I figured I wouldn’t be alone in that act and eBay might relax their rules on child trafficing as the demand would be so high.
I ensured that my credit card had the £600 clear that would be needed if I was successful in my efforts.
That in itself should be an Olympic sport: credit card limit juggling. But I did it, kept the whole thing clear because, whilst I know that it would be unlikely that I would get all I applied for, if there wasn’t enough on the card for what I did win, I would lose out. There would be no “it’s okay you can pay on the day” type emails.
The Day of Debit arrived and I watched keenly to see if I could finally
go off and buy a new handbag say I had been successful. Amounts were going to be debited and people left for weeks before an email notification of what had been awarded would be sent out.
Hmmmm nothing had gone off my card.
And then an email saying I had not been successful.
OK, that is fine. There was a second chance just around the corner. That day was yesterday. We could all set our alarms for 6am and log on, apply for what we wanted and we would all be happy.
Lots of people realised that you had to have applied the first time to be able to do this and were caught out. I tried to sell my log in details to somebody. But that didn’t work.
I could be smug. I did have a log in. I could log on early and apply. Or at least try to apply.
I have got wise to these “mass log in events” having seen what happens when George Michael or Take That tickets go on sale. Websites crash and people end up posing on the front page of the Daily Mail pulling their hair out at right angles to their heads to demonstrate their frustration.
We were assured that as 2012 committees knew how many people would be trying they had worked out a way of making sure the website held up. Did we believe that for one minute? Call me an old cynic but I didn’t.
So I didn’t bother. I stayed in bed. And watched on Twitter as people all ranted that the system had “fallen over” and they were told “please try again in a few minutes”.
This wasn’t out of any kind of apathy but because I have been incredibly lucky inbetween the first and second ballots. I have managed to get hold of all the tickets I wanted. For all of us. And for all the events I wanted to see, and some of the others, too.
Tickets that have not cost me an arm and a leg.
Have not resulted in me selling a small person
Where the loos are clean (actually that is debatable)
The food edible (see above parenthesis)
I won’t have to queue for hours to get in or get stuck behind a tall bloke or next to an American that doesnt understand the rules and talks the whole way through.
You have worked it out now, too, haven’t you?
Yep, I shall be home, watching it all from my sofa.
Yes there is the brigade of “but I want my children to be able to say they were there”. Really? Is it so important? That isn’t about you wanting it for your children’s sake. It is about you being able to say “look how clever I was, I applied, I got up early, I am taking my children, aren’t I a wonderful parent?”
Sorry, I don’t need that reassurance.
If my children want to see the Olympics we have more chance of getting tickets for 2016 and making a holiday of it. After all apparently tickets for 2012 go on sale to the Americans this week, I bet they all get what they apply for.
So if you did get London 2012 tickets, good for you. I am thrilled for you. But not half as chuffed as I am that we get to see it all in HD on our own sofa. Where we can pause it for a wee and rewind it if we think we have missed something. Not have to explain the rules to somebody else. Or when it gets boring, go off and do something else.
Now, did somebody mention handbags?
Olympics rings image courtesy of Shutterstock