The Bronze Age

The gym was packed last night, all sorts of sculpted types lazing about on the plush couches before their classes. The swimming was on the telly, Team GB's great hope Stephen Parry about to compete in the 200m butterfly final.

When he beat Phelps in the heats the night before he'd given the most articulate and optimistic interview to the BBC, all aggressive and determined. He wanted to rally the troops, urge them to rise above their disappointing meet at Sydney 2000. It was inspiring stuff.

So I was late to my stupid BodyJam class to watch the race. I cheered out loud when he took the bronze. All the gym bunnies didn't even look up from their lattes.

That's what I miss about being at home for the Olympics. How it feels like the whole nation is behind the team. I miss the obsessing, the constant sporty talk, the unabashed patriotism and cheering. The fans are just a bit quieter over here.