Worst Games Ever? From Disaster to Calamity

Flushed by the success in the ski moguls of Alexandre Bilodeau, who on ­Sunday became the first Canadian ever to win ­Olympic gold on home soil, the national mint announced today it was issuing a ­commemorative coin to mark the ­occasion. What chance an enterprising Canadian carpenter is working on a ­commemorative wooden spoon for the organisers of the 2010 Winter Games?

The former IOC president Juan ­Antonio Samaranch had a habit of signing off at the closing ceremony of every Olympics by calling it "the best Games ever", regardless of what had happened over the previous two weeks. But in the real world there is another epithet up for grabs that is both unofficial and unwanted: worst Games ever.

It is hard to believe anything will surpass the organisational chaos and naked commercial greed of the 1996 Summer Games in Atlanta or the financial ­disaster of the 1976 Games, which ­bankrupted Montreal, yet with every passing day the sense of drift and nervousness about the Vancouver Games grows ever more noticeable.

The Canadian mint may be working overtime making coins, Canadian politicians may be working overtime ­issuing congratulatory statements about ­medal-winning performances by home athletes and the official website of Vanoc, the Games' organising ­committee, ­continues to pump out celebratory tweets on its Twitter feed: YAAAAYY! GOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD.

Such euphoria – or faux euphoria – may be the message that Vanoc wants the world to hear and it may help buoy the spirits of the organisers and volunteers but every nugget of good news has been followed by the hard rock of bad news.

Today it was that 4,000 ticket holders for snowboarding events at the Cypress mountain complex would have to be refunded their money.

Torrential rain had washed away snow, making it impossible to build spectator viewing areas that would be safe, ­organisers explained. The loss of ticket revenue amounted to $400,000 (£243,000). The loss of face was immeasurable.
"Cypress is like your special child," explained Renee Smith-Valade, who sounded more like a social worker at the end of her tether than the head of ­communications for Vanoc. "Your ­special child that is bright and talented and ­good-looking and causes you all kinds of worries. But they are still your special child."

Did the IOC make a mistake in giving the Games to Vancouver, the warmest city to be granted the "­honour"? The ­question has already been posed by some and it might be described as unfair. After all, unlike the organisers of the Beijing Games, Smith-Valade and her colleagues are not in a position to control the weather. But what about the transportation system, which some would call sporadic and others would describe as chaotic? And the same goes for the electrical wiring on the Cypress mountain, which blew a fuse at the weekend and closed the concession stands?

"We want to make sure that anyone who comes to an Olympic venue has an opportunity to enjoy it fully and that includes having something to eat and drink," Smith-Valade said, before ­offering an explanation of the myriad transport ­difficulties that caused, among other things, the Premier of British ­Columbia, Gordon Campbell, and the chiefs of the four host First Nations to miss the ­singing of the Canadian anthem at Friday's ­opening ceremony.

It was the fault of protesters who blocked the bus route, apparently. ­Unfortunately for Vanoc, there were no protesters inside the BC Place stadium to blame when the hydraulics used to construct the torch bowl failed at the ­climax of the event.

The ceremony itself was dedicated to the memory of the Georgian luger Nodar Kumaritashvili, who had died ­earlier that day during a training run at the Whistler sliding centre. That was judged as a fitting gesture but it has not stopped questions about the safety of the sliding track and the culpability for the ­Georgian's death.
Most worryingly of all for the organisers in Vancouver, Vanoc has failed to quell the growing sense that the 2010 ­Winter ­Olympics will be remembered as ­something substantially less than a triumph.