This summer London was taken over by a queasy mix of
oddly-shaped people who had ravaged their bodies to run a bit
faster, or throw things a bit further, and an uncountable army of
crocodile-like chancers, brand-managers and corporate cheerleaders.
A blameless piece of the East End, at scarcely credible cost, was
torn apart to allow this specialised crowd a free rein.
In a fearless piece of writing, Nicholas Lezard gives a
blow-by-blow account of what we have all just gone through - the
highs and lows, tragedies and triumphs, laughter and tears, and
soul-destroying boredom."The Nolympics "is a celebration of perhaps
Britain's most attractive quality - its intermittent flicker of
anarchism, derision and awkwardness. It is a book for anyone who
refused to wade into the quagmire of modern sport and who feels
that somewhere along the way the Spirit of the Games was smothered
by the creepy individuals who squat at the heart of the British
state.
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