2012 is the new ‘66
**As I sit here, jaw agape, watching the final few frenetic seconds of the Celtic-Barcelona game, I can’t help but postulate whether this truly is Great Britain’s finest ever year in sport. It is a bold proposition indeed, but one that’s supported by a seemingly unremitting stream of remarkable individual and team performances. This is our ’66.**
2012 has been a year of firsts, of which none is more impressive than Bradley Wiggins’s Tour De France win – the first by a Briton since the tournament’s inception in 1903. It is a feat made all the more impressive when you consider he was back atop his bike a week later in the Olympic time trial – an event he approached with an air of impudence as he went on to decimate a field of supposed peers. In doing so he become the first man to take this double. He truly was in a class of his own; his languid persona belying a man with a razor-sharp focus.
It may be a romantic notion, but I am convinced that Wiggo’s achievements proved a tangible catalyst for the success that has defined this summer – a timely reminder that records are neither preordained, nor beyond the reach of those that dare to dream.
If Bradley’s triumphs were indeed the seminal starter, then the London Olympics were surely the sumptuous main course. As a spectacle it transcended the limitations of sport in unifying the uninitiated or apathetic and developed into a spellbinding anthology of intertwining stories, each with its own gratifying ending.
I defy anyone not to have been moved by the ‘Golden Hour’ of athletics as it has since been coined. It really was a magical night of sport, as the thunderous applause of the immensely lucky spectators reverberated across the capital.
The panel for next month’s Sports Personality of the Year have a truly unenviable task in compiling a shortlist for the Individual award, let alone the Team of the Year. I get the feeling that in any other year Andy Murray would be a shoe-in for the top prize, considering how he mercifully succeeded in putting Fred Perry’s ghost to rest, winning the US Open’s Grand Slam singles after a torturous 76-year barren spell. Unluckily for him, it just so happens that his dramatic upturn in form has coincided with a spate of similarly virtuosic displays.
When reflecting on 2012’s sporting highlights it would be incredibly remiss of me not to mention the spectacular series of events at Medinah this summer. The concluding day in the Ryder Cup was nothing short of miraculous; with 12 points up for grabs and only 4 and a half required for victory, the USA team contrived to throw away what seemed to be an unassailable lead, only managing to accrue a meagre three and a half points. Ian Poulter once again proved why he should be considered one of the all-time greatest match-play golfers; as he went on to engineer the faintest glimmer of hope in the twilight hours of the penultimate day. It was a turn of events that beautifully epitomised the importance of momentum and self-belief in sport. Seve would’ve been so proud.
As the nights draw in, and the year end approaches, it’s slightly disheartening to think that such an incredible year of sport is slowly coming to an end. One thing’s for sure: 2012 will be etched in the memory for generations to come. I feel privileged to have witnessed it.
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