The Olympics Games have always held a fascination for me. I was born in an Olympic year, 1960, and Mexico 1968 with Tommie Smith’s black power salute, Bob Beamon’s jaw dropping long jump and David Hemery’s hurdles gold medal are among my earliest sporting memories.

 

In 1972 news of Valery Borzov’s sprint double, Mark Spitz’s domination in the pool and the horrors of the Olympic Village massacre filtered through from Munich to my family holiday in Brittany via tiny TV screens in local bars and three day old copies of the Daily Mail. 

 

By Montreal in 1976, aged 15, I was on a scout camp in Devon, listening to the radio commentary of Trinidadian Hasely Crawford’s surprise win in the 100 metres and by the time 1980 came along I was a lowly pensions administration clerk rushing home to watch Allan Wells, Seb Coe, Steve Ovett and Daley Thompson triumph in Moscow.    

 

The Los Angeles Games coincided with my first taste of radio journalism at my local station County Sound in Guildford where I was a breakfast show runner, helping compile the news and sport for bulletins. Even then, if someone had told me than that I'd actually be at the next Olympics in Seoul as a commentator and reporter I'd have drugs tested them for LSD, magic mushrooms and methylated spirits.

 

And yet, having eventually graduated to the ranks of sports reporter at Independent Radio News (IRN) I embarked upon my own Olympic odyssey which spanned the five Games between Seoul 1988 and Athens 2004. 

 

Now don't get me wrong, the BBC covers the Olympics brilliantly on TV, Radio and online. And so they should, since they routinely send more people out to the Games than the Team GB do and have a special correspondent for virtually every sport.

 

At IRN things were rather different. Generally we would have a staff of two with a brief as far and wide as the event itself. Basically it was a giant treasure hunt in which, using our journalistic and sporting instincts as metal detectors, we would scour the host city for the merest whiff of gold, silver or bronze for Britain.

 

When it came to athletics and swimming this was relatively straightforward given that we understood the sport and knew the performers well, but just as often we would find ourselves reporting from events of which we had little or no knowledge. And that is where things didn't always go according to plan. 

 

At Sydney 2000 archer Alison Williamson was considered a medal hope and so I went along to do an interview with her as a scene setter. I knew nothing about archery but, assuming it couldn't be too complicated and keen to sound well informed, I came out with, what I thought, was a clever opening question.

 

"So four long years of training and preparation all comes down to that little red cirle at the centre of the target."

 

"It’s yellow," she replied.

 

In Barcelona when Chris Boardman (pictured) and his super bike became one of the biggest stories of the Games I headed of to the Velodrome to capture the British cyclist’s bid for glory in the 4,000 metres Individual Pursuit. 

 

Although cycling is now an Olympic sport at which Britain regularly excels, in 1992 it barely warranted a mention and so I was far from being an expert. Indeed, prior to Boardman’s success, the last time Britain had won a gold medal on two wheels was courtesy of a couple of blokes on a tandem in 1912. 

 

I was not providing actual live coverage of the race but wanted to capture a commentary the final lap on tape so that it could be replayed in forthcoming news bulletins. It was clear, even to a cycling neophyte like me, that Boardman was going to win, as he was almost on Lehman’s shoulder as the last lap loomed and, barring a stray cat or a Spanish lollipop lady wandering across the track in front of him, the gold medal was as good as his. The bell rang for the final lap and I took a deep breath and got as far as. "It's Chris Boardman for Great Britain…legs pumping furiously in pursuit of golden glory……"

 

At which point Boardman whizzed past his German opponent Jens Lehmann (no, not the former Arsenal goalkeeper), raised his arms and then freewheeled for a hundred metres or so before dismounting and punching the air in triumph. 

 

What I had singularly failed to understand was that once a rider overtakes his opponent he has won the race, since the pursuit has been successfully completed.  In my defence, it has to be said that this outcome is extremely rare and had never before occurred in an Olympic final.

 

I am just thankful that, during my Olympic time, there were never any British medal prospects in the individual sabre or Greco Roman wrestling.
 

Freelance broadcaster John Anderson covered five Olympic Games in a long career as the chief sports reporter at Independent Radio News. Now he’s written a memoir entitled "A Great Face For Radio", which is packed with hilarious anecdotes, witty observations and fascinating behind the scenes insights drawn from almost two decades on the road. To order a copy click here.