Patriotism

Follow @JohnPlatinumG Team GB won seven of the ten gold medals available in the velodrome at this year's London Olympics. What an outstanding achievement! Well done the men's team sprint, Jason Kenny, Sir Chris Hoy, Vicky Pendleton, women's team pursuit and Laura Trott (Trotty). It is not all about winning. I spare a thought for Jess Varnish who will not be getting her gold for four years, but whose day will come. What an incredible indoor team. Add this to the great sporting success of Bradley Wiggins in the time trial and British cycling is truly on the map. And again spare a thought for Mark Cavendish, who, partly because of gamesmanship from the German and Australian teams, failed to get an expected gold in the road race.

My crest rose with pride to see these superb athletes raise the profile of British cycling. When my country succeeds in anything but waging war it makes me so happy I search diligently for the right superlative. As Sir Walter Scott wrote 'Breathes there a man with soul so dead, who never to himself hath said, this is my own, my native land'.

But patriotism can be taken to extreme, and when it comes to waging war Horace was so wrong in what Wilfred Owen referred to as that 'old lie'. It is not good and honourable to die for your country. It is foolish. Nobody should take any pride when their country wages war, especially when it is to steal oil. We should steep ourselves in shame. I know I do.

Governments should take a look at the spirit of the Olympic games and the way people of all nationalities embrace the competitiveness without wanting to kill one another or steal their possessions. Look at the way Mo Farah has excelled in talented events formerly the domain of those who possess the African long-distance running gene. Again it has made me proud to be British. Well done Mo!

There is something not quite right however when athletes are encouraged to mime to an eighteenth century dirge which contains the line 'send her victorious'. I would dearly love a new national anthem in the spirit of the Olympics the words of which embrace all cultures and nationalities. The cyclists did us proud as a nation. They competed at the highest level and got the highest results. They spoke with their legs and legged it with their spokes. They did not have to mouth to this patriotic nonsense, and they did not. That kind of business is more what you expect from the horse-people and Eton rowers. Our cyclists did not make an issue of not miming. But Piers Morgan did. Texting Bradley Wiggins he got one of the most classic rebuffs I have ever seen.

Piers Morgan, who as editor of the Daily Mirror did a fine job in opposing the Iraq war, and though he was unable to prevent this catastrophic blight on Britain's reputation for honesty and fair-play, at least he tried. So what happened to Piers over the years? Now he spends much of his life in the US, the country that got us into those disastrous and expensive wars in Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya and elsewhere. On twitter Morgan wrote:

'I was very disappointed @bradwiggins didn't sing the anthem either. Show some respect to our monarch please!'

Bradley Wiggins replied:

'@piersmorgan I was disappointed when you did not go to jail for insider dealing and phone-hacking, but you know, each to his own'. How classic! Brad Wiggins (Wiggo) I have no idea who could surpass you as sports personality of the year. You'll be getting my vote for sure.

The cream of world cycling

Follow @JohnPlatinumG

Bradley Wiggins, with the aid of team Sky, rode over the cobbled stones of Paris to win the Tour de France for the first time for a British cyclist. Chris Froome took second place. World champion, Mark Cavendish, won the sprint on the last stage and was launched into his final assault by Bradley Wiggins. With the Olympics starting on Friday it was a magnificent effort from a team with gold-dust in their eyes.

When I was a boy I grew up in the village of Harworth, North Nottinghamshire on the West Riding border with Yorkshire. Tommy Simpson was a local hero and lived just down the road from Sandy Mount, where we lived. Every night he would cycle up our road and do a 30 plus mile tour of what is now South Yorkshire. It took him about an hour. We, my brother Charles, Bill Brett and myself, would from time to time cycle to Tickhill Spital cross-roads where the road to Tickhill is straight and long. We would wait until we saw Tommy Simpson coming in the distance and see how far up the Bawtry Road incline we could get before he came zooming past to swiftly disappear round the corner. Top cyclists have something that separates them from those who use their bikes for leisure purposes.

I remember Tommy Simpson bringing the bronze medal he won at the Melbourne Olympics to show Bircotes scout cubs in 1956. He was a popular local figure and Britain’s top cyclist at the time. Talking to Tommy Godwin in the eighties at his bike shop in Selly Oak I learnt of a race that Godwin had watched in which Tommy Simpson and a German cyclist were battling it out well clear of the rest of the field. As Simpson went past he shouted “Get ‘em in Tommy. I’ve got this guy beaten.” And he did win the race. Tommy Simpson was the highest British achiever before Bradley Wiggins.

Always knowing my limitations, that I would never be a top cyclist, it did not stop me from getting on a bike. It is still one of the most pleasant ways to travel, especially when the weather is good. In late December 1999/2000 I cycled the North and South Islands of New Zealand linking up on the Wellington/Picton ferry with a German cyclist, Thomas Hugenschmidt, with whom I stay in touch. So I let the millennium in 12 hours before my fellow countrymen and women. Later in 2000 from August to early December I cycled from Birmingham to the Azerbaijan border but a severe stomach bug curtailed my journey any further. I was heading to Samarkand. I got a bus back from Tbilisi to the Turkish border, then another to Istanbul. When I recovered I took my bike on a Niki Lauda plane to Madrid and after contacting and staying with an old friend cycled from Madrid to central France, finishing at a village called Ambert. I had been following a trail of hand-made paper and decided to terminate my journey at the Richard de bas paper mill, where they still have a set of old stampers. Stampers preceded the Hollander machines for making pulp-stock.

Hopefully, with the success of British riders today, more people will take up this healthy pastime. You do not have to be a top cyclist to enjoy the ride.