Olympic Impressions. Epilogue - Welcoming the team home.
As time goes on, the hall quietly fills up. An RYA poster-stand appears, and acts as a focus for increasing activity, knots of people gathering around it. Airport workers turn up with a trolley full of BAA barriers, and start unstacking them to create a corridor leading to a back exit, obviously the escape route for the medallists. At least two dozen journalists in evidence, wandering about with cameras, TV gear, notepads, discussing Very Important stuff earnestly and brushing off the attentions of police who understandably want to know what's in their bags, left scattered on the margins.
Spectators gathering on the gallery above the hall, flags being hung over the sides, the coffeeshop opposite filling up with Olympic fans, parents and friends. Going down into the hall, although we know they aren't likely to appear for at least half an hour, there's a buzz of expectation, everyone chatting about who they're meeting, why they wanted to come down, what they thought of the Olympics. A woman clutching a postcard and pen, just wants to get Kelly Holmes' autograph (she does, after much persistence). A group of young gymnasts who are from the same Leatherhead club as gymnast Katy Lennon have come along to cheer their idol and role model on, banners and posters included. Some have made up posterboards of the headlines and huge centre-spreads from the newspaper coverage, which several athletes later say is the first time they've encountered the media fall-out from their achievements.
The area now packed, especially round the barricades - at least 800 people here, and looking up to the galleries, probably breaking 1000. The flight's landed, and there's half an hour or so of muttering anticipation, with a few false starts as BOA press officers are inadvertently cheered when they rush through checking details. The arrivals door is centre-stage, and the exit corridor has been split in two like a pair of trousers - medallists down one leg and non-medallists down the other. GB rowing families lurking, flags aloft. One rowing medallist's father is using an old boathook as a flagpole, while another's schoolmaster father has commandeered a Gatwick cleaner's mop to tie his famous Boer War Union flag to and is brandishing it high over the massed heads. Little boys scrambling through to the front, one father who's too far back to help just asking us 'look after him, will you?' in the atmosphere of goodwill.
Finally a cheer goes up and this time doesn't die down. They're coming out, and a knot of medallists gathers at the centre-exit, some holding video cameras to capture the unusual scene. Then Crackers walks down the corridor, followed by Ed and Steve, and suddenly a flood of team-members is coming through, stopping to sign autographs, be snapped, and hug friends. Teenage girls screaming "Amir!" as the baby boxer is ushered through, nearly invisible between huge minders. A big roar for Pinsent, beaming all over his face, then the 4x100 relay team, posing first one side then the other for the calling crowds. Finally the biggest yell of all - "Ke-lly, Ke-lly" - for double champion Holmes, who can barely stumble down the corridor, so many people want a piece of her, the two medals hung round her neck, one held in each fist.
The bemusement is for the GB non-medallists, ushered out the other way, and as we scurry off to catch the monorail train to the North Terminal for the press conference, it's unclear whether they left before or after the big names. Thinking of rowing's close B/semi finishes, the upsets early in the season, and the close friendships the medallists have with others in the team, it was a shame they couldn't have shared in the fun, especially as they either had to wait for the fuss to die down, or will have heard it all going on a few metres away down the hall as they walked away relatively unnoticed.
But round to the hotel for the media scrum, and Matt Pinsent puts that right as best he can, namechecking the whole of the rest of 'Team GB' as soon as he's offered the chance to speak. Good work. A hush first, as they're all snapped clustered together round the table for the newspapers, some idiot photographer telling them to 'say GB', which doesn't work nearly as well as 'say cheese'. Patient parents outside, BOA chef de mission Simon Clegg giving the stats and his by-now well-known positive view of the Athens venture, with more than a hint of 'I told you so'. Big names to represent the nine gold medals - Pinsent/Holmes/Khan/Ainslie and others - sit down at the table, their teams and colleagues clustered around behind.
Then the full-on feeding frenzy begins, with the usual inane press questions from all corners (Crackers and Pinsent sharing a joke, eyes rolling slightly, as the sillier ones are asked). A brief interruption while Jason Gardener's little daughter Molly turns up and has to do a baby photocall- a woman who looks she must be Gardener's wife sits down next to me as the cameras stop flashing, says Molly is five months old, and she's just sad the little girl won't remember this moment as she's too young. Matt nodding vehemently in agreement at Clegg's mention of how good the GB support and flag-waving was at all the venues.
Pinsent the first offering, as usual, and he's prepared a good statement on behalf of the whole team, including pointing out how good it feels to be a British sporting success in a year where Britain's been criticised so much in other areas (interestingly political). Says they're all proud to pull on the BOA/Olympic shirts, only topped by standing on the podium. Nice one-liner for the evening news-shows, that he feels right now he could go home and find his house burnt down and still be smiling. He's always been great at the pseudo-ad-libs. Delighted that the reception was bigger than for their return from Sydney, which puts it in perspective after I've been fielding calls from the Telegraph sports desk about 'there aren't very many people at the airport are there?'
Then Kelly Holmes being quizzed, saying she never expected in her wildest dreams to be coming back with two medals, let alone two golds. Calling the Olympic village 'Alcatraz', since she only left it to go to the venue. Talking of being worried for her mascara when she saw her mum for that first big hug, at the arrivals gate. Then Ben Ainslie, who is very funny about his early disqualification. "I started off the last couple of Olympics very badly, so I'd promised myself it would be different this time. Instead it was worse (wry smile). So I just had to come back and get the gold medal."
The 4x100 relay team, grinning at one end of the table. "Getting slated from all corners before the Games, that just drew us closer together than ever", says Campbell. Adds "Before the final, the other three said 'we think we can win this', and I just thought - 'that's crazy - but let's give it a try." Amir Khan repeating again that he wants Olympic gold above all else, and won't be turning professional until he's had a chance to go for it in Beijing in 2008.
Matt being asked if he's up for an open-top bus celebration in London (damn silly question - what's he supposed to say?) and replies "bring it on - but it's going to be difficult to get 43 diaries matched up." [The 43 bemuses me - surely it was 30? until an RS reader reminds me on Tuesday that some (eg M4-) were won by teams/crews... Stooopid Q.] Not sure he'll have that problem, when it's announced a few hours later that the Queen has invited them to the Palace first - I reckon the diaries might just miraculously clear up that day.... Redders hints to me later in the evening that it will probably be 18th September, as he's had a call asking him to keep that day free to be part of the celebrations. That's not official yet, though.
As I walk out, three of the cycling medallists, who are being whisked off to another flight, are stopped in their tracks in the corridor back to the terminal by a techno-granny and her husband, clutching a mobile phone triumphantly to snap the lads with medals around their necks.
Rachel Quarrell.