A citizen of the host country lights the Olympic flame.
In this mornings The Australian, contained the facts. The source is at:
http://www.theaustralia.com.au
Cathy's blaze of glory
By Matt Price and Deborah Hope
16sep00
IN the end, it had to be Cathy, literally walking on water.
Despite several nervous minutes when the giant cauldron refused to budge, leaving the world and Cathy Freeman on tenterhooks, the 2000 Olympic opening was a triumph.
The 400m world champion appeared to be out of the running for the honour of lighting the cauldron after she had marched with her team-mates.
Legendary Australian athletes, with Olympic memories stretching back five decades, had delivered the torch to the foot of the cauldron; Herb, Dawn, Shirley, Shane, Debbie and, most poignantly, Raelene pushing Betty.
And then Freeman, competing in her third Olympics, completed both the circle and the ceremony, which IOC president Juan Antonio Samaranch described as the most beautiful he had ever seen.
Dressed in a striking white full-length bodysuit, Freeman accepted the torch from Debbie Flintoff-King and ascended the stairs, confronted by a spectacular waterfall, which submerged the route to the top of the northern stand.
The massive cauldron emerged through a pool of water, and then for a moment completely surrounded the 27-year-old Aboriginal runner.
But it appeared to stall, leaving Freeman holding the torch skywards as the massive crowd held its breath. And on the balcony outside the control room, the creative team stood in stunned silence.
Artistic director David Atkins was said to be distraught over the glitch and director of ceremonies Ric Birch said after the ceremony: "What a bummer after such a great night."
The cauldron had worked without a hitch during a secret test at 3.30am yesterday but last night, as well as jamming, the full burner kicked in too early. Technical staff will find out the problem today.
The cauldron's eventual rise triggered mass sighs of relief around the nation.
Earlier, during those magical minutes when the golden haired girl in the pink floral dress found herself suspended high above Olympic Stadium, flirting with and fleeing from an assortment of surreal sea-life, you knew that Sydney schoolgirl Nikki Webster would be the superstar of the Opening Ceremony.
And then, as Hero Girl swayed and spun and fended off giant jellyfish and flying stingrays, came the moment you also knew Ric Birch had picked the mood perfectly.
Up popped maniacal swimming coach Lawrie Lawrence on the giant video screen, shrieking at Nikki to swim faster and faster. What must international audiences have thought of this eccentric interlude? Frankly, who cares.
Whenever this sublime opening threatened to venture towards pretension or self-importance, Birch and Atkins and their team expertly contrived to puncture the moment with wit and irreverence. It was knowing, often subtle, and quintessentially Australian.
So was the politely muted reception afforded Olympics Minister Michael Knight, which came as the echoes of the rousing and emotional welcome for the Australian athletes were still wafting into the night air.
Led by a gleeful Andrew Gaze, the 505 strong contingent stretched 300m around the track, hurtling rubber boxing kangaroos into the riotous crowd.
It was practically the only marsupial spotted all night, as Birch, unlike Antonio Samaranch ("Guh'day Syd-er-ney, Guh'day Australia") steered clear of the obvious.
Instead, he took practically all of our national idiosyncracies – from rain water tanks and corrugated iron dunnies to lawnmowers and zinc cream (though not, it should be noted, kangaroos on bicycles) and wove them seamlessly into his tapestry.
Djakapurra Munyarryun's in the night's best supporting role, steering Nikki through her mystical dream journey, ensured Aboriginal art and culture remained central to the ceremony.
Perhaps a handful of people in the stadium last night could name a Julie Anthony tune, yet none of the 110,000 present will ever forget her belting out of the national anthem. If armies of giant goosebumps didn't launch a mass invasion over your entire body during the final verse, you haven't got blood in your veins.
John and Olivia were just a wee bit corny, but can you imagine Powderfinger walking the length of the stadium, acknowledging athletes without missing a beat? I don't think so.
To paraphrase another famously middle-of-the-road Australian, anyone who didn't enjoy last night is a bum.
Birch, the maligned genius, has fashioned a performance our athletes can only dream of imitating over the next 15 days.
It was a privilege to be there.
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John Cottingham
