For
By Ian O'Riordan
Don't believe the hype. Whoever convinced the IOC heads that Sydney in September was going to be "sunny and sizzling" was bluffing. Big time. More like "shivering and sniffling". If any of our Irish athletes come back any more bronzed than when they left (medals excluded) then it's time for all of us to start taking our holidays in Donegal.
As for Homebush Bay, site of all those windy stadiums, it might be worth recalling that the area was once the world's worst dioxin dump. Remember Gulf War Syndrome? No one saw that coming, did they? And if you thought it sounded bad, just wait until you hear about Homebush Bay Syndrome.
All these reports of "smooth running transport" are also total myth. There's as much chance of catching a train out of the stadium after the 100 metres as there is of, well, catching the winner of the 100 metres. Atlanta, here we go again. Lost buses and crazy drivers. All charging exorbitant prices. Better chance of getting a taxi on College Street next New Year's Eve.
Against
By Keith Duggan
Why Sydney? Because it is Sydney. Darling Harbour, with its 160-acre spread of museums, eateries and shops which comfortably accommodates some 15 million visitors a year. And the sun always shines on them. Because with a cursory glance at three episodes of Home and Away and the purchase of a 12-pack of Fosters, you can claim intimate knowledge of the culture. Because Aussies, too, hate Will Carling.
Because they have Bondi Beach, which, on a good day has up to 60,000 visitors.
Because the Aussies had the guts to award the design of their performing arts centre to an unknown Danish architect, Jorn Utzon. We gave the world Busarus, Utzon gave it the Sydney Opera House.
And because the Sydney organisers are promising better games than ever before. Because they have initiated more stringent drug testing procedures. Because they based the design of Olympic Park on solar energy and recycled materials - and, of course, shelled roofs. Because you can say "fair dinkum" without feeling overly foolish.
Because you might, if you are lucky, bump into Alf from the Diner.
