Shortly after nine o'clock on Saturday night you could hear the gentle pitter patter, all across Britain.
It's been a dreadfully wet summer, but was there any need for this mass precipitation, as tear ducts country-wide filled to bursting point and broke their banks? It seemed no amount of blinking, sniffing or dabbing could hold them back. One might as well ask a ravenous infant to quit bawling as expect the Olympic audiences, and the athletes themselves, to keep the floodgates shut.
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