Flashes of Panic

So if I’m a “sport-specific journalist”, what was I doing in the media seats at the archery venue?

It turns out that unless the event is “ticketed” (think finals of marquee sports like the morning sessions of swimming) the access control is relatively loose. Rather than looking closely at the sport blocks on our passes—mine says “AT” for Athletics—they just look for the number which denotes level of access. I have a 4, which is the print media number at all venues. (5 is broadcaster, which is a higher level of access; the others are in different classes altogether.) Unrestricted media have a infinity symbol for the sport listing.

So as long as nobody is looking closely to see my AT, I can get in most venues. We’ll see what I have time for in the next week; I’m pretty exhausted already and today’s between-sessions time may just involve a nap.

There’s another advantage to the credential: when entering the “OCD”, credential code for the Olympic Green, there are generally long, long lines. When we leave our hotel in the morning, the line already passes the hotel door and extends up the street out of sight. But we obnoxiously walk up to the front of the line, wave credentials at the volunteers at the gate, and are waved through to a “fast lane” of security checking. I try not to look back at the faces of the people we’re passing as they stand in the sun waiting.

An official in our hotel referred to his credentials as his “Get out of jail free card.” No wonder they’re so careful about who gets them.

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