An Apology.... I'm really really sorry...

It takes a great man to admit he was wrong. And it takes a greater man to hold his hands up and apologise.

Today, that man is me.

Humble pie is on the menu.

Against the odds and after my comments and feelings over the past seven years I have to admit that I am absolutely bloody well loving the London Olympics!

There, I said it.

I, Keith Jacobsen, am actually enjoying the Olympics.

Not too long ago I wanted to avoid everything to do with the games. Even the thought of the torch relay made me shudder and think "oh for fu......"

I would dread the morning job sheet coming out just in case it was anything to do with torches, athletes or Sebastian Coe.

Then it happened. I was sent to Chester for the torch relay. I ran with Beth Tweddle while she carried the torch. I say "ran" but it was more of a wobbly, wheezy, sweaty jog with a large camera and ruck sack. Someone in the crowd that lined the route shouted encouragement at me "try and keep up you fat bastard!" but I genuinely had quite good fun.

Perhaps this was just a one off? Euphoria from the heat maybe? Or the blood trying to make my head and heart burst open...?

Then the torch relay reached my home town, Liverpool. Something strange started to happen. I wanted to go and cover the story. I actually did a little jump for joy when I got sent on the torch relay that day.

Yes, I did give it back... 

I was beginning to get Olympic fever. OMG!

The Torch Special programme that we did from Liverpool on BBC1 was absolutely fantastic - even if I did say so myself. The sun was shining, the crowds were out en masse and the shot of the programme came from my friend Martyn Souter who was doing Steadicam on the Mersey Ferry. He followed the torch bearer, a local bloke called Craig Lundberg - a former soldier who was blinded and seriously injured by an RPG attack whilst serving in Iraq.

Nothing else needs to be said...

I found myself overcome with emotion. I was so proud of this brave guy, so proud that my city turned out in force to cheer him on and incredibly proud of our production. Martyn - you nailed it matey! Scousers - you're always the best! And Craig - you definitely deserved the applause. You are an inspiration and have certainly made me have a better outlook on life.

Asked what he was going to do with his torch he replied, in typical Scouse wit, "Well I can't see on my mantle piece can I, so I 'm going to give it to Liverpool museum so Liverpool people can see it". Class.

Then the torch left on the rest of it's trip round the country and my Olympic fever began to die down. Phew... not as soft as shite as I thought.  

I got back to normal jobs, nothing to do with Olympics or torches. Murders, accidents, court cases - the usual daily helping of television news. Olympic accrediations were applied for, rotas drawn up and I managed to keep my head down and not get asked to go to that there London. Woo hoo!

Then last Thursday my programme editor collared me and begged me to go to London and shoot/edit a piece about the Mens Cycle Road Race - one Mr M. Cavandish lives in our patch. I groaned. I didn't think I'd get accreditation in time so I agreed. 

I did get accredited. 

Shit. 

While the entire population of the world settled down to watch the opening ceremony I drove down the M1 to London. I got to my hotel in Elstree just in time to see the torch being lit and Paul McCartney murder Hey Jude. "Hmmm" I thought.. "no celebs lighting it... that makes a change."

Sleep, then next morning off to London - still not knowing where I was going to be filming. Then the call came. 

"You want me to film where??" I stammered. 

If you're going to have a live point, you may as well have a good one!

I was outside Buckingham Palace, with accreditation and a free Oyster card loaded with £90 worth of credit on it. Thanks Boris!

My reporter was Andy Johnson and we were right in the middle of the Manx Massive - all cheering on for Mark Cavandish. What was that feeling? Olympic fever started to build up again. 

The changing of the guard happened - you could tell the foreigners and the Brits. The foreigners all dashed for the front gates of Buck House to snap pictures of the guards. The Brits just looked over the top of their copies of the Independent (other broadsheets available), smiled and went back to reading! 

The guards were AM-AZ-ING... they played the theme to Chariots of Fire while they marched in slow motion. Brilliant! Then as they got into the Palace they played the James Bond theme and Goldfinger! I was welling up again. This is my country! A wave of patriotism washed over me and something clicked. 

I completely 'got' what London 2012 was all about and why it was so hotly anticipated.

Hard at work! Picture taken by my friend, ITN cameraman Mark Nelson

It wasn't a chore anymore. It was an 'experience' and I can tell my children that I was there. I was outside the Palace with Andy for 6 hours waiting for what would hopefully be the first of the many gold medals in OUR Olympics. I had my Olympic app running keeping up to date with every last moment of the race.

It wasn't to be. I was gutted for the guys. I was gutted for the Manx Massive. Their kids were disappointed but they seemed to have had a really good day. Everyone did. That was sport. Some you win, some you lose.

The patriotism surged through me. 

I was hooked. I began to regret all the negativity that I spouted since London won the bid. I still think Lord Coe is a tit and Jeremy Hunt is a bell end (literally - check out YouTube), but I had an amazing time with the people of the world. 

with reporter, Andy Johnson

I have been glued to the coverage ever since. I cheer for Team GB. I screamed at the monitor in the edit suite when Gemma Gibbons was in the final of the Judo, although not as loud as the "lady" in the edit suite next to me who was heard to yell "kick her fucking head in Gemma!". 

Our (the BBC) coverage has been brilliant. Well done to every single operator on every single OB. Not all of it was perfect - I don't think anyone expects it to be 100% perfect, but bloody hell, how many cameras and how much live telly are we doing? Credit where its due.

I am now looking forward to taking up cycling again, I may even get a shotgun and start shooting and if Rebecca Addlington would teach me to swim (please...!! x) I would take up that AND canoeing too!

I get it. This is pure, real sport. All these guys and girls are there to take part in their chosen events. They're not there because of contractual necessity, the large pay packet or the prize money (none of either). They are there because they are the best of the best in their country and want to win the ultimate accolade of being an Olympic World Champion. I salute you all and I am so very pleased that you have succeeded in reaching the game of your lives, in your own country and for some of you, your home city.

So, Premiership footballers who are tweeting your support for Team GB  - here's a challenge. Why not donate one week of your obscenely large pay packet to a young British athlete? It's means an incredibly tacky bit of jewellery or a stupid big car to you, but to them it would pay for 6 months training. They wouldn't have to spend time trying to raise sponsorship to get to heats or to buy time in training facilities.

Just imagine if they could just concentrate on the training, not worrying how they are going to pay for the trip to an event or if they can afford a new pair of trainers and become even better than they are at these games. Imagine Team GB at the TOP of the medals table. Messers Rooney, Terry, Lampard et el... you could help achieve that.

But I doubt you have the balls to do that, do you?