
Zacharatos is spokesman for the Athens 2004 Organising Committee for the Olympics, better known by its Greek acronym of ATHOC and best identified by the face of its president, the attractive 49-year-old politician Gianna Angelopoulous-Daskalaki.
For ATHOC and, in particular, Angelopoulous-Daskalaki, the Olympics were quite a gamble from the time Athens won the bid in 1997. As the biggest event to come to the country in aeons — ‘‘Since the Trojan War’’, smirked a journalist — they could potentially fast-track the lady’s political career. Already, some see her as prime minister material.
That would be getting ahead of the story though. Greece’s principal challenge — and this is where Delhi 2010 comes in — was the perception was that it didn’t have the wherewithal and work ethic to pull off the Games. Most recent Olympics have been hosted by countries that want to showcase economic achievement — 1964 was Japan’s showpiece, as was 1988 for South Korea or will be 2008 for China. Even the Sydney Olympics came in the midst of an Australian boom.
In contrast, Greece is very much a B tier economy. As such, ATHOC, structured as a business corporation but owned entirely by the Greek government, has been buffeted by doubting Thomases from day one. ATHOC will be formally dissolved after its books close in March 2005. And, says Zacharatos, will be able to balance its budget of 1.962 billion euros.
That figure is only part of the price of the Games. The Greek government has spent 4.6 billion euros on infrastructure — stadia, 120 km of new roads, 90 km of upgraded roads, two new metro lines that now carry half a million people a day, a new airport, an environmental clean-up.
‘‘When I came here 10 years ago’’, says a visitor to the Games, ‘‘Athens was like a town with a great history. Now it feels like a metropolis.’’
So it does, but almost didn’t. Signs of construction are everywhere. New Athens is still a work in progress; the Games facilities were ready just in time, with days to go. At the opening ceremony, the good-humoured organizers even made a joke of the delays.
‘‘We faced the geographical challenge of Athens being surrounded by mountains’’, explains Zacharatos. ‘‘That meant the construction had to be in residential areas, already packed with four million citizens. Getting people to accept this was not easy. But I think we did it.’’
Certainly, as the Games approached, there was an enormous emotional churning in Greece. Even otherwise laidback people seemed to take ownership of the Games. ATHOC appeals to Athenians to use public transport rather than private cars while the Games were on have been respected.
In a city of chronic traffic jams, one lane of every major road has been set aside as the ‘‘Olympic Lane’’, reserved for vehicles ferrying athletes, officials and media-persons. Even at peak hour, commuters have respected the sanctity of the Olympic Lane.
Most of the 45,000 volunteers working gratis at the Games — there’ll be another 15,000 for the upcoming Paralympics — are Greek. Ordinary Athenians are going out of their way to help Olympic visitors, smiling gamely through the day, even at odd hours of the night.
There’s no doubt the public is proud the Olympics have ‘‘come home’’. ‘‘We needed the infrastructure’’, says Athens resident Kris Constantis, ‘‘the metro was spoken about for years. It could have taken another 10 years before someone got around to it. But it just got accelerated.’’
And Zacharatos points out that the infrastructure built for the Games will have a spillover benefit on Greek society.
Behind the good news lie harder questions. What will happen to the stadia? Will they become white elephants, as has happened elsewhere, including New Delhi after the 1982 Asian Games?
ATHOC doesn’t think so. Some of the staia, such as the ones for baseball and softball, will be torn down. The impressive Main Press Centre and International Broadcasting Centre — the combined media HQ of the Olympics — ‘‘will become exhibition centres’’. The beach volleyball stadium, minus the stands, will double as a seafront concert venue. The media village will become the office of the Greek Ministry of Education.
By one reckoning, the modern Olympics are a gigantic business machine. ‘‘These were the first Games after the European Monetary Union’’, explains Zacharatos. ‘‘That meant even if we had to tender for tables and chairs, we had to invite bids from all over Europe, not just companies in Greece. It all added to the bureaucracy.’’
When the Games end on August 29, Athens will empty out. This alarms computer salesman Adrea Violidi. ‘‘I like the idea of the Olympics. They have given jobs to tens of thousands. But what will these people do after the Games? It’s a worrying question.’’
ATHOC directly employs 4,500 people. Zacharatos says it is committed to helping them get further placements. In terms of indirect employment, 160,000 people have been put to work by the Games, in construction, technology, security and so on. Some of them will still have their jobs at the end of the month, moving to the next big project. Some of them won’t.
None of them, however, will ever forget the Athens Olympics.


