WHEN Eunice Kennedy Shriver founded the Special Olympics movement, her aims were lofty. More than 40 years later, they have been exceeded by a considerable degree.
In July, the latest gathering of the clan will commence at Celtic Park, which will be transformed into the ultimate field of dreams for about 2,500 participants from various parts of the United Kingdom.
Such is the scale of the event that an army
of 1,500 volunteers have been assembled, with organisations as diverse as Strathclyde Police cadets and B&Q contributing personnel to the venture. "Trying to get to sponsors, the media, companies and the great and the good on board was the first priority," said Gordon McCormack, Games director.
A priority is a hole stretching to £450,000 in the £3.2m budget, which must be filled in if an unwelcome legacy is not to be left behind.
"We're getting there," said McCormack, who has just six full-time staff in his team. "We've a national raffle. New sponsors are coming in every day. It will be tight. But I'm proud of the way that the City of Glasgow is underwriting the Games up to £1m, and that's of huge assistance to us.
"We received a cheque in for £600 from a lady of 95 years old, celebrating her birthday. She insisted that no-one give her a present, and they give us the money instead. Where did that old lady find out about us? It's fantastic. And that's not an isolated happening.
"We were out at Celtic Park one night to measure out the opening, and I told the volunteers that they should look behind them all the time on July 2 to see the faces of the athletes: to see how they perceive the occasion. They're marching out to represent their UK region, and their families, in an opening ceremony. That's something special."
In 1990, the European Special Olympics were held within Strathclyde, with Kennedy Shriver an honoured guest. One of the organisers of that gathering recalls: "The thing I remember most was the enjoyment factor around the participants. But it didn't really capture the public's imagination."
Disability competition has emerged since then, and most credit for that goes to the Paralympics which have, partially at least, dispelled the notion that sporting excellence is solely a function of the perceived human idyll. However, beyond those with an emotional attachment, will anyone really care this time?
"The general public have moved on, I think," said McCormack. "In 1990 we got the media to get behind the Games, and stop patronising it. That was a success for us. Since then, we've fallen out of the public eye, and that happens.
"We've now secured Celtic Park for the opening ceremony. We've got acts like Texas to play at it and create that atmosphere around it which will feed into the Games. Hopefully, that will encourage football fans to think: 'Let's go and see the football competition.' Or golfers to watch the golf events, maybe because they've heard Colin Montgomerie is involved.
"We have a lot of work to do. The public may not come out in their thousands. But they might."
That would be validation. Yet while ticket sales among the 23 sports have been described as steady, in particular to the scores of proud parents and coaches who will arrive in support, to stress bums on seats would be to miss the point of the extravaganza.
McCormack pointed to achieving a greater understanding of support for people with disability, plus a greater equality of lifestyle.
"You can use all the buzz words surrounding healthy living. But there are lots of people within the system who cannot access sport and recreation. We have to use this new voluntary base and this awareness to give them opportunities. The social aspect is important.
"Many of these athletes don't get to go out at night. We need to provide them with outlets. What better way to do that than through sport?"
Or more special.
