2011/2012 – Through Thick and Thin – Part 2 (2012)

By Nick Powell
From the end of January to the beginning of March, in anticipation of my 20th birthday and acceptance that professional sport is well and truly beyond me, I’m looking back through my 20 years to find the sporting memories that have had the biggest impact on me.

In this article I complete the two best years of my life as a sports fan, in a year where my teams, and athletes I supported, couldn't stop winning.

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2011/2012 – Through Thick and Thin – Part 2 (2012)

2011 had been surreal for me as a sports fan. Finally I was beginning to see teams I supported have success. 

But, as much as I was getting a taste for success, it was a mere starter for the following year. 

2011 had been great but Harlequins had won a secondary competition in Europe, and whilst Andy Murray and Lee Westwood (my favourite tennis player and golfer respectively) had had decent years, majors still alluded them. England had won the Six Nations, but not won a grand slam. 

I had been given a taste of what it could be like to support winners, but not enough to leave me truly satisfied. 

So it was with great excitement that a new year that saw Harlequins flying high, 10 points clear in the Premiership, wounded England two from two in the Six Nations, Murray had taken the then-indestructible Novak Djokovic to five in Australia and preparations were going well for Bradley Wiggins' Tour de France bid.

Even my School rugby team was winning, mainly because of one player named Harry Grant who we would give the ball and watch run round the opposition. To my amazement I  shared the Rugby Cup with him at the end of the year (to this day I have no idea how he didn't win it on his own).

Alas, Murray's year seemed to be fizzling out after a quarter-final exit at the French Open and 1st round exit at Queen's, England were beaten to a grand-slam by Wales in agonising fashion and Quins started losing games. 

When they lost to Leicester at home, just a fortnight before the Premiership play-off's commenced I thought they'd had it. They would hold on to top the table, but trailed 15-23 with 7 minutes remaining in their semi-final match against Northampton Saints. 

I exhaled, and looked to the sky. The dream of a team that had stumbled upon the classier section of the table, in large part because the World Cup and Six Nations had carved apart the other top teams' squads, was in ruins. 

I had not conceded. Having seen their extraordinary last minute win the year before I had not given up. That stood up in my mind, in the face of all the crushing disappointments that I'd have with many of my teams before, as a beacon of hope. 

At this point I can almost hear the thoughts in the reader's head, questioning why on earth I took all of this so seriously, but having followed Harlequins for seven years, through bloodgate and two home knockout stages defeats, in that moment it meant everything to me. 

Quins were back within a score after a Nick Evans penalty but still trailed by five when he put the ball in the corner late on to go for the victory.

The result was a driving maul, the ball went the back, the backs joined in and Quins prop Joe Marler emerged last from a pit of bodies when it collapsed. Fortunately he happened to be over the line and holding the ball. 

This game remains the most exciting end to a game of rugby I've ever seen

It was a special moment, somewhat dampened by the fact I couldn't spend it with my brother, who was away, but special to share with my Dad. He had got the season tickets and merchandise which had made me such an avid fan and he was just as desperate for victory as I had been. 

Sweet Caroline and Rockin' All Over the World (or in this case, Ruckin'), blared out over the speakers at the stadium as we celebrated like we had already won the thing. 

Being a statistical freak, it pains me to indulge in chronological deviancy. Nevertheless before I jump to the dramatic Final I'll look back at all the other highlights of the year, as the former would make for a nice finish. 

As mentioned Bradley Wiggins was racking up pre-Tour victories and was just 6 seconds back after the Prologue of the 2012 edition. 

As soon as the riders hit the mountains, Wiggins surged to the top of the rankings and in a rather boring way it was where he would stay, with little-known teammate Chris Froome in second place, whatever became of him?

But that didn't make a Brit riding through the finish line at the Champs-Elysees any less special. I had followed every stage of Le Tour religiously, read books about Sky (and I NEVER read books), and was so excited. 

No-one gave Sky a chance of winning the Tour within the five years they said they would in 2010, and they'd done it in less than half that time. A few TUE scandals later and the British team's greatness has diminished in many's eyes, but there's no doubt they've done a hell of a lot for cycling in the UK from the once-a-month leisure rider to the very top pros. 

Wiggins went on to become Britain's record Olympic gold medallist weeks after he clinched the Maillot Jaune 

Meanwhile at SW19, Andy Murray was putting together something of a run. Sure, all his most threatening opponents had found creative ways to fall out in the earlier rounds, but he overcame some tough opponents to join Roger Federer in the final. 

Unfortunately for the Scot, he would be beaten in that final, but got his revenge with Olympic Victory on the very same court before he won the US Open later that year. 

Most notable of Murray's year was the way in which he went from hated to loved, by simply showing emotion. 

In more ways than one, Murray's defeat in the 2012 Wimbledon Final changed his career for the better

Most reasonable people I knew hated Murray, but when he cried it all changed. As he struggled to the end of the speech, acknowledging the crowd, the English public decided to forgive him for a throwaway joke in 2006. I've since never seen public opinion shift so unexpectedly, well, until 2016...

The stand-out from that Summer however was our home Olympics, and being part of it. 

I missed Super Saturday, but would make sure I didn't miss many more of the 29 golds GB won, the highlight of which was watching Bradley Wiggins' triumphant ride through Bushy Park from just a few metres away. 

I appreciated it, but probably didn't appreciate it as much as I would do nowadays. I hope that we'll see a few more in the UK in my lifetime, but given our difference in popularity between 2012 and now I concede that I'll probably have to be patient. 

Such was the feel-good nature of that year that even watching Chelsea win the Champions League didn't fill me with the typical hatred for English teams' success. That might have been because I watched it with a Chelsea fan, but I was genuinely happy to see them get their hands on the trophy at last, even if it meant they'd now won one more than me, and Arsenal. 

A week after that was the big day. Harlequins vs Leicester. The Tigers headed in as favourites, having won 16 out of their last 17 League games, including an away triumph over Harlequins just three games before. 

It was a sweltering day in Twickenham and an unbelievable atmosphere. The noise level was like nothing I'd ever experienced at a rugby match, and being just 300m away from Quins' home, they had the larger contingent of fans. 

Temperatures reached 28 degrees celsius, which perfectly suited Quins' offloading style of rugby 

It was a ding dong battle, but by no means a typical final. The third quarter saw Quins pull away though, when Chris Robshaw crashed over for a 12 point lead with 20 minutes to go, my dad admitted he was on the verge of fainting with excitement (exacerbated by a hangover I've been informed by my brother).

With 13 minutes remaining, Quins went 17 points clear and although Leicester mounted a heroic late fightback, much like their entire season, they fell agonisingly short and we could start celebrating. 

Quins have yet to win another League title since (or any real silverware for that matter), which makes it all the more amusing when I look back to that evening, and talking to my brother about how we were about to go on an incredible run of success. 

But 2012 will always sit in my memory as a year where I was incredibly lucky to be a sports fan. With Quins still sitting top, Arsenal having got their act together, Murray now a grand-slam champion and Team GB having done the UK so proud in the Olympics, I could be forgiven for thinking this was going to last forever. 

It didn't, but the memory lives on.