An A to Z of an unforgettable 11 days in Glasgow when the sun shone (mostly) and the Scottish medals rained down.
* A is for Anthem (the English one). I actually quite like Jerusalem, but in four years’ time it might be an idea for the Team England to brush up on the words. Either that, or do a Daley Thompson and whistle.
* B is for Bus drivers. Two of them. The one who turned what should have been a 15-minute journey from the media centre to the velodrome into a 45-minute tour of the back streets of Glasgow, and had to stop and ask for directions. And another who shoved a Clyde-sider volunteer off our bus, with an invitation to see him later that night (not for a cosy meal for two, I suspect).
* C is for Cram. Steve Cram’s commentating at the curling in the winter Olympics was cringeworthy, but track and field should have been safer territory. It wasn’t. At the start of the 1,500m final, saying Laura Muir was from Glasgow must have provoked a few expletives in Milnathort living rooms, as would his failure to notice the clip on her ankle on the last bend that ended her medal hopes. Cram coaches one of the athletes in that final (as the BBC team never tired of telling us) and shouldn’t have been calling the race. Not good enough.
* D is for Depth. As in, out of their. Impressive as Alex Marshall and Paul Foster were in winning gold in the men’s pairs, bookies would have been checking for betting patterns after seeing what their Malaysian opponents produced in the most one-sided final of the Games.
* E is for England. Not sure if we can take any referendum implications out of this, but the appreciation of English athletes by the local crowds, even when up against a Scottish medal contender (the women’s par-cycling being a good example) was a credit to Glasgow and Scotland.
* F is for Freedom. We haven’t heard the last of Braveheart swimmer Dan Wallace. He wasn’t the pre-Games poster boy (see K below) but he’s revelling in his new-found limelight. Just hold it in, next time nature calls and you’re near a police car though Dan.
* G is for Glasgow (and Gallus). I shared the doubts about transport and access, and possibly even the quality of sport, but from the first day those were allayed. The Games have been an unmitigated triumph. And the gallus award was a close run thing between two Motherwell boxers. Both Reece McFadden and Charlie Flynn gave us enough one-liners to last the next four years, but Flynn wins a split decision with his description of the SSE Hydro crowd on finals’ day. “They were ants that sounded like lions.” Shankly-esque.
* H is for Handover. The Jamaican 4x100m relay team should have been made to carry the Queen’s Baton round the track to give the rest a chance.
* I is for Iron. As in, strike when it’s hot and turn professional. Holding on for Rio is a nice idea, but there’s no guarantee our medal-winning will even make Team GB for the Olympics. Their profiles will never be higher than they are now. A good manager will progress their careers at the right pace and fill the void that Ricky Burns’ demise has created by selling out venues. Time to cash in boys.
* J is for Judo (and Jinx). As the medals started piling up for Scotland in the SECC’s hall three I thought it was about time I checked out what all the fuss was about, saw one of our team lose, and thought I’d better leave well alone in future. Apologies to Patrick Dawson for putting the mockers on him.
* K is for Keep it shut. What possessed Michael Jamieson to start talking about world record times a couple of days before the 200m breaststroke? Only the real greats are allowed that luxury, and a collection of major championship silver medals doesn’t make Jamieson one of those.
* L is for Learmonth. If one man personified how to embrace the challenge of a home Games it was the 800m runner. He was inspired in the months building up to it, raised his game in the company of genuine world class athletes, David Rudisha and Nijel Amos, and didn’t feel afraid to challenge them. “If I die, I die” was his pre-final mantra. Thankfully, he didn’t.
* M is for Mid-way point. British Cycling peaks every four years, not every two. So don’t panic about Australian superiority in a number of high profile events at the velodrome. Expect Kenny, Trott, Varnish, Wiggins and others to be back on top in Rio.
* N is for Northern Ireland. Precious few medals, and virtually all of them in the boxing ring. If Belfast ever bids for the Games, expect golf to find its way on to the programme.
* O is for Oz. The Games now move back to Australia, and you can be sure they’ll be in safe hands given their pedigree with the Sydney Olympics and Melbourne Commonwealth Games. You do wonder who will be able to bid for future events though. The scale and cost isn’t what it used to be.
* P is for Pilot. The Courier went to great lengths to discover who was the bigger factor on a para tandem (I spoke to somebody who knows). Neil Fachie deserved his two golds of course, but let’s just say that pilot MacLean had quite a bit to do with it.
* Q is for Quit. Granted, my interest in judo only peaks when the sport comes into the mainstream, but the ease with which Euan Burton won his gold medal would suggest to me that he might have called it a day too early. Rio isn’t that far away. Could I suggest another comeback?
* R is for Rutherford . I’ve always felt sorry for Greg Rutherford (as much as you can feel sorry for anyone who has won an Olympic gold medal). He’s the Fifth Beatle of London’s Super Saturday, and it was nice to see one of the good guys back on top.
* S is for Sevens. You can make the shirt a lighter shade of blue, play with eight less players and put them into a football stadium. No difference. We’re still awful at rugby.
* T is for Tennis. It was one of the organisers’ few mistakes not to include it in the programme. Scotland deserved to see Andy Murray in a proper tournament. There will never be another chance.
* U is for Usain. Everybody knew he was here for his sponsors and the relay was a token gesture. It was still an “I was there” moment when he stepped on the track at Hampden on Friday night though.
* V is for Vomit. I’ve never seen a group of reporters look as nervous as when Katie Archibald asked the press officer for a sick-bag while we were leaning on a railing speaking to the cyclist after she had won her bronze medal. An expenses bill for dry cleaning would have been a first.
* W is for Withdrawal symptoms. 13 races in six days, and seven finals. How is Hannah Miley going to cope with life after Glasgow? Come to think of it, I might have a few post-Games withdrawal symptoms of my own.
* X is for X Factor. If Erraid Davies can sing, get her on. Simon Cowell will love her.
* Y is for Yodelling. I was surprised not to hear any at Cathkin Braes for the mountain biking. The locals did everything else to turn the place into a Swiss mountain range for the day. Thankfully the din of cow bells hasn’t brought on tinnitus yet.
* Z is for Zamdam. It’s a great Commonwealth Games athlete’s name, but not as good as Valentino Bon Jovi Bong.