The Olympic Games might not be in Beijing this time round, but there is still an atmosphere of competition in China's capital. In the lead up, the main question centred on why Londoners didn't seem as excited about the games as Beijingers were back in 2008. As a Londoner living in Beijing right now, I was grilled as if I was an official spokesperson, expected to be able to answer what was being phrased as a shortcoming of my hometown.
Then the opening ceremony happened and the competition became fiercer. The post-mortem was mixed, with some praising it as "spectacular" and loving Britain's sense of humour, while others thought Beijing's was frankly better. My opinion was once again called upon. Was I happy with the ceremony? Did it make me feel proud? Did I think, heaven's forbid, that it had the edge on Beijing?!
At no point was the event judged in isolation. In an article in The Guardian on Saturday, leading Chinese artist Ai Weiwei, who helped design Beijing's Olympic Bird's Nest, did perhaps the strongest compare and contrast. "The Chinese ceremony had so much less information and it wasn't even real," commented Ai in one of his many damning phrases.
This battle seems particularly ironic in Beijing, the city that crowned the motto "One world, one dream" and plastered it across all its big tourist sites. Aren't we all supposed to get along and unite behind the Olympic spirit?
But then, who are we kidding? For all the talk and symbol of unity, in reality the Olympics are first and foremost a competition between nations, a battle over which country can win the most medals, and in this case, who can be a better host.
George Orwell, writing in 1945 in his article "The Sporting Spirit," described sports at the international level as "mimic warfare."
"Even if one didn't know from concrete examples (the 1936 Olympic Games, for instance) that international sporting contests lead to orgies of hatred, one could deduce it from general principles," he wrote.
Orwell makes a good point. International team sports breed a particular strain of nationalistic sentiment that can quickly go from pride to conflict. When you group people together, turn them into representations of their nation rather than just individuals and vet them against each other, blood is going to be drawn.
While Londoners and Beijingers fight over whose Olympics are better, the US has simultaneously been offended and offensive over their made-in-China uniforms and many Israelis are less than impressed by the Olympic Committee's decision to not commemorate Munich 1972. Add to that London's blunder over North Korea's national flag and mysteriously removing Taiwan's one, and you have a whole lot of hurt feelings going around, to say the least. Simply put, the Olympics are diplomatic minefields and minefields are explosive.
And yet in spite of this, there is room for unity. Most Beijingers are still very excited when I say that I am from London and their questions are more playful than hostile. At least superficially there is a bond between us, a sense that while we might be from different sides of the globe, we both know what it is like to host an Olympic Games.
After all, international events like the Olympics create a global dialogue and provide common reference points. Countries come out of their shells and connect with others and in so doing, we get to know a little bit more about everyone. Sometimes it is the good, sometimes it is the bad and sometimes it is the plain ugly, but at least it is something.
They are as much fun as they are games. Just don't forget who scooped the first gold medal at London 2012 - China.