Until Alexandre Bilodeau snared the gold, I didn’t give a damn about the Olympics. Went out of my way to avoid advance hype, missed the famously un-French opening on purpose.

Catching Bilodeau’s exuberant smile splashed across every newspaper’s front page brought on a quick, unexpected gush of pride. To be honest, I felt like crying. I suddenly realised how totally fed up I am with the culture of failure, the whinging, the ersatz modesty, the willingness of Canadians to settle for whatever we can get. To pretend that public recognition for talent is somehow shallow, success and winning don’t really matter. It’s how you play the game, right?

Well, winning is pretty good.

Living next to an empire culture that defines success as its highest value, the twin rewards of money and fame virtually the only goal worth fighting for, we can perhaps be forgiven for … there I go, making excuses. How Canadian.

Let me rephrase myself: it was downright awesome to see Alexandre Bilodeau – one of our own, a Quebecer – win that first-ever gold on home turf. By the time West Van’s Maelle Ricker snagged a gold for snowboarding, I’d started tuning in nightly. Doesn’t matter who’s up, I channel hop and hold my breath as athletes from anywhere put themselves to the test. The expression on their faces as they give their all is exhilarating.

Since the atmosphere of competition grabbed me, I’ve been unable to resist the personal narratives, so carefully mined by the hordes of journalists on hand to cover the games: Canada’s third gold medal winner Christine Nesbitt, a girl who was sure she couldn’t – the quintessential Canadian.

Catch me on a normal day and I’ll readily argue against the testosterone fix spectator sport relies on for lubrication. Bread and circuses to be sure. Pro sport is mainly about money. The Olympics are hugely expensive, giving many people with a chance to make serious money and handing taxpayers a substantial part of the bill. There are sound arguments for not getting involved in the first place. But this isn’t the time to make them.

The Olympics are here, and Canada is doing very well.

Vancouver is taking incredible abuse, but my guess is that when it’s all over, the bad blood stirred up by feverish media attention will not be what goes down in history. This event is a defining moment for Canada, though not a ‘nation-building’ moment. Those days are gone. We are who we are: a sea to sea collection of great cities, vibrant economies, natural beauties, historically rooted neuroses.

Let’s not make of the Olympics either more or less than what they are: a festival of supreme exertion, a chance to enjoy vicarious thrills. No need to project some complex political agenda on the deeper meaning, intentions or organisational details.

For once, let’s just enjoy success.