Having been home a few days now from Delhi it strikes me that opinion about the recent Commonwealth Games has ranged from total indifference to rapt enjoyment, with many shades in between. Those who view it from the less favourable end would have you believe that Delhi represented the last rites to a dated concept. The optimists, on the other hand, would argue that these Games provided plenty of worthy spectator sport and brought a spicy variation to the modern formula of international, multi-sport competition. 

We all form a judgement of these things from our own distinctive vantage point and when it comes to an off-shore event, involving a range of sports, there are many positions from which to develop a picture. Ultimately, there is usually a convergence of opinion. Media coverage, whatever its overall flaws, manages to convey the particular spirit, and success or otherwise, of any Games. Delhi, though, seems to have been quite different in that regard. It's interesting to ponder why this may have been so. 

It may reflect, more than anything else, the diversity of Delhi's own response to its Games. For a start, within a city of more than half the population of Australia are many who had little interest in the fact that The Games were even on. Sporting competitions such as this are not for India's poor. A pre-Games trip to Old Delhi, for a cycle-rickshaw ride through the avenues and alleyways of the bottom end of town, revealed life a world-apart from the indulgence offered by sport. I'm sure many there would not have even heard of the Commonwealth Games. That's not the fault of the Organising Committee or anyone else associated with the event; it is merely a fact of Indian life. 

Then there were the Games-related issues of disorganisation, alleged corruption, and the threat of terrorism. If these created cynicism and tension among Delhi-ites, it's hardly surprising. All three may have contributed to poor crowds in the early days of competition. The last of them, the concern at possible terrorism, was undoubtedly responsible for the limitation placed on crowds for the road events, both cycling and athletic, which usually take a Games to the people. Had normal access to marathons, walks and road cycling been permitted, control over security would have been seriously compromised. These events lost some of their soul as a result, but who could argue with such a safety-first policy being implemented? 

There were also serious problems, it seems, with ticketing. People didn't know how to get their hands on them and, if and when they did, they weren't well placed to get to their preferred venue.  For those of us from a country like ours, involving an event of stature that had years of lead-up time, this is impossible to comprehend. Yet much of India is, to us, difficult to understand. 

For all of this, however, it was hard not to feel that as the days wore on Delhi grew to love and feel proud of its Commonwealth Games. The media there gave them comprehensive coverage, both in sporting and news terms. By the end the crowds had grown appreciably. 

As a visitor with a particular and privileged role, it is impossible not to be subjective and biased. Just being at such an event, in an unfamiliar and vibrant environment, is an enormous buzz. Working with a team in the electronic media brings a sense of fraternity rare in life. Yet, for all these caveats, I can say this: having covered a total of 12 Commonwealth and Olympic Games, I haven't enjoyed one more than Delhi's. 

India is a unique experience. It assaults the senses. Its heat, humidity, smog, and smells take their toll. Its food, for better or worse, quickly makes its mark. Its heaving masses of people both delight and infuriate. In a country with 60-times Australia's population you see the very best and the absolute worst of life. 

It was a wonderful thing that such an event was taken to such a country. If the 2010 Commonwealth Games in Delhi inspire some of the young, within the second most populous nation on earth, to broaden their sporting interests beyond India's almost unilateral fixation with cricket, they will have served a worthy purpose. Perhaps it might even one day be said that not only did 2010 not mark the end of the Commonwealth Games, but that the event marked a watershed in the history of a mighty sporting nation.