Inside the Maracana Stadium during the Rio Olympic opening ceremony

WHY this Olympic reporter had had enough of the Rio opening ceremony before Canada even walked in. Not everyone’s fallen in love with The Games.

Quite a show.

THE atmosphere in the Maracana was buzzing as the minutes counted down to the official opening of the 2016 Olympics.

We’d had the fear of God put in us by media officials about fighting traffic on the 45-minute journey across town to the stadium so arrived almost three hours before kick-off.

I killed time chatting to a bloke from Melbourne who had been living in Rio since December last year helping with preparations for the ceremony. They’d completed around 23 dry runs — including three inside the 79,000-seat stadium — and he was confident everything would go off without a hitch.

As I walked to my seat I saw the tricycles which would lead each nation out lined up in a row. It was a slight concern to see Australia in between Aruba and Azerbaijan (where was Austria?) but I had faith in Brazil’s ability to put on a party.

There’s no better way to warm up a crowd of people than a Kiss Cam followed by a Mexican wave and soon we were off.

For the foreigners in the stadium — of which there were many — it would have been hard to make sense of the 45-minute production.

Without the help of a handy media guide they may not have guessed those shiny sheets of metallic paper represented waves — and Brazil’s ability to make something great out of nothing.

Like me, they may not have known African slaves were brought to Brazil against their will for 400 years and missed this representation when men trudging in chains entered the arena.

But there’s no doubt they would have been equally spellbound when supermodel Gisele Bundchen cat-walked her way into the world’s heart. Beauty like that can be appreciated by anyone — and Daniel Jobim’s accompanying rendition of the “Girl From Ipanema” only added to what was the high point of my night.

The athletic procession.

Some of the dancers and acrobats were worth watching too but I found myself tuning out a bit when the young boy filling the Nikki Webster role started wandering around in a maze of mirrors.

But then it was time for the introduction of the athletes and after loud cheers for traditional opening act Greece and a group of competitors I’d never heard of (am I naive not to know the Independent Nation of Athletes?) it was time for Australia.

Only about a quarter were on hand because of the disruption the ceremony causes to athletic preparation but it was cool to see a girl who has spent a large portion of her life in my hometown of Adelaide lead our country out.

A young newspaper reporter from Hong Kong sitting beside me revealed Anna Meares stood in the way of her country’s best chance of winning just it’s fourth Olympic medal. But this was a moment to be a proud Aussie and I told her I hoped Wai Sze Lee choked on Anna’s dust.

But from there the procession started to get mundane. After 20 more minutes we were still in the Bs – and as Canada rolled in to a huge ovation, I tapped out.

Blame Canada.

I felt a little guilty weaving my way out between lines of gun-wielding soldiers on one of world sport’s banner occasions but knowing I could make it back to our office in the media centre in 45 minutes instead of double that if I had to fight traffic was irresistible.

There was an unexpected treat a few hundred metres from the stadium too as I stumbled on a game of street soccer being played under lights. These guys might not have been able to help their home nation break a 0-0 deadlock with South Africa the night before but they were a world apart from the team I played with on a Wednesday night in Sydney last year and it was fun to watch these bare-footed bandidos do their thing.

Their interest in one of the biggest moments in their city’s history was even less than mine but for some the Olympics is about what happens on the field, the track and in the pool — and for the next three weeks I won’t be leaving anything early.

Oh, and the guy who was attacked by a spectator midway through the marathon in Athens in 2004, Vanderlei Lima, lit the flame because Pele was sick. Despite encountering a roadblock I still made it back to the office an hour before Gustavo Kuerten handed him the torch.