There were millions of words used to tell the stories of the 2010 Winter Olympics, but the best place to look for the truth was John Furlong's face. As the chief executive officer of the Vancouver Olympic and Paralympic organizing committee, he didn't just run the Games, he lived them.

In the early, glitchy days, his Irish eyes never smiled. The colour was gone from his cheeks, and the answer to the question of whether he was having any fun was a quiet and shaky "not really."It was one of only two short replies he gave to questions during the Games, the other in response to a query about whether he had anything to say to the British press who had savaged the Olympics.

"No, I don't have a comment," he said. "You know how I feel about comments that are made about the Games that are not true."

But he took what criticisms there were of the Olympics personally.

Derided for not speaking French, he didn't lash back at the critics but just spoke more, hacking his way through his closing remarks partially in Canada's other official language - in front of 60,000 people.

Furlong, 59, said he was terrified, but rewarded. At the press conference after the closing ceremony a cameraman for a French language network approached and said people in Quebec were blown away.

"You should get the Order of Canada," the cameraman said.

Furlong blushed.

Despite overseeing a Winter Games, the man born in Tipperary, Ireland is not a winter sports kind of guy.

He tried the bobsled track in Salt Lake City and screamed the whole way down. He tried skiing once, he said, but gave up when a four-year-old zipped past him on the mountain and asked if he needed any help.

His frustrations around the Games never came from the fields of play but from people failing to understand his vision, whether it was his staff or others.

"He is a true and fervent believer in the Olympic cause, what it does for the world, to bring people together, to build a better community," said Doug Forseth, who was involved in the bid for the Games as a vice-president with Intrawest, the company that owns the Whistler-Blackcomb ski resort.

"It's nothing that leads towards improving his own place in the world," Forseth said. "I think he has done that but it was secondary to his purpose."

As people wonder what Furlong will do next, he's quick to say he's not a businessman or a politician.

Those needs for the Olympics fell to businessman and philanthropist Jack Poole, the chairman of the board of directors.

Together, Furlong and Poole were a rock solid team, said B.C. Premier Gordon Campbell.

"John learned from greatness and has picked up a lot of Jack's talents," he said.

When Poole died a few days before the flame was lit in Greece, Furlong was bereft. Not only had he lost his confidant, but also his biggest booster.

When he was hired on to be the CEO for the Games, there were those who thought the former manager of an elite Vancouver sports club simply didn't have what it took to run the biggest show on earth.

Yet, many CEOs have not stood the test of time like Furlong, falling to politics and power struggles, said Jacques Rogge, the president of the International Olympic Committee.

"He is able to unite everyone around him," Rogge said in an interview.

Over the 10 years he's been involved in the 2010 Games, Furlong became known for the stories he would tell to inspire both his troops and the crowds.

In his voice there is always a Celtic lilt, and in between the jokes, a tinge of darkness.

A Christmas card he sent his staff one year included a story about not being with his mother when she died.

Furlong always has a story, and his willingness to tell tales inspired a verb among those who have followed him on this endeavour: to be Furlonged.

But in the moment he learned that an athlete had died at his Games, Furlong had nothing.

He shakily rewrote his speech for the opening ceremonies and changed his tie from a brightly coloured one to one that was black.

"I didn't have the tools to deal with this," he said at the time.

Midway through the Games, the words were back for Furlong, who was re-energized by the athletes' performances and the crowds filling the streets and embracing the Games.

The IOC, with whom he'd had more than one altercation during the planning phase of the Games, was so pleased it stopped requiring daily meetings.

A few days before the end of the Games, Furlong watched figure skater Joannie Rochette win her bronze medal and said he was inspired by her courage to take to the ice after her mother's death.

Furlong surveyed the scene at the packed Pacific Coliseum arena, his family now no longer at arm's length from his life, but within arm's reach, and one of his grandchildren waving a Canada scarf over her head.

He didn't see "his Games," he said. He said he saw success, which he and his team had earned the way he believed they earned the right to host the Games at the vote in Prague.

At points during the Games, Furlong said, he would wake up in the middle of the night and for a split second believe he'd dreamed it all.

They were the only quiet seconds in 17 days.

When he awoke Tuesday morning, it was with the Olympics behind him and the Paralympics on the horizon.

"I know there will be a happy ending."