As the London Olympics closing ceremony drew to a close – once the great and good of British rock and pop had cleared the stage, along with the accompanying skating nuns, Morris dancers and high-kicking Suffragettes – the biggest cheer of the night went to an army of people known as the ‘Games Makers’.

Dressed in colourful uniforms that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a drive-through burger bar, these volunteers were the public face of the Olympics; the cheerful meeters-and-greeters whose wide smiles and sunny dispositions have been highly-praised by our international visitors.

As anyone who has lived there, or just been there, will know, London isn’t the friendliest city in the world – but for two weeks this summer, the capital was courteous and welcoming, thanks to the thousands of men and women who gave up their time to be Games Makers.

As well as greeting spectators arriving at sporting events, showing them to their seats and manning the toilets, the volunteers made sure they got back on their way safely, helping people across roads and onto buses. East London must have looked like a 1950s public information film.

While the swell of national pride generated by the 2012 Olympics was largely down to our stellar sporting performance, the slick efficiency and effortless people skills of the volunteers played a big part in that, too.

And just as Britain’s medal-winners have inspired many of us to take up sports or just get a bit fitter, it seems the Games Makers have got us going all public-spirited.

There is said to be a boom in wannabe volunteers basking in the glow of Big Society-style selflessness and offering their spare time to help out at clubs and charities.

But will it last?

Good intentions are all well and good. Putting them into practise can be a different matter. I once accompanied some Bradford aid-workers to Bosnia – we delivered food to destitute old people living in shacks and to a camp of gypsy families where the children didn’t even have shoes.

Coming face-to-face with that kind of poverty was gut-wrenching and I came home determined to do my bit for the poor. Several years on, the closest I’ve come to helping the needy is taking the occasional bin-liner of old clothes to my local charity shop.

Like keeping the weight off after a diet, the trick is to follow your good intentions through. The challenge now will be keeping that Olympic feelgood flame going, firing up a culture of volunteering from the Games Makers’ legacy.

Maybe David Cameron would get more of us into his Big Society if he enforced a spell of volunteering, like National Service. I’m game.