Apologies in advance to Doug Gillon, who has already filed more articles than there are BBC staff in Beijing, but here goes: what a load of dross the Olympic Games had served up before the weekend.
At least Andy Murray had the decency to get walloped by Chinese Taipei's finest, go home and leave the competition to the guys and girls who wait four years for some recognition. "I was unprofessional," said Murray, without hint of irony. For all the saturation coverage of kayaking, canoeing, equestrianism and judo (praise be to the red button and Dickinson's Real Deal), early highlights from the city that never sees have been confined to a glut of memorable botch-ups.
First, the organisers were forced to admit that some of the opening ceremony footage was faked. Presumably, the embarrassing stunt only came to light when Disney-Pixar submitted the invoice.
It has been a bruising week for Auntie Beeb. Adrian Chiles, a modern-day Clive James, has courted controversy by light-heartedly admitting he tried - "and executed" - a forward roll in his hotel room. Given that most of China's high-rise hotels enable guests to close the door and open the window at the same time, Chiles' seemingly spacious surroundings have infuriated licence-payers. He declined to mention whether he was emulating the gymnastics or had his One Show co-host Christine Bleakley over for company. The (allegedly) lucky sod.
Sue Barker deserves a gold medal for flawless professionalism; not just for her calm response to the studio springing a leak while live on air but for smiling politely as Sharron Davies asks the umpteenth duff British swimmer if he, she or he-she will "notch it down to experience". Davies may have been a great swimmer but she has the social skills of Steven Spielberg's Jaws prototype.
Thank God for weightlifting. It is a little-known fact, not to mention of little interest, that the barbell was Broadfoot's first love. Once upon a time, the International All-round Weightlifting Association dispatched an annual certificate confirming that a clutch of junior world records in the 55kg class remained intact. Impressive, huh? It should be pointed out IAWA had approximately three spotty teenagers trim to the point of emaciation perfecting their clean and jerks across the globe.
Weightlifting, not to be confused with roid-rage bodybuilding, is a compelling spectator sport and has provided the greatest entertainment and competition of the Olympics thus far. The drama is in the danger. Just ask Janos Baranyai. The Hungarian has earned fame for the weightlifting equivalent of a David Busst injury. His final attempt to snatch 148kg (approximately a ridiculous amount) ended in the kind of grotesque disfigurement for which YouTube was invented. At the point of locking his trapezius muscles, Baranyai's elbow popped out of its socket, his forearm did a loop-the-loop and a gantry of commentators projectile vomited.
Earlier, Svetlana Tsarukaeva showed that being a smart-ass can have serious consequences. The women's world No.2 in the 63kg class recorded a no-total after failing on three attempts to lift her introductory weight in the snatch.
As a result, the Russian finished stone last, a fact that transformed her trainer into a tracksuited Stalin. Perhaps fearing some Polonium B being slipped into her Powerade, the 20-year-old broke down in tears after her failed final attempt, tried to run away and succeeded only in smacking her head off the wall.
It evoked memories of my old trainer, Bill Wright - a kind of Castlemilk version of Mr Miyagi - laughing uncontrollably as I failed to lock out at the snatch and sent a laden barbell hurtling towards the chalk bucket, which duly turned the platform into a snowglobe and the hapless lifter into Tony Hart's Morph.
Mercifully, the athletes have finally been let loose in the Bird's Nest. Two weeks is a long time to wait for 10 seconds of sporting theatre. At least we had the weightlifters to pass the time.
And another thing ... Setanta have given sports fans plenty of eyecatching entertainment for their monthly subscription (not least the engrossing Press Box) but it seems even their behind-the-scenes staff are compulsive viewing.
Jo, 29, from Glasgow, aka Setanta Girl, has become a regular favourite around the SPL grounds, as much for her scandalous spray-on jeans and elfin beauty as for her abilities as a, er, focus puller.
After the Soaraway Sun picked up on the internet phenomenon, Russell Kyle, Setanta's excellent PR executive, has been inundated with requests from the titillating tabloids for the shy, apparently single, Steadicam assistant to shed her modesty.
It prompted a very un-PC but highly stimulating question: who is the most delectable of Scotland's growing army of female sports broadcasters? Results (within reason) next week.
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