NINE years ago, in a concrete playpen in the east end of London, a major bout of naïveté broke out in a bunch of sports reporters despite them having been heavily inoculated down the years with industrial doses of cynicism.

Ambling back to the press centre from the closing ceremony of the London Olympics, there was general agreement that 2012 had witnessed an exciting, successful and clean games.

The truth, of course, later revealed in a series of documentaries and revised drugs tests, was that London 2012 was as dirty as a hippo watching porn after a mud bath.

Now, journalists could have been forgiven for their innocence in the face of rampant doping. There had been no truly suspicious performances: a boy had not swum faster than a shark, a sprinter had not beaten the speed of sound in a photo finish and a weightlifter had not raised a small bungalow over his head by means of clean and jerk.

But evidence revealed over the years raises the suspicion that the only people not on drugs in London were the Herald photographer and me. And, frankly, I am not that sure about me.

The tally – and it is a running one – is that 149 athletes were subsequently found to be doping in 2012 despite having initially passed tests. In a quite wonderful revelation by Grigory Rodchenkov, the architect of an industrial-sized doping operation in the Russian team, it was shown that officials were given a tour of the testing centre months before the Games.

This, of course, blew the communal press naïveté to a place where only Elon Musk and Richard Branson can find it on their summer hols.

Yet the world, Covid weary and condemned to watch the gaudy fuss on the telly, is being encouraged to raise a cheer for the 2020 Olympics in Tokyo, being held in Tokyo.

There are three constituencies in regards to the Olympics. The first is those who do not care. The second consists of those who care very, very much. The third group – and I am snugly in this box – is formed by those who watch it with a mixture of awe and mild horror.

Tokyo thus far has been spectacular for this third group. While Olympic fans will rejoice over the achievements of driven individuals, the rest of us – far from immune form the charms of sporting greatness – will reflect that what is going on in Japan gives a nod – no, a Glasgow kiss – to any notions of Olympic ideals.

First, this is a Games that simply should not be taking place. The local populace is scunnered by the reality of importing a deadly virus just to fill television hours.

The decision to go ahead was and is not motivated by the profoundly spiritual human desire to overcome all odds but by the stronger human desire not to return gazillions of dollars to sponsors.

Already there is Covid in the athletes’ village, various medal contenders are stranded at home after going down with a chesty cough and many reporters are isolated in hotels, condemned to asking newsdesks precisely what has happened so they can then send reports to the same desk.

On track, in pool, on pitch and court, the doped will compete and, with annoying regularity, the cheats will win. The dopers are so far ahead of the authorities that they are lapping them. Before a starting gun has been fired, there have already been whispers about certain competitors.

It was always thus. The law of defamation prevents me from sharing information about past transgressors who have escaped justice. Their comeuppance, though, may yet lie in a sample that will be revealed as dodgy by future more sophisticated tests.

The Olympics, though, will jump over such obstacles with the facility of a high jumper on a cocktail of methamphetamine and steroids.

Tokyo will host a sporting competition in vast, impressive stadiums with no spectators. The city will be placed at an increased health risk. The clean athletes will face those who have undergone decreased scrutiny because of the pandemic. These factors make the 2020 Games held in 2021 unique.

But much remains the same. The corporate ruthlessness that shrugged off a terrorist outrage in 1972 has no difficulty brushing off a pesky, fatal pandemic. The commentators who cheered on cheats of the past will roar on the cheats of the present.

The sponsors will largely miss the level of hospitality reminiscent in its excesses of a carry-out back at Caligula’s but their products will still reach a global audience.

Tokyo, thus, will be strange, but not that strange. We will recognise its core elements from our armchairs. We may even be able to raise a cheer for the good guys and good gals who win despite relying only on talent and hard work. The Olympics does have them despite increasing cynicism.

So will this hard-bitten and well-chewed hack watch any of this drug-fuelled, commercially driven charade? Just as much as I can.

The Olympics is a home for sincere aspiration as well as devious doping. It can produce moments of inspiration even if some are later found to be deeply suspect. They can introduce us to the great and the good as well as the shady and unscrupulous.

This is their glory. They are not the acme of sporting greatness. They are not the unsullied paragons of life-affirming ethics. They are, instead, a showcase for humanity in its occasional goodness, regular sinfulness and continual effort to achieve by foul means or fair.

The Olympics, in short, are a reflection, not a distortion, of human beings at play. Enjoy.

Our columns are platforms for writers to express their opinions.They not necessarily represent the views of The Herald