So I turn the telly on yesterday, and blow me if it isn't the Olympics. Honestly, they could have given us some notice.
Incidentally, because it actually is the Olympics, that means you don't have to blow me. In fact, I positively forbid you to. So there.
Of course the Olympics isn't like one of those sordid commercial sports events you sometimes see. Here, it's the taking part that counts. It must be, because it certainly isn't the watching. I've never seen such crappy spectator sports in my life.
Take judo, for instance. Judo just looks like two adults trying to playfight with a child who's crawled off and left them playfighting each other instead. I'm surprised no-one in the audience shouts all pile on! It did give us one thing, though, the return of an old friend - that classic commentator's phrase, and the British athlete has got a lot to do. Normally it means the British athlete is about to be overtaken by that Malawian guy who's never run on an actual track before, but in this instance it means the British athlete has just been forcibly reshaped into a rhombus for the fifth time. Go team GB, I'm sure we're all tremendously proud. Well, at least you haven't been taking controlled substances. Not helpful ones, anyway.
And then there was the women's weightlifting. So that's where Beth Ditto's been. Look, she's lifted loads more than Jeanette Krankie. And there's the swimming. And the cycling. And the standing and waving. Oh no, that's just a medal ceremony. Sorry, it all blurs together after a while. Still, well done Beth. I never knew you were Korean.
Back in the world of real sport, it was the first day of the football season as well. And City won, 1-0 at Blackpool. Starting as we mean to go on. And Rovers lost. Not that half of you care. To you, it's about as meaningful as the Olympics.
Dear Mr Secback
I must object to your belittling of the gallant knights of sport we see cavorting daily upon our 'goggle-boxes'. As a keen air pistol shooter myself I can see nothing which is not fascinating in observing the heroes of our sport and, indeed, many others, expressing the highest pinnacles of human achievement through their superlative displays physical perfection.
True, it is a little odd watching someone shoot at a paper target rather than a real pigeon, but I presume this is in the interests of heightening the enjoyment for the television audience and can therefore only applaud the efforts of the 'Olympic-meisters' in their enhancement of the visual fascination of this most glorious of sports.