This weekend, the Eton Dorney rowing course will host the second of this season's World Cups – its first international action since the London 2012 Olympic and Paralympic events. Pre-sale tickets have sold out for tomorrow and Sunday (June 23), although there are still some available for Saturday (June 22). And you can still get a quota of tickets if you turn up on the day.

Coming almost a year after the epic competitions that took place on the waters of Eton College's purpose-built rowing lake, this latest gathering of the sport's great and good for what is officially entitled the Samsung Rowing World Cup will inevitably evoke memories of a summer already hazed into gold in the minds of those who witnessed it.

As one fortunate enough to have reported on three of the four Olympic finals days, I recall vividly the ecstasy of the gold medallists in the women's pair, Helen Glover and Heather Stanning, after they had delivered not just the first British gold of the Olympic regatta but the first British gold of the Games - and indeed the first Olympic rowing gold ever earned by British women. As they collapsed into each other just past the finishing line, the air a ferment of approbation, it was as if their achievements were having a concussive effect.

Britain's Zac Purchase (left) and Mark Hunter, shattered in the wake of their narrow failure to defend the Olympic lightweight double sculls title

I recall the agony - truly - of the defending men's lightweight sculls champions, Britain's Zac Purchase and Mark Hunter, after they had seen another gold turn to silver in the final few metres as the Danish pairing of Mads Rasmussen and Rasmus Quist Hansen came through. Here was rowing at maximum intensity - and brutality. It is hard to think of two sportsmen ever appearing more shattered by a defeat, and the physical cost of the Britons' effort was painfully obvious as Sir Steve Redgrave and his wife Ann, GB Rowing's medical officer, had to lift Hunter out of the boat and assist his faltering steps away from the jetty.

Other memories crowd in: the glorious progress of New Zealand's peerless pair, Eric Murray and Hamish Bond; the deep joy of Katherine Grainger in securing Olympic gold after three successive silvers, victorious in the double sculls with Anna Watkins; Drew Ginn, Australia's triple Olympic champion, reduced briefly to tears at the press conference after defeat by Britain's coxless four, where he indicated that his glorious competitive career had come to an end, an emotion which earned palpable respect from each of the seven other rowers alongside him.

Katherine Grainger (left) shows the joy of winning Olympic gold after three successive silvers as she stands on the podium with Anna Watkins

And amidst all these images, I will recall a sound - that of the National Anthem being sung in the steep, packed stands by the finish after each of the four British victories - sung with the precision of a church choir.

Four of those punctiliously celebrated British champions will be back on the water at Eton Dorney - Glover is in the lightweight double with Polly Swann as Stanning takes a year out of competition, while Andy Triggs Hodge and Peter Reed, whose thwarted pairs ambitions were redirected to a golden end in the four, compete alongside their London 2012 crewmate Alex Gregory in a new eight.

At least one other golden Brit will be at the course over the weekend - but for Sophie Hosking, whose triumph with Kat Copeland in the lightweight double scull added Britain's fourth and final gold of the regatta, the responsibilities will be those of an ambassador for the event rather than a competitor.

Hosking returned to Eton Dorney earlier this week for the first time since that summer of success in order to announce her retirement from the sport at the age of 27.

"Obviously the place felt very different from the way it was when during the Olympics," she told insidethegames. "But being around the boathouse brought back some of the emotions I was feeling around that time, and the feelings I had when Cat and I were making our final preparations before racing.

"We hadn't watched any of the previous finals. We were focusing on the job we had to do at the Olympics, although obviously we were wishing all of our teammates the best when it came to their races. We were training on the course twice a day when the racing was over.

"Of course it was really encouraging to see people we had been training with winning gold. We did all our training pieces against the Katherine and Anna. But we still had to go out there and perform in our competition.

"I think Kat and I felt that by the time we got into our boat for the Olympics everything possible had been done, all the preparations had been made, and we felt very confident. For us it was about staying calm and trying to savour those moments.

"Before the racing we were in the British team tent and we both quite quiet in the way we made ourselves ready to compete.

"Although I have had more experience of competing than Kat, I didn't need to calm her down. We had both competed as individuals in the sculls, which means you have to take complete ownership of your preparations for a race.

Sophie Hosking (right) and Kat Copeland acknowledge the acclaim at Eton Dorney after winning Olympic gold in the women's lightweight double scull

"The atmosphere while we were racing was phenomenal, and it was the same throughout the Olympic regatta. And after we had won it was marvellous to be able to celebrate it with the friends and family who were there.

"I have very proud memories of Eton Dorney, and it will always be a special place for me."

Those memories go back all the way to the course's first big international regatta, the 2006 World Championships, where Hosking made her debut and won bronze in the lightweight quadruple scull. She was in the quad which took silver a year later in Munich before switching to the double sculls and taking further bronzes in 2009 and 2011.

Hosking, whose father, David, won a gold medal as part of Britain's lightweight men's eight at the 1980 World Championships, believes this latest high profile rowing event in Britain has come at a vital time for the sport's development.

Sophie Hosking and Kat Copeland enjoy the Olympic and Paralympic parade through London in September

"The World Cup is really important in terms of building on the popularity and success of the sport at the Olympics," she said. "There are some new crews and combinations taking part across the board, but it will be important for home crews to be as successful as possible across as many events as possible.

"While London 2012 may have been the first Games where British women won gold medals, I think that performance had been building for years. In Beijing the quadruple and double sculls narrowly missed gold, and on the basis of results in the seasons leading up to London 2012, those results were bound to happen.

"I think the level of success the British team achieved in London has made a great impact in terms of encouraging people to take up the sport, and that was one of the best things about it."

It would be nice to think that this weekend's activities will continue to stimulate what is one of the most vital legacies of the London 2012 Games.

Mike Rowbottom, one of Britain's most talented sportswriters, covered the London 2012 Olympics and Paralympics as chief feature writer for insidethegames, having covered the previous five summer Games, and four winter Games, for The Independent. He has worked for the Daily Mail, The Times, The Observer, The Sunday Correspondent and The Guardian. To follow him on Twitter click here.

What we used to know as amateur boxing is in a state of turmoil. Just days after the uneasy truce between UK Sport and Britain's amateur bodies, the sport has been hit by another major controversy, with British star Andrew Selby likely to be ruled out of next year's Commonwealth Games after signing a contract with the International Boxing Association (AIBA) to become part of its revolutionary AIBA Pro Boxing (APB) tournament.

It is a move that will dismay the Commonwealth Games Council for Wales (CGCW), as he was the outstanding Welsh hope for a gold medal in any sport.

The 24-year-old from Barry is ranked world number one after making history in Minsk this month by becoming the first British boxer to successfully defend a European title.

While the APB contract, which provides substantial prize money, allows Selby to compete at all major AIBA tournaments, including the Rio 2016 Olympics, there is no provision for his release for Glasgow 2014.


Should other British stars, including England's Olympic super-heavyweight champion Anthony Joshua, decide to take the same route next year it could denude the Games of Britain's best boxing talent, a situation that seriously concerns the Sports Minister, Hugh Robertson. He tells insidethegames: "I am not at all happy with this. It important that the strongest possible British teams are represented in the Commonwealth Games, which, like the Olympics, are of vital importance to the nation as a whole. I shall be watching the situation closely."

The APB tournament – created by AIBA's ultra-ambitious President C K Wu, and which makes its debut with a series of exhibition bouts beginning in Rio on August 14 – controversially allows fighters to box professionally while retaining their Olympic eligibility.

UK Sport, which, last week withdrew its threat to divert funding for the Olympic boxing programme pending a promised reconstitution of the sport's fractured governing bodies, say: "It is for the sport and the athlete to decide the best route for them to success at the Olympic Games in 2016, which is what our funding is provided for."

However, many – including the Sports Minister – will argue that participation in an event as significant as the Commonwealth Games is surely part of the World Class Performance Programme, which financially supports Selby and other elite boxers.

Wu declares: "Rio 2016 will be the first Olympic Games in history allowing pro boxers to compete, and their qualification pathway to do so will be through competing in our revolutionary APB programme, which is fully aligned with the principles of the Olympic Movement."


However, I do not believe the evolution of APB is playing as well with the IOC as Wu would have us believe.

There are serious concerns across the lake in Lausanne about the conflict it is causing, and the detrimental effect it might have on developing nations whose boxers could miss out on Olympic qualification because of the emphasis placed on progression to the Games through the elitist APB.

This week the British Boxing Board of Control (BBBofC) issued a statement supporting the World Boxing Council (WBC) and the European Boxing Union (EBU) in protesting against the proposal of AIBA to admit professional boxing into the Olympic Games "to the possible detriment of amateur boxing worldwide".

They are joined in this by the North American Boxing Federation (NABF), which warns that there are inherent safety issues and that "fatalities might occur if a non-experienced boxer is fighting against a professional".

A valid point?

On top of this, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) and AIBA face a threat of legal action from the WBC President José Sulaimán.

In all, hardly a situation that is likely to enhance Wu's prospects of succeeding Jacques Rogge as IOC President in September.

No, Britain should not be pandering to the whim of Wu.


One boxer who isn't is Britain's Olympic bantamweight gold medallist Luke Campbell. He has opted to take the orthodox professional route, joining the mushrooming Matchroom stable run by Eddie Hearn – prodigal son the ubiquitous Barry, making his paid debut at lightweight in hometown Hull on July 13.

"APB was never an option for me," he says. "It was never a passion of mine to get involved with it. My goal was always to be an Olympic champion and when I achieved that, I thought 'what's next for me?' I was doing Dancing on Ice when it came about. I used this time to evaluate my options and decided to take the proper pro route.

"The problem with APB is that no-one in this country really knows about it. Boxing fans appreciate the real professional game, the one which can make you a global superstar and that's what I want to be."

"I want to be a world champion, not boxing in some back street venue in a foreign country with no-one knowing who you who you are or who you are fighting."

The personable Campbell was chatting to us in Stratford this week during a break from promoting StreetGames, a nationwide programme that engages thousands of youngsters in disadvantaged areas in what is termed "doorstep sport". This can include traditional or adapted versions of games such as cardio tennis, instant ping-pong, rush hockey and street dance, and has just received a £3 million ($5 million/€4 million) lottery windfall from Sport England.

Campbell, newly awarded an MBE, is happy to be an ambassador for the project, for, as he says, it was sport which saved him from a life of aggression and possibly crime. "I wasn't a nice person to be around as a youngster. It was only a matter of time before I got myself into trouble with the police. I was on a slippery slope.

"But at 13 I joined a boxing gym and I found it was a way to channel my aggression into something positive. Sport gives us the boundaries in life and the discipline to go on."

A tall, slick southpaw, Campbell received a number of professional offers after winning Britain's first European gold in nearly half a century and obviously several more after the Olympics. Such is his resolve that, as well as visiting and sparring with seasoned pros in the famously spit-and-sawdust atmosphere of Gleason's Gym in New York recently, before the Olympics he had also paid his own way to visit Freddie Roach's Wild Card gym in Los Angeles where he stayed for a week picking up tips from the stars who train there.

"I just wanted to learn something different, to pick out things that other boxers did. It was a great experience. I knew Amir [Khan] then worked with Freddie and that gave me the idea of going there. Me and a friend from my boxing gym just turned up and I said, 'I'm Luke Campbell from Britain, can I stay and watch?' Freddie was great; he said 'yes of course you can.' He didn't charge us anything and usually you have to pay quite a lot just to get in. In all it cost around £800 ($1,250/€935) but it was all worth it.


Campbell, 25, has stayed in contact with his British former teammates Anthony Ogogo and Tom Stalker ("my two best pals") who have made successful pro debuts. He is also in touch with fellow gold medallist Joshua, but like everyone else has no idea what the big man is going to do with his boxing life. "I get the impression he still hasn't made up his mind."

It is no secret that Joshua, who hasn't boxed since the Olympics and has had a foot operation, is being wooed by Wu as well as the world's leading pro promoters.

But he faces a dilemma. Should he join Selby at APB, and get beaten either there or even before that in October's World Championships in Kazakhstan, he can knock a coupled of noughts off his market value.

In the current climate, with all the uncertainty after Derek Mapp was jocked off the chairmanship of the British Amateur Boxing Association (BABA), Britain has done well to retain over half the 2012 line-up as the first anniversary of their ring triumphs approaches, six of the ten-strong squad still under the Sheffield stewardship of Rob McCracken.

And Nicola Adams, whose ever-smiling features have done so much to enhance women's sport after becoming the first-ever female Olympic boxing gold medallist, has also resisted offers to join the women's pro circuit and is set to defend her European Union title in Hungary next month.


Allied to the trio of medals (one gold and two bronze) in the men's Euro Championships, it is a happy indication that the boxers are unfazed by the unseemly political punch-ups that have embarrassed the sport at administrative level.

It is also good to record that Keith Walters, long-serving chair of the Amateur Boxing Association of England, until elevated to the Presidency, swapping seats with ex-Sports Minister Richard Caborn, has been awarded a richly deserved MBE after such sterling dedication to the grassroots of the sport.

The focus is now on who succeeds Mapp as head of BABA.

Lord Colin Moynihan has ruled himself out but some other interesting names come to mind, among them, Sir Clive Woodward and ex-RAF middleweight boxing champ and BBBofC steward Lord Tom Pendry, like Moynihan an Oxford Blue.

Personally, I'd like to see another former Sports Minister, Kate Hoey, a great boxing fan, throw her hat into the ring. She'd sort out the blazers – and Wu too.

Meantime, "Cool Hand" Campbell tells us he is still looking for a trainer to help launch his pro career in Hull, where Jayne Torvill, who coached him to the final of Dancing on Ice, will be at ringside.

If things get slippery again he can always call her up into the corner.

Alan Hubbard is a sports columnist for The Independent on Sunday, and a former sports editor of The Observer. He has covered a total of 16 Summer and Winter Games, 10 Commonwealth Game, several football World Cups and world title fights from Atlanta to Zaire.

The bridge is the dominant metaphor of the Istanbul 2020 Olympic bid, as testified by its slogan, "Bridge together".

You can understand why: the bridge between Europe and Asia; bridges across the Bosphorus; or, as bid chairman Hasan Arat, put it on Saturday (June 15) in the Olympic capital of Lausanne at the Extraordinary General Assembly of the Association of National Olympic Committees (ANOC): "Istanbul offers the Olympic Movement a bridge to a new culture; to a region and a people who have never hosted the Olympic Games before."

A potential problem for the bid, though, is that Turkey has also been seen, I suspect, by some in the Movement as a bridge to the Gulf - or more prosaically, as a majority-Muslim alternative that could forestall for another few Olympiads the steadily mounting pressure for the Games to go to the Gulf.

This means that when something goes wrong, like Taksim Square and the torrent of unfavourable international media coverage the handling of the protests there has provoked, there may be a greater tendency for that support to melt away than backing based on the specific - very manifest - qualities of Istanbul as an Olympic host and the merits of its Games plan.


With nearly three months to go before the crucial vote in Buenos Aires, I don't think the situation is yet terminal for this imaginative bid with its promise of an amphitheatre for the Games every bit as spectacular as that offered by Rio de Janeiro, the next Summer Games host.

Any bid winner requires a coalition of different brands of support.

Moreover, as has been observed elsewhere, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) is very much a fan of strong political leadership.

As I write, there may still be enough room for manoeuvre - just - to enable Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan to emerge with authority shaken but not undermined while placating some of the protesters and enabling bid leaders to laud a mature, tolerant, secular democracy, as National Olympic Committee of Turkey President Uğur Erdener tried to do in Lausanne.

That said, I saw it reported that the protests had achieved the difficult feat of uniting - bridging together? - supporters of the city's three rival football clubs, suggesting that grievances are widely shared.

As my friend, the eminent football writer Simon Kuper Tweeted, alluding also to Egypt, "Wish I could rewrite Football Against the Enemy".

So who stands to be the main beneficiary of Istanbul's present discomfort?


My first inclination would be to say Tokyo, whose bid has achieved a lot more traction than last time around, when it finished third in the 2016 race.

But, actually, it may also have let Madrid back into the game.

Alejandro Blanco, the Spanish capital's bid leader, has said that Spain's new anti-doping law will add to the bid's credibility.

I would say it was indispensable if Madrid 2020 were not to be dead in the water.

Nonetheless, having bid now on three consecutive occasions, the West European candidate can legitimately claim credit for its persistence - just like the 2018 Winter Games winner, Pyeongchang.

And London 2012's success may work in favour of the tried and trusted over the adventurous and new - particularly in light of rumblings over Rio 2016's progress and the still delicate state of the global economy.

The Spanish city also tends to perform strongly in the first round of voting, although it is campaigning this time without the inimitable presence of Juan Antonio Samaranch senior, the late former IOC President.

If it can supplement its core vote with some latecomers, switching from the Istanbul camp, then we could once again have a surprise first-round casualty at the vote in Buenos Aires.


I must say I also slightly fear for the impact that the simultaneous race for the IOC Presidency might have on the Turkish bid's chances.

I sense an incipient dilution in the apparent antipathy I have often felt in Olympic circles for the notion of hosting a Summer Games in the Gulf.

This may, in part, be a by-product of the courting of IOC members from the Gulf region - who include Kuwait's increasingly influential Sheikh Ahmad Al-Fahad Al-Sabah, the ANOC President - by candidates for the top job.

But I would be surprised if the new IOC leadership did not appear less hesitant than the present incumbents about the whole idea of a Gulf Olympics, perhaps as soon as 2024.

And if a Gulf Games is becoming a more attractive prospect, then why would you need to forestall it by voting for Istanbul?

The sheer number of high-level decisions that IOC members are being required to take in quick succession makes calling the outcome of any particular race more than usually hazardous.

But it is hard to concoct any "spin" under which this has been a good month for Istanbul 2020.

David Owen worked for 20 years for the Financial Times in the United States, Canada, France and the UK. He ended his FT career as sports editor after the 2006 World Cup and is now freelancing, including covering the 2008 Beijing Olympics, the 2010 World Cup and London 2012. Owen's Twitter feed can be accessed here.

The final countdown to the two biggest years in Brazil's sporting history has begun. Hosting the World Cup and Olympic Games in such quick succession was always going to call for "order and progress" two words that adorn their national flag.

In the sixties and seventies, Mexico and Munich both staged the two biggest events in world sport in succession, albeit, the other way round.

In 1963, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) selected Mexico City as host city for the 1968 Olympics. The following autumn, FIFA also chose Mexico to stage the 1970 World Cup.

Concerns over altitude were there from the start. At the Olympic vote, the Mexicans even offered to pay the expenses of those wanting to acclimatise and in the years that followed, tried to downplay the issue.

"Ultimately, the fears and admonitions expressed by a large segment of the world press proved to be founded almost entirely on mere conjecture," they claimed.

"There are those who will die," warned Swedish athletics coach Onni Niskanen. He lived in Addis Ababa, 7,000 feet above sea level and trained Abebe Bikila and Mamo Wolde, Olympic marathon champions both.


Existing facilities had been the cornerstone of Mexico City's Olympic bid, but the showpiece University stadium, built in the fifties received a facelift. This included a new track, improved floodlights, an electronic scoreboard and lifts. Seating capacity was increased and improved, especially in the VIP areas.

The Azteca Stadium staged both the 1968 Olympic football tournament and the World Cup final two years later. The Brazilians played all but one of their matches in 1970 at Guadalajara's Jalisco Stadium, upgraded for the Olympics. The Cuauhtémoc Stadium in Puebla was new for the Olympics and was also a World Cup centre.

The organisers sent out lavish brochures and on the orders of President Gustavo Díaz Ordaz, much of the official Games report was later devoted to showing Mexico as a modern state.

But In a country of extreme wealth and poverty, many were deeply troubled by the vast sums spent on the Games. A few days before the Olympics, the students demonstrated in the Plaza de las Tres Culturas. Almost 300 were killed when security forces moved in.

"It was like the film Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid," said veteran reporter John Rodda. He had been an eyewitness to a massacre.


David Hemery, the 400m hurdles gold medallist, later told how "A student came to the edge of the compound area. He was trying to say this was not personal, this has nothing to do with the Olympics. We respect what you are here for, but the world's press are here and we have no better time to challenge the regime."

Mexico '68 did go ahead, televised across the world thanks to the new satellite technology but the spectre of altitude returned as soon as competition began.

"Altitude wins the first gold of the Games," trumpeted one newspaper. Kenya's Naftali Temu won the 10,000 metres, while Australian Ron Clarke described his legs as "like iron" and lay prostrate on the track for a worryingly long time afterwards. He blamed subsequent health problems on his exertions in Mexico.

Runners who lived at altitude dominated longer distances but the explosive events also benefitted from the thin air and American long jumper Bob Beamon produced the leap of his life.

Politics were never far from the surface. Sprinters Tommie Smith and John Carlos gave the Black Power salute at their medal ceremony. The US Olympic Committee threw them out of the Games with a life ban.


The issue of altitude would simply not go away. In 1970, reigning world champions England did all they could to learn from the Olympics and acclimatised with matches in Colombia and Ecuador. Even so, many felt the Europeans were at a disadvantage. High profile matches kicked off at noon local time to suit European television.

For all that, the 1970 World Cup is considered perhaps of the greatest of all time. The Brazilians, with Pelé back to his best, became world champions for the third time and received the Jules Rimet trophy for keeps. West Germany, the next hosts, reached the semi-finals.

The seeds of their future triumph had been sown in 1966. Although they lost the World Cup final, they came away from London with a bigger prize, the right to stage the 1974 World Cup. The final would be in Munich. A few months before the Bavarian city had successfully bid for the 1972 Olympics.

They spoke of "the dark picture of the decline of an event which like no other had found an echo in the world" and "A dangerous disintegration of the ethical foundations of the Games and cultural world in the sixties."

In the final vote, they beat Madrid, Detroit and Montreal.

The 1972 Games would include two German teams. Before the vote, bid leader Willi Daume had met the Soviet sports leadership to give the necessary assurances. The East German men incidentally wore identical light blue jackets to the West Germans.

Construction on Munich's Olympic Stadium, the Olympic and World Cup centrepiece was soon underway. The Olympic village was right next door.


"Military uniforms were not desired. Sport clothing worn by the surveillance personnel was to have created a cheerful climate and would have discreetly blended into the Olympic rainbow of colour. The same concept was also valid for the Olympic Village. This should be no enclosed fortress with walls," said Olympic Organisers.

Their words came back to haunt them. Terrorists infiltrated the village and eleven members of the Israeli team were killed. The tragedy overshadowed all else. Organising committee President Daume spoke sadly of "a legacy of dangers and political problems".

Two years later the 16 teams at the 1974 World Cup were surrounded by intense security in stark contrast to the Olympics.

The dates for the tournament had been selected by computer to ensure the best weather. Despite this, an electrical storm interrupted television coverage during Holland's 4-0 win over Argentina. The host nation's classic victory over Sweden was also played in a downpour.


In Munich itself, they even needed the heavy roller to remove surface water before West Germany beat Poland in the final group match, effectively a semi-final. So much for the computer.

In the final West Germany came from behind to beat the Dutch so Franz Beckenbauer lifted the newly designed FIFA World Cup.

Few would deny the sporting success of the double headers in Mexico and Munich, but as Brazil may well discover, they could be vulnerable to events away from the field of play.

Born in Hackney, a stone's throw from the 2012 Olympic Stadium, Philip Barker has worked as a television journalist for 25 years. He began his career with Trans World Sport, then as a reporter for Sky Sports News and the ITV breakfast programme. A regular Olympic pundit on BBC Radio, Sky News and TalkSPORT, he is associate editor of the Journal of Olympic History, has lectured at the National Olympic Academy and contributed extensively to Team GB publications.

Nothing in recent years has changed top-level sport as much as television.

Take the Olympics.

The sale of broadcasting rights for the Games has channelled huge quantities of cash unimaginable a generation ago to the International Olympic Committee (IOC)'s Lausanne headquarters and onwards to participating sports bodies around the world.

At the same time, the enormous global audiences that technological advances have made possible have transformed the world's premier multi-sports event into a gigantic marketing opportunity for the cities bold and sophisticated enough to host it.

The Beijing 2008 Olympic Opening Ceremony was the first television programme in history to attract a billion live viewers.


So it was high time someone produced an insightful, accessible history of sport on television.

British journalist Martin Kelner has now done just that.

Sit Down And Cheer is very much UK-focused; it devotes much attention to figures such as Peter Dimmock and David Coleman, who, while familiar to, and revered by, British sports fans such as myself, mean less, clearly, to the average French or American reader.

But the time span Kelner needs to negotiate begins and ends, more or less, with an Olympic Games staged in London.

And there can be few better ways of encapsulating how completely and utterly the worlds of sport and television changed in the intervening 64 years than Dimmock's succinct description of the London 1948 Opening Ceremony.

"The teams all came into Wembley, lined up, then we had all the speeches, then they all marched out."

What, no industrial-scale chimneys? No skydiving monarch?

What is more, according to Kelner - who writes with the panache that will be familiar to connoisseurs of his newspaper columns - Prime Minister Clement Attlee's welcome message was "delivered as if it were a warning to be wary of chip pan fires".


Even the genius of Danny Boyle would have been hard-pressed to do much with that.

Then again, the number of viewers was probably limited to the low hundreds of thousands, as opposed to high hundreds of millions.

Nevertheless, the 1948 Games came at the right time and, as Kelner says, were "crucial to the development of TV in Britain" since they provided a vehicle to stand out from the then still dominant medium of radio.

Despite post-war austerity, the number of TV licences jumped from 15,000 to 90,000; the Daily Express suggested that the corner may have been turned.

Though Kelner deals perceptively and entertainingly with the great television moments of the past, however, it is his vision of the future, tentatively offered, that gave me most food for thought.

He first observes that gambling companies have taken over from the booze and cigarettes of yore, and the financial services businesses of more recent vintage as televised sport's main sponsors and advertisers.

He then highlights his own experiences of watching TV in conjunction with social media and interactive technology enabling viewers to bet on an event that might be happening thousands of miles away (in his case it was the 2012 Australian Open tennis final) while watching.

His conclusion? "Is there not a chance that the future of sport on television is that events will be created by or bought up by bookmakers?"


He goes on: "As far as the home market goes, the only thing we can say for certain is that betting opportunities on sport – and beyond – will proliferate, and it will become easier than ever to lose while you view.

"If even someone like me old enough to have stuck his head out the train window and get a piece of coal in the eye can manage effortlessly to lose a tenner on the Aussie Open without missing a point, the die is definitely cast."

It seems to me that the timing of Kelner's musings, as sports bodies and others are highlighting illicit gambling as a significant potential threat to the integrity of sport, is interesting to say the least.

Not that I would suggest for a moment that the entities actually sponsoring TV sport run anything other than wholly legitimate operations that can add greatly to the appeal of an event for a large number of people.

But the more the market grows, fuelled by the omnipresence of live sports coverage and the sheer ease of betting afforded by today's technology, the bigger the temptation for the unscrupulous to try to corrupt athletes and officials.

Sit Down And Cheer – a history of sport on TV by Martin Kelner is published by Bloomsbury.

David Owen worked for 20 years for the Financial Times in the United States, Canada, France and the UK. He ended his FT career as sports editor after the 2006 World Cup and is now freelancing, including covering the 2008 Beijing Olympics, the 2010 World Cup and London 2012. Owen's Twitter feed can be accessed here.

Given that this is the last piece I will write for insidethegames, I for once find myself rather at a loss about what to say.

I guess that for me, the Olympic adventure really all started in a school classroom at Anglo European School in Essex on July 6, 2005.

It was an A-Level PE lesson but my teacher, Mr White, decided instead to get out a radio and let us listen to the announcement of which city had been awarded the right to stage the 2012 Olympics and Paralympics.

Expecting to hear Paris named, it was a surprise to all of us in that room to hear International Olympic Committee (IOC) President Jacques Rogge declare "London" as the winner, cueing rather manic celebrations in that classroom.

Mr White kindly let us head down to the pub to celebrate, but not before saying: "You have no idea how much this will change the landscape of sport in this country."

Back then I certainly didn't, but I was still filled with an immediate, burning desire to somehow be part of London 2012 in whatever way I could.

It was sometime later following a stint at the University of Bedfordshire - four years ago, in fact - that I got such a chance when I first met insidethegames editor Duncan Mackay and commercial director Sarah Bowron.

Following two ultimately successful interviews, my first task for the company as a fresh-faced 21-year-old was the small matter of interviewing the world's fastest man: Usain Bolt. The picture I took with the Jamaican sprint-king that day all those years ago remains perhaps my most treasured one to date.

Since then it has simply been a whirlwind, globetrotting adventure that has felt as much like a wonderful hobby as a job.

Such travels have included stop-offs in Singapore for the 2010 Youth Olympic Games, India for the Delhi 2010 Commonwealth Games, Mexico for the Guadalajara 2011 Pan American Games and stays in so many more glamorous countries such as Australia, America, Brazil, China, Russia and New Zealand.

But, despite travelling the world, my undoubted highlight ironically came just 30 minutes away from the front door of my home in Essex.

I refer of course to the event I had heard about in my school classroom - London 2012.

I don't know whether it is a huge positive or depressing negative that my career almost certainly peaked at the age of 24 when I got my hands on a precious accreditation for London 2012 that allowed me full access to every single event at my home Games.

Now framed proudly on my bedroom wall that accreditation was used most responsibly (for the most part) to get a front-row seat for some of the greatest sport the world has ever seen.

Despite my valiant attempts to be as professional as possible, I found it a little difficult to separate the journalist from the fan as I sat in the Olympic Stadium on that unforgettable "Super Saturday" on August 4, 2012, when Jessica Ennis, Mo Farah and Greg Rutherford all stormed to gold medals. The venue was simply rocking against a wall of noise and I was pleased to see even the most hardened and experienced of my colleagues leap up from their chairs with delight as the action unfolded.

"It isn't always like this," I remember Duncan - one of the best and most experienced athletics writers in Britain - telling me following that magical evening session, but I'm not sure those words sunk in.

Those best few weeks of my life ultimately merged into a happy blur of watching Bolt win all three of his gold medals from the front row of the finish-line, seeing swimming icon Michael Phelps become the greatest Olympian ever at the Aquatics Centre, reporting on Sir Chris Hoy become the most decorated British Olympian ever at the Velodrome and generally just being like a "kid in a candy store", to borrow the American phrase.

How I functioned on so little sleep during those weeks I still don't know, but it was a period where sleep felt simply like a waste of valuable time.

From an insidethegames point of view, the post London 2012 period has almost been just as rewarding as the Games. As the end of the Olympics and Paralympics got closer, I was asked almost on a daily basis what I would be doing after London 2012, as if the website would just implode as quickly as the Paralympic Flame extinguished on September 9, 2012, to signal the conclusion of Games.

I can now safely say that  implosion hasn't happened and it has been wonderful to be part of the transition period at insidethegames where, amongst other things, we have proved that we are not a London 2012 website - but rather (if I may be so bold as to say) the leading international website dedicated to covering the Olympic and Paralympic Movements.

That has been has been a real pleasure for me. For a young kid from Essex to have walked and talked in the company of the most powerful leaders in world sport still feels just pretty weird.

To even have been granted the privilege of saying farewell on a forum such as this is an honour I am humbled by.

Needless to say, I have met far too many people and made far too many friends to name them all here, but I must indulge in a few quick moments of thanks.

To my colleagues past and present for all their help and support – particularly Emily Goddard, Mike Rowbottom, David Owen, Alan Hubbard Lauren Mattera and James Crook.

To all those great people I have interviewed, or have set up interviews or to those who comment on my articles. Every comment - good or bad - I read with real interest!

But most of all, a huge thanks to Sarah and Duncan for taking a shot on a raw talent four years ago. It has been a privilege to work for them and serve a mere foot solider in the insidethegames machine that will go from strength to strength without me.

Incidentally, I leave to try out the world of PR and Communications, where I will fortunately remain in the world of sport, continuing my trend of undertaking my hobby as a job.

I must apologise for the self-indulgence in this piece but after four years I felt I had to take the liberty of doing so just this once!

I will sign-off with something my friend once told me: "Try everything, keep hold of the good and hold on to the memories because they are the things that no one can ever take from you."

And they never will.

Tom Degun is a former reporter for insidethegames. Follow him on Twitter here.

Over the years, I have realised what the problem is with Christine Ohuruogu. From a media point of view, that is. She's no good at pretending.

I can remember clearly her breakthrough 400 metres victory at the 2004 Olympic trials held in the small arena next to Manchester City's stadium. After holding off the challenge of Scotland's seasoned international performer Lee McConnell, with a performance of gathering strength that has since become her trademark, the 20-year-old became a figure of altogether less assurance as she was led into the small media room crammed with eager scribes.

She clearly found the whole thing faintly ridiculous. Which, in a way, it was. But hey, if you will insist on winning, that's what you get.

Christine Ohuruogu arrives...by beating Lee McConnell in the 2004 Olympic trials at Manchester aged 20

Since that awkward press debut Ohuruogu has clearly decided that all the hassle is worth it, as she has gone on to win Commonwealth, world and Olympic titles before mounting a profoundly impressive defence of her title at the London 2012 Games, just a couple of miles from her family home in Stratford, which ended with an honourable defeat. Which she found unbearable.

Of course, there was a controversial interlude from 2006-2007 when she was banned from the sport for three failures to be where she was supposed to be when random dope testers arrived -the result, I believe, of her propensity to disconnect. The sanction was unfortunate but justified.

However one views that turn of events, however, the thing is that it has not been the case that her attitude to the media has been warped by the bad press she received in some quarters as a result. She was awkward with the press beforehand, and remains so, although to a lesser extent. This graduate of linguistics from University College, London simply has no time for the kind of small talk or chat which animates many other athletes when they come into contact with the press. She is naturally guarded, and only very rarely does one witness the barriers coming down.

Christine Ohuruogu (second right) celebrates 4x400m gold at this year's European Indoor Championships in Gothenburg with (from left) Shana Cox, Eilidh Child and Perri Shakes-Drayton

Five years ago I joined her in the classroom of a London school as she took a lesson as part of a scheme to encourage the use of English. She was suddenly a very different person, more relaxed, smiling readily. Afterwards, she acknowledged that if she had not been an athlete, she would probably have been a teacher.

Since then I have seen her from time to time on the circuit, occasionally eliciting a reserved greeting. Last month in Doha, at a press conference presaging the opening IAAF Diamond League meeting of the season, I sat with a few colleagues to interview her and Amantle Montsho, the current world 400m champion from Botswana. And Ohuruogu was back to her default position.

Question one. How important to her was the impending race against the world champion? "It's just a race. The first race of a long season."

Right.

Question two, different approach required, perhaps?

"How much confidence does it give you for this year's World Championships that you have proven yourself to be such an effective championship runner over the years?"

"Sometimes you can get lulled into a feeling of success and security. I don't like thinking about things like that."

Right.

As I set about some creative doodling, someone else asked her about what she has been doing in terms of preparation with her long-time coach, Lloyd Cowan. And suddenly Christine Ohuruogu was in the room.

"My little sister runs as well," she announced, her eyes bright, her face animated. "It's nice to be able to show her what I've learned and to help her with her running."

Victoria Ohuruogu, who has been named along with elder sister Christine in the 400m relay squad for the forthcoming European Team Championships

Somebody else asked how good her little sister might turn out to be. Dangerous! This could go badly wrong!

But no. It was as if the sun had just come out.

"I hope she will be better than me," said Ohuruogu, who was now SMILING. "She's run 52.6 and she's still only 20. I want her to be better than me. Then I can retire. As long as she doesn't beat me this year!"

And now the bemedalled Olympian was actively GRINNING.

The prospect of younger sister Victoria beating elder sister Christine this season, at the same age she made her own breakthrough, is extremely remote, although, who knows, by the time of the 2016 Rio Olympics it may not be so.

In the meantime, however, the Ohuruogu sisters are planning to run together. Both were named this week in Britain's 400m relay squad for the European Team Championships at Gateshead the weekend after next.

So big sister will be able once again to show little sister the ropes. She has managed to be a teacher after all.

Mike Rowbottom, one of Britain's most talented sportswriters, covered the London 2012 Olympics and Paralympics as chief feature writer for insidethegames, having covered the previous five summer Games, and four winter Games, for The Independent. He has worked for the Daily Mail, The Times, The Observer, The Sunday Correspondent and The Guardian. To follow him on Twitter click here.

Records are made to broken, that's just a fact. But there is one world record on the books that stands out above all others, one record that has held firm for a hundred and thirty-one years. This record was set a few months before England lost to Australia at the Oval for the first time in 1882 – which was the beginning of "The Ashes Test Cricket Series". Surely, this world record must get the added distinction of being "the greatest world record ever".

So, who does this record belong to and what athletic feat did they do that has withstood the test of time – 131 years of time? The answer: Robert Percival, a left-handed, all-rounder cricketer, who back – way, way back – in April 1882 threw a 5 ½ oz cricket ball 140 yards and 2 feet (422ft or 128.6 m) on the Durham Sands Racecourse.

The incredible durability of this record raises some questions though. Can Percy's throw be legitimate? Is it possible for him to have really thrown that far back in the 1880s? And if it is real, can his record ever be officially broken?

There is no film of his throw – obviously – and no photographs, that I could find of the event. And the research I did showed there were a host of inconsistencies around this accomplishment starting with his name and place of birth, to what day and year he actually threw the world record throw. Also despite extensive press coverage of the two-day event in 1882, there is apparently no mention of throwing the cricket ball or even of Robert Percival, which if true seems a bit odd.

It wasn't until the Sunday Chronicle Annual of 1905, some 23 years later, that definitive acceptance of his throw seems to have occurred followed by the initial mention in Wisden Cricketers' Almanack in 1908. So there has to be some sort of documentation, somewhere.

Then in 1955, another 50 years later, the Guinness Book of Records came into existence and also validated the record.


Now, here we are, 131 years later and the "official" world record for throwing a cricket ball is carved in stone, unbeaten, but its authenticity is still questioned by some and I would have to guess that number is growing as the years and decades go by. How is it possible that every other athletic accomplishment has been obliterated in the past century, except this one?

There have been a few athletes that have thrown, or have claimed to have thrown, and surpassed Percy's record throw, including fellow javelin thrower Jānis Lūsis the 1968 Olympic gold medalist, but the distances have not been verified or accepted.

With my passion for throwing anything and everything from javelins to snowballs, I couldn't resist seeing what I could do. So I finally put aside my traumatic experience in 1973 when I was charged with the most serious crime of "throwing" the ball when I was bowling at a school cricket match and then banned. My arm speed was labelled potentially dangerous for 11-year-old schoolboy cricket.

I tried and tried again on five separate occasions to break the record of all records. The first four times – I was not even close – and even the fifth outing did not start out that well.

On November 9, 2010 at the ripe old age of 48, I attempted to break the most unbreakable of records for a fifth and final time. On a fairly cool and windy day in Atlanta, Georgia I went to the track with some friends. I took just two throws with the cricket ball. The first throw was an unimpressive chuck of 119.46 metres but still better than anything I had done before on my previous four attempts. Then I took my second throw. I used a special "black" promotional cricket ball that Sky Sports had sent me, to try to beat the record. The measurement for this throw was 132.66m or 145 yards ½". So I had done it, but at the time I had mistakenly thought the record was 140.2 meters not 140 yards 2ft. It was nearly a year later before I realised my mistake and that my distance that day had actually surpassed Percy's record.


I posted the video on YouTube and submitted the throw for ratification to Record Setters, a contemporary American rival to Guinness that has less stringent requirements for ratification and it was accepted. I had two people filming and a spotter to pin point the exact landing spot and the distance was measured with a steel tape measure.

So can this record of records be beaten? Yes. Will Guinness World Records ratify my throw? I doubt it, especially given my past experience when I tried to get my world record for throwing a golf ball of 121.91m in 2001 certified. Despite having three spotters – one of which was American 2007 world champion and 2012 Olympic bronze medalist shot putter Reese Hoffa, two officials, film, a surveyor's official certified measurement, a logbook and signed letters from everyone, it still wasn't accepted. All the paper work has been posted on my website for over a decade.

So it looks like Percival's record will remain the "officially" recognised record from Guinness World Records. I can't claim that record officially, maybe semi-officially. So for now I'll just throw it on the pile with my other "unofficial" world record throws – which include 154 yards with an iPod, 132 yards with a mobile phone, 112.10m with a vinyl record and 53m with a 1976 Guinness World Records Pocket book.


I have enough "official" records with the spear. I figure I can balance them out with a few unofficial and semi-official records, right?

So if you get all the right officials in place, have great wind conditions, and get a good spin on the ball and then throw the hell out it you've got a chance of breaking the oldest world record on the books. But who is going to be able to throw that hard that could possibly beat the distance: a javelin thrower, a cricketer, a baseball player? And therein lies another issue with why this record has been so resilient. To throw 140 yards plus you are going to need a very high release velocity – 115mph plus. Maybe even closer to 120mph as it estimated that Glen Corbous, a Canadian minor league baseball player must have thrown in 1957 when he threw a 5 ¼oz baseball for a world record distance of 148 yards 1ft 10" (445 feet 10") which still stands today.

Most of the people that have the ability to beat this record will not risk injuring themselves and ruining their sporting careers. My guess is the pool of potential participants will be limited to young up and coming athletes or older athletes at the end of their career, or way past the end of their career like myself.

So as I sit back in my armchair I am content with my 40-year athletic career. I made a few Olympic teams and broke a few records along the way. I have had more fun these last few years wearing ridiculous flamboyant hand painted outfits, throwing bizarre objects and breaking and setting official and unofficial world records. Breaking Percival's world record and have it be recognised by Guinness and/or Wisden would have been a sweet bonus, but it's not to be.

So with a just a month until the 67th Ashes Series begin between England and Australia I look forward to seeing Robert Percival's world record finally beaten – officially – sometime within my lifetime so his record and cricket ball he threw that day can finally be put to rest.

Roald Bradstock represented Britain in the 1984 and 1988 Olympics and in 1996 was an alternate for the United States Olympic team. Bradstock competed in the 2000, 2004 and 2008 United States Olympic Trials. He has now switched his allegiance back to Britain. In addition to being an Olympic athlete, Bradstock is also an Olympic artist dubbed "The Olympic Picasso"

"What is the point of Maria Miller?" one of the nation's most prominent political pundits queried recently.

It is a question that I suspect many in sport also have been asking.

For those who might not know, Mrs Miller is Britain's Games Mistress, nominally in charge of what some MPs refer to as the Ministry of Fun – the Department for Culture, Media and Sport (DCMS).

Although the esteemed Quentin Letts was not referring specifically to sport when he opined: "The Right Hon Maria Frances Miller, Conservative MP for Basingstoke, is Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport. Were that not enough, she is also Minister for Women and (hooray!) Equalities. This 49-year-old mother of three has more briefs than a branch of Marks & Spencer. Sadly, she is an almost complete non-event."

Ouch! These political heavyweights don't pull their punches, do they?

As it happens Letts was not grinding a political axe, for he entertainingly sketch-writes writes for a Government-supporting newspaper, the Daily Mail.


As he suggests, Miller may not have a point. But as a humble student of politics myself – though strictly the sporting variety – I tend to agree that he certainly has.

When Miller took over from the lambada-dancing Jeremy Hunt at DCMS last September she came over initially as a pleasant and inoffensive motherly figure, though obviously knowing naff-all about sport.

Hunt's own knowledge of the subject wasn't that much greater, but at least he showed an interest, even taking a refereeing course to learn more about football at the grass roots. But a little knowledge became a dangerous thing, his ultimate meddling riling those he worked with and many in sport.

The DCMS was not a happy ship under his unpopular stewardship and few mourned his "elevation" to oversee the Department of Health.

Alas, it appears that Miller has not upped her own game and, according to the acerbic Letts: "What a milky-blancmange zone of nothingness her department has been under her so-called leadership."

Certainly, her impact in sport has been negligible.

That is, apart from one contribution, and an unpleasantly negative and vindictive one at that.

She personally put the kybosh on the recommended appointment of Baroness Tanni Grey-Thompson as chair of Sport England, thus embarrassing not only Tanni but also the Sports Minister and the Government. Not to mention herself.


Insiders allege it was a calculated act of revenge because the bold Baroness had dared to get the better of her in a row over disability benefits. Whatever, it was a shameful piece of political chicanery.

Isn't it time the Prime Minister, who sadly himself seems to care less about sport since the Olympic bandwagon stopped rolling, took the ball away from the hapless, hopeless Miller.

Her responsibilities range from fine art to football, from hi-tech communications to civic libraries, from historic houses to the National Lottery; her portfolio embraces tourism, gambling, architecture, fashion and the written and broadcast word.

I make no judgement on her capability as governess of such other accoutrements but as far as sport is concerned she is a dead loss.

Sport may well benefit at top level from a woman's touch but she is no Tessa Jowell or Kate Hoey.

I understand that lobby groups associated with some of those other elements, notably the arts and the media, share sport's disenchantment with her performance.

Miller is fortunate in that she has at her elbow a decent press office and Sports Minister who is rather good at his job. We should pray that it is one in which Hugh Robertson remains in any coming reshuffle, even if Miller loses hers.

It is a role I know he cherishes, and has turned down promotion in the past in order to keep.


These past few months Robertson has been wearing copious hats, engaged in matters other than sport, such as taking the lead role in promoting tourism; and significantly he was more prominent than Miller was in assisting the Prime Minister push through the Equalities Bill, legalising gay marriage.

It was her brief but curiously she was almost invisible during the debate.

Robertson continues to be highly regarded by David Cameron and may again soon be under pressure to take on a more substantial ministerial role.

Politics apart – and I have never voted for his party – he has my respect, as he knows sport and how it works across a wide spectrum. I think he has been one of Britain's best Sports Ministers.

One who is able enough to look after our sporting interest without the doubtful supervision of an ineffective boss way out of her depth.

Surely, after the impact of the Olympics, the Government must realise that sport's days in the political toy department have long gone.

It is now not only one of the biggest influences on society and national well-being but a major industry bringing in billions to the Exchequer.


As such, is it not time to give sports a full-blown ministerial department of its own, instead of lumping it in with culture, media and other bits of flotsam?

And to give the Sports Minister a seat in the Cabinet, as it happens in several other countries.

Successive Governments have shied away from doing so, though I hear it is an idea to which a future Labour administration will give serious consideration.

Hopefully, however, any future incumbent would be better qualified to be sport's parliamentary czar than the present shadow Culture, Media and Sport overlady Harriet Harman – about as much a sports buff as Miller.

Baroness Thompson is one name that springs to mind. What a delicious irony that would be.

Sport needs a strident voice in Downing Street, one that speaks rather more cogently on its behalf than Miller who, according to Mr Letts, "is the dud in the Cabinet".

Give Hugh Robertson the armband, PM.

For sport deserves better than this Miller's tale of woe.

Alan Hubbard is a sports columnist for The Independent on Sunday, and a former sports editor of The Observer. He has covered a total of 16 Summer and Winter Games, 10 Commonwealth Games, several football World Cups and world title fights from Atlanta to Zaire.

I was interested to learn that Anita DeFrantz is running for a seat on the International Olympic Committee's (IOC) Executive Board.

Ms DeFrantz was chairperson of the Election Committee responsible for supervising the procedure of the controversial Athletes' Commission election that took place at London 2012.

Two of the four candidates polling the most votes in this election -Koji Murofushi of Japan and Taiwan's Mu-yen Chu - were subsequently disqualified for alleged transgressions of the strict campaigning rules governing this contest.

Both appealed their exclusions to the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS) in Switzerland, which upheld the original rulings.

As regular readers will know, I followed Chu's case with particular care, even composing a witness statement and testifying verbally at CAS.

As I have written before, I think one must accept the CAS Panel's statement that the former Olympic taekwondo athlete was guilty of violations for "campaigning in an unauthorised area and for distributing name cards and showing various documents via a tablet computer".

Mu-yen Chu was disqualified from the IOC elections at London 2012 for, among other things, using a tablet computer to show voters his manifesto

Nonetheless, the affair has dented my faith in the Olympic Movement.

Here's one of the reasons why:

When the Executive Board announced on August 11 that it had approved the Election Committee's recommendation that Chu be withdrawn as a candidate, its statement noted that he had "first breached the Rules of Conduct by distributing gifts".

The Committee "sanctioned this breach by giving him a confidential written warning on 26 July 2012".

This warning, signed by Ms DeFrantz, starts by stating that Chu had been reminded "a couple of days ago" that the rules of conduct "do not allow you to distribute or display anything related to your candidature" for the election.

"Unfortunately", the warning goes on, "despite these alerts, we have heard that you may have continued to violate the rules by handing out lollipops to promote your candidature.

"This e-mail is to remind you once again, that any continuation of this activity will become a violation of the Rules of Conduct and that the Election Committee will take action."

While CAS upheld Chu's disqualification, when I read its so-called Arbitral Award in March 2013, I found that it did not find "sufficient evidence to confirm that Mr Chu distributed lollipops".

Indeed, "the indication of such action was contained only in an email of July 25, 2012, sent to the IOC by Ms Fiona de Jong of the Australian Olympic Committee...who had not herself seen Mr Chu distributing lollipops, but solely referred to information provided by other athletes.

"Such statement, itself second hand hearsay, was not confirmed at the hearing by any deposition or oral evidence."

It might be added that Ms de Jong's email does not name any of the Australian athletes, and that an Australian, James Tomkins, was among 21 candidates vying for the four Commission places.

Tomkins, indeed, secured election with the second-highest number of valid votes.

None of which is to say that the lollipop allegation was demonstrably mistaken - although Chu has always denied it vehemently.

But I think it is reasonable to argue, given the circumstances and the potential gravity of the consequences for the alleged lollipop distributor, that hard evidence of the supposed transgression should have been procured before mention of it was made in a written warning.

This is even though the choice of words allowed for the possibility that the allegation might be unfounded.


In fairness to Ms DeFrantz, she was advised by an IOC official, whose duties included monitoring the campaign and who had twice had cause to remind Chu not to display election materials, that "a letter should go on behalf of you as soon as possible".

With the Games in full swing, this would also have been a busy period to say the least.

I suppose it is even conceivable that evidence was gathered, but why would you not then present it to CAS?

The IOC, though, is the most powerful body in world sport.

It is important that its top brass be able consistently to make wise decisions under sometimes intense pressure.

In my opinion, issuing a written warning using those words without seemingly having physical or first-hand oral evidence that the IOC was prepared, if necessary, to present to CAS to support the lollipop allegation was not a wise decision.

David Owen worked for 20 years for the Financial Times in the United States, Canada, France and the UK. He ended his FT career as sports editor after the 2006 World Cup and is now freelancing, including covering the 2008 Beijing Olympics, the 2010 World Cup and London 2012. To follow him on Twitter click here.

The fascinating thing about the race between Buenos Aires, Glasgow and Medellín for the 2018 Summer Youth Olympic Games is that not many of the International Olympic Committee (IOC) members who will vote on where the event will be staged have given the contest much thought.

That is no criticism of the busy IOC members - simply a reflection of the fact that there are so many major bid races in the Olympic Movement this year which take prominence over the 2018 Youth Olympics.

They are race to host the 2020 Olympics and Paralympics(between Istanbul, Madrid and Tokyo, the contest to appear at the 2020 Olympics between baseball/softball, squash and wrestling and, of course, the most important one to the IOC members, the six-way battle to succeed Jacques Rogge as IOC President, between Thomas Bach, Ng Ser Miang, C K Wu, Richard Carrión, Denis Oswald and Sergey Bubka,

All three of those major decisions will be decided at the 125th IOC Session in Buenos Aires this September in a gathering that will define the direction the Olympic Movement takes over the next decade.

But the decision on where the 2018 Youth Olympics will be held will take place two months earlier – on July 4 at the IOC Extraordinary Session in Lausanne.

It may actually be only during the key presentations staged just before the vote that the IOC members start seriously thinking about whether they want the event to go to Argentina, Britain or Colombia.

But those members with more than a passing interest in the race will have noted the report on the three cities published last week by the IOC Evaluation Commission for the event.

The Commission, chaired by Germany's IOC Executive Board member Claudia Bokel, released a report showing that both Glasgow and Medellín presented "minimal risk to the IOC" if they were are selected to stage the competition.

Doubts, though, were raised over Buenos Aires – specifically over the Argentinian capital's funding and related guarantees underpinning the bid.

The IOC claimed that they could not accept any minimum payment clause to the National Olympic Committee, as included in Buenos Aires' marketing agreement - a minimum payment guarantee of $900,000 (£588,000/€688,000).

The report forced immediate action from Buenos Aires, who quickly responded by saying they have now all financial guarantees and commitments in place, including the Government of the City of Buenos Aires taking full responsibility to cover any potential financial shortfalls.

But the embarrassing setback now leaves Buenos Aires behind their rivals at this late crucial stage, particularly given that there were also doubts expressed about their proposed dates of September 11 to 23, which is the start of their spring when the temperature is only 12 degrees on average.

Glasgow will be pleased with their report however. The one minor problem was concerns over its proposed sponsorship target of $41 million (£27 million/€31 million), 13 per cent of the total budget.

The Evaluation Commission called the target "optimistic" - and, even though the Scottish Government and the City Council have promised to meet any shortfall in the budget, "the split of responsibilities has not been clearly identified".

The minor criticism will be an annoyance rather than a problem for the Scottish city.

But in the third camp, Medellín will be delighted as the publication of the report suggests that the original dark-horse for the 2018 Youth Olympics could perhaps now be considered the favourites.

The chief play in their bid strategy is their remarkable story.

As far as followers of British sport are concerned, 2013 has so far proved to be a reality checkpoint.

Less than a year on from the heady glories of the London 2012 Games, many of the home icons from that unforgettable summer are experiencing one of sport's essential truths: the problem with winning is that people expect you to keep on doing it.

Thus in Eugene, Oregon last week, Mo Farah made the headlines in failing to win the 5,000 metres as he made his IAAF Diamond League season's debut in his home-town event. The double Olympic champion managed a season's best time of 13min 05.88sec, but Kenya's Edwin Soi finished just over a second ahead of him.

In the same event last year, which came shortly before the Olympics, the Londoner had won in a time of 12:56.98, the fastest time ever run in the United States. There were mitigating circumstances. Farah had been suffering from a stomach virus in preceding weeks and had made the late decision to switch from the 10,000m on the previous day in order to give himself an extra chance to rest.

But the headlines around the world told a harsh story - Farah suffers first outdoor defeat since 2011. And Soi's victory underlined the fact that, for those who have reached the peak of their event, the world becomes full of those eager to prove a point. For Farah, maintaining a grip on two events which seethe with African talent is an enormous challenge.

Mo Farah in Eugene last week en route to his first track defeat since 2011

Last summer, the words Dave, Weir and London meant only one thing: gold. But despite his insistence before this year's Virgin London Marathon, where he was seeking to go one better than the record of six wheelchair victories which he shares with fellow Briton Tanni Grey-Thompson, that he was in better shape than he had been at the same stage in the previous year, Weir's final surge in the Mall proved insufficient as four others moved past him, headed by his old bête noire Kurt Fearnley.

Weir insisted he would "bounce back." Farah tweeted a couple of hours after his race in the heartland of his sponsors, Nike: "I'll be back for sure." No doubt both are correct. But for both, the magic spell of 2012 has been broken.

As it has, indeed, for the man who could do no wrong last year - Sir Bradley Wiggins. For those who lauded his achievements in becoming the first Briton to win the Tour de France and following up with gold in the Olympic time trial, the twists and turns of Wiggins' fortunes in 2012 have been painful to witness.

Choosing to focus on the Giro d'Italia rather than the Tour seemed, when it was announced, like a pretty cool move. Why not gather the only remaining big title missing?

But Wiggins is too much of a champion to restrict his ambitions, and before long the 33-year-old was making it clear that he fancied defending his Tour title, and doing so as Team Sky's top rider - a position which appeared to have been promised to the fellow Brit who had worked with the rest of the team on his behalf in 2012, Chris Froome.

While the 28-year-old Kenyan-born rider's labours on his team's behalf were impressive last year, there was a clear and growing sense that payback would be required - Froome at the Top.

When the Wiggins ground to a halt in the Giro, being forced to pull out with a chest infection and an underlying knee problem it was bad enough. But the coup de grace came within a fortnight, when it was confirmed that he was not in sufficient shape to ride the Tour anyway.

That saved much awkwardness, as the Team Sky general manager Dave Brailsford - Wiggins's old Olympic boss - had proved as unrelenting in his pragmatism as his rowing counterpart, Jurgen Grobler, in nominating the younger rider for the lead position at the Tour.

Sir Bradley Wiggins, ill and injured, failing to enjoy the rainswept Giro d'Italia before pulling out last month

The message from Wiggins - "I'll get this sorted" - carries the same defiance as those from Farah and Weir. And who would bet against him doing so? But again, the magic has been dispelled.

How do you avoid that harsh experience? Well, Wiggins's former Olympic team-mate and fellow knight of the realm, Chris Hoy, chose the only certain method. Having added another couple of golds in London to the four he had already collected at previous Olympic Games, the 37-year-old Scot retired.

While his announcement in April, eight months on from his London victories, may have disappointed the organisers of the Glasgow 2014 Commonwealth Games - who hoped he would provide one last hurrah on home soil at the new velodrome named after him - it was clearly thoroughly considered.

Hoy elected to leave on a high. It's a fine strategy. Perhaps its finest exponent was the Australian, Herb Elliott, who retired aged 24 in 1962 having been unbeaten at the mile and 1500m since 1957. He left the sport as world record holder at both distances, and as Olympic champion.

Herb Elliott stays ahead of all opposition to win the 1960 Olympic 1500m gold in Rome

Elliott's record is perfect, and you can't improve upon perfection. But you can extend it. Which is what Usain Bolt is trying to do.

Today, the man who retained his Olympic 100 and 200m titles in London takes his first serious steps in seeking to maintain his pre-eminence at this summer's IAAF World Championships in Moscow as he runs in the Diamond League 100m at the Olympic Stadium in Rome where Elliott effectively bowed out of top class competition.

At the age of 26 - how can he only be 26??? - the ever-amiable Jamaican superstar has announced he intends to remain the fastest man on the planet up to and including the 2016 Rio Olympics. It's quite some ambition for a man who, after his startling breakthrough at the 2008 Beijing Games, spoke fondly about getting a job where he could put his feet up and take things easy.

Usain Bolt celebrates his third gold of the London 2012 Olympics after anchoring Jamaica to victory in the sprint relay in a world record of 36.84sec

Bolt's record fall short of the Elliott Standard in terms of infallibility - he was beaten by Tyson Gay over 100m in 2010, he was disqualified for false-starting in the 100m at the last World Championships in Daegu, and, a few months before retaining his Olympic titles, had suffered a potentially demoralising defeat on home soil by the younger compatriot who had taken that world 100m title, Yohan Blake.

But these are blips in a passage of glory. Now that Tiger Woods has dipped away from the heights he once occupied, Bolt is probably the most pressurised individual sportsman in the world - pressurised, that is, by the expectation he has created himself by his excellence.

The latest challenger to his brilliance - the ever-talkative American Justin Gatlin, back in the sport after a lengthy doping ban - stands ready to apply the dimmer switch in Rome.

Given Bolt's year so far - victory at the Cayman Invitational event on May 9 in 10.09, his slowest ever 100m time, following early-season hamstring problems - this might be an opportunity for his 31-year-old opponent, who ran 9.88 at the Eugene meeting where Farah was eclipsed, to impose what would no doubt be a gleefully celebrated coup.

If that happens, you can be sure there will be a defiant message emanating from Bolt of the kind already offered by Farah, Weir and Wiggins. But first, Gatlin has to find a way of beating him. And that, as a generation of sprinters can testify, is beyond elusive.

Mike Rowbottom, one of Britain's most talented sportswriters, covered the London 2012 Olympics and Paralympics as chief feature writer for insidethegames, having covered the previous five summer Games, and four winter Games, for The Independent. He has worked for the Daily Mail, The Times, The Observer, The Sunday Correspondent and The Guardian. To follow him on Twitter click here.

With the Summer Universiade, the festival of college sports, occurring this July in Kazan, Russia, the national Korean team, at the Taereung training centre, is in full training mode.

Even though I have experienced many international events such as the World Championships, Asian Games, and Olympics, this upcoming Universiade has a special meaning for me.

It is the first Universiade that I will be taking part in as a university student, and I also have the huge responsibility of fulfilling my position as the honorary ambassador of the next host city, 2015 Gwangju Universiade. Many talented Russian gymnasts are expected to participate in the Kazan Universiade which will provide a high level of competition.

The Universiade is a competition event held biannually and with the participants being amateur college athletes between the ages 17 to 28, it can be called a commercial-free Olympics. Since professional athletes are not eligible to participate, it creates an atmosphere of genuine sports spirit, as well as providing a scene of global friendship and unity between the young athletes from around the world.

I believe the Universiade has always played an important role in the history of Korean sports by discovering new star athletes as well as providing the opportunity for rookie athletes to advance globally. Korea first became associated with the Summer Universiade in 1959 at the first Games, held in Turin.


The first Korean gold medal came from the women's basketball team in the fifth Tokyo Summer Universiade, in 1967, just eight years later. This preceded the gold medal won by wrestler, Yang Jung-Mo at the Montreal Olympics, in 1976, and is recorded as the first gold medal that came out of a Summer Olympiad for the Korean team.

Universiade is especially meaningful to Korean gymnastics, as Korea's legendary gymnast Yeo Hong-Chul won the very first Korean gold medal in gymnastics at the Sheffield Summer Universiade in 1991. He continued his winning streak with a silver medal at the Buffalo Summer Universiade in 1993, another silver medal at the Atlanta Olympics in 1996, and a gold medal at the Bangkok Asian Games in 1998, bringing a great change to the history of gymnastics in Korea.

Also, at the 2003 Daegu Universiade, Yang Tae-Young won four gold medals in the team and individual events, winning the most medals and becoming the biggest star of the Games.

The Universiade has become a stage for many athletes to make a name for themselves. Canada's Ben Johnson in athletics, Russia's Chou Chou Nova and Romania's Nadia Comăneci in gymnastics are some names that have graced the Universiade as well as Korean national marathon hero, Hwang Young-cho, who won at Sheffield in 1991 and the following year, in Barcelona, claimed the Olympic gold medal.


The 2015 Gwangju Summer Universiade, which will be held in two years time, will serve as a stage for young athletes to develop and advance globally. The rookies wishing to make an international profile through the Gwangju Universiade, as well as those wishing to advance to the Rio Olympics in 2016, are putting their full effort in training at the Taereung training centre and preparing for the moment to shine a light on their passion and youth.

For the athletes to fully perform at the best of their ability and compete with worldwide athletes in Gwangju, construction of infrastructure, development of talented athletes, and continued support and attention from the public is necessary.

As a participant of the Kazan Universiade and an honorary ambassador of the 2015 Gwangju Universiade, I am excited to see whether another star athlete will be born through the future Universiades. I hope that through the 2015 Gwangju Universiade, Korea, as well as the whole world, has the opportunity to write a new chapter in the history of sports.

It was with an air of genuine anticipation that I headed to a chic bar on London's Aldwych to meet the man who would be boss of world cycling.

Brian Cookson, 62 in a couple of weeks, should have plenty in his favour in his forthcoming joust with Pat McQuaid, the incumbent International Cycling Union (UCI) President.

It is hard to dispute that the credibility of world cycling's present leadership is at a particularly low ebb.

Cookson, meanwhile, has presided at British Cycling over a resurrection to rank with the most remarkable in world sport - seemingly demonstrating in the process that drug-free success, even dominance, is possible in a drug-addled sphere.


And yet I left the briefing far from convinced that the former executive director of regeneration at Pendle Borough Council has what it is likely to take to emerge victorious from the all-important election in Florence in September.

I hope I am wrong – and this is very much a superficial impression, not one built up over decades of close scrutiny of the ins and outs of cycling politics – but I walked out of the meeting wondering whether, nice guy though he obviously is, Cookson possesses the toughness or tactical nous typically needed to prevail in tussles for the top seats in global sports administration.

This can be a harsh and bruising world, as Paul King, another likeable Englishman, discovered when he ran for the Presidency of AIBA, the international boxing association.

I wasn't even completely convinced that this was a challenge that Cookson wanted, in his bones, to mount.

The official announcement of his candidacy stated, slightly oddly, that Cookson was "willing to offer himself" as a candidate for the UCI Presidency.

I wouldn't necessarily read too much into that; these formal statements can seem stilted.

But it hardly makes it sound as though this is an opportunity he relishes, or a destiny he has been preparing all his life to fulfil.

It also bothers me that Cookson, in spite of spending 17 years as President, receives so little credit for the extraordinary success story that is British Cycling.

This may not be true inside cycling, but if you asked the typical armchair sports fan who was responsible for the sport's revival, I doubt that Cookson's name would be among the first dozen mentioned.


You may feel that this is both as it should be and the inexorable fate of decent, competent sports administrators.

That may be so, but there is no way that the real masters of the craft of sports politics would let such an outstanding feat pass by without securing for themselves a large chunk of the credit.

Having said all that, it could be that the timing is right and that world cycling is ready for a dose of the sort of uncomplicated wholesomeness that Cookson appears to represent.

I jotted down four or five sentences from the briefing to build up a picture of the ground the British challenger is seeking to occupy.

Brian Cookson says he is "just a guy who got involved in cycling because I loved the sport"