In Moscow these past few days Yuri has been driving me hither and thither. The usual deal. I give him dollars. In the "old times", as Yuri calls the Soviet era, Yuri didn't just drive a car, he was the Danny de Vito type character for a 1,000 car fleet run by the city. Always busy dispatching drivers here and there. Long days, lots of stress. During the Moscow 1980 Olympics, two good things happened to Yuri though. He got a signed photo of himself with Theofilo Stevenson, and then later Yuri's boss noticed that he wasn't looking so good. Yuri, not Theofilo.

The boss sent Yuri on holiday. No ordinary holiday. He was sent to the beach with a secretary. You can tell right off that Yuri wasn't working for Aer Lingus.

"One month," says Yuri. "I am just swimming and making the love. One month. Lost 30 kilos. Boom!"

Yuri is unsure as to whether the secretary lost any weight, he will only roll his eyes when asked about her. That's because things went boom when Yuri got home to his wife. He almost lost more than his 30 kilos. Yet he is still proud of his verbal defence when asked by his wife why she couldn't at least have come along for the sun and the sand.

"I tell her. I am going to the restaurant. I do not bring my sandwiches!"

Yuri is one of the few people I have ever met who has unreserved enthusiasm for Juan Antonio Samaranch, a man who in most key matters owns the restaurant, rings a hamper anyway and then phones for take-out.

Samaranch is popular in Moscow. His reign began here, and, in what has been a week of historical symmetries Olympics-wise, it will end here this morning. Whispering cities like this are home ground for Samaranch.

That he leaves behind an Olympic Games for China and that Canada should have lost out in the process is one of the little-remarked aspects of the current business. China was the issue on which Samaranch cut his teeth on back in the seventies 1970s when the Olympic movement was tearing itself apart over whether to favour the People's Republic of China or Taiwan.

Although China didn't rejoin the IOC until 1984, there was discussion before the Montreal Games of inviting a team and re-recognising Taiwan. At the 1975 congress the issue was argued bitterly but no decision was taken. Canada, however, had a one-China policy and recognised the People's Republic as the sole representative of all Chinese people. The Canadians implacably declined to accept a Taiwanese team that had the word China in its name or one that marched under a Chinese flag.

The IOC was mortified. Some members argued for the cancellation of the Games. The US considered withdrawal. The TV contract for the Games came under threat. Finally, the late Lord Killanin seemed to have negotiated a compromise whereby the Taiwanese would compete as Taiwan (rather than as Taiwan-Republic of China as they wished) but could keep their own flag and anthem. Taiwan declined and eventually packed their bags and left the day before the Games.

The controversy dragged on at IOC level and threatened to come up before the Moscow Games. At the 1978 congress in Athens, Juan Antonio Samaranch (then the Spanish Ambassador to Moscow) made his first big play, announcing the results of his own expedition to Beijing which had led him to conclude that the People's Republic of China must be recognised by the IOC whatever the cost. It didn't sway things, but it announced Juan Antonio as a man of intentions.

It also began a long and mutually satisfying relationship with China. Samaranch, now the president, got the People's Republic to the starting gate in 1984 for the LA Games, but was alarmed to see them get nervous and begin talk of boycott when the US granted asylum to the tennis star Hu Na. Samaranch smoothed the waters. China came to Los Angeles.

He has been there for Beijing ever since and, just as crucially for his own survival, he has made sure to be there for lots of other nations which are "difficult" politically. When people wonder why the IOC doesn't respond to matter issues in the way, for instance, the US Congress, for instance, does - well, it's because Juan Antonio Samaranch has put it together that way, through patronage and politics.

It may be an old boys club, but most people miss two points about it. First, it's an old boys club which reflects a different kind of global political reality, one where the white, Anglo-Saxon sensibility is recessive. Secondly, countries don't have members in the IOC, the IOC has members (or ambassadors) in countries.

This (usually) loyal fiefdom has worked the magic for Samaranch over the years. He grasped something which the gentle Anglos before him could never have imagined. If he could keep the politics in line by being smarter than the average bear, well, then he had something good to sell and the better he sold it the more the importance of the Olympic movement would self-perpetuate.

Thus he keeps everything in balance and he keeps global politics at bay by being better at it than almost anyone else. He can take $3.5 billion from NBC and put the Games in Beijing, which doesn't suits NBC. He'll say: It's the sponsors' turn, they stump $70 million per quadrennial and they'll shake out the loose change to fill every ad space NBC has available anyway. Everyone wins. It was ever thus. Juan Antonio initially refloated the Games by opening up the Soviet bloc and large portions of Asia for Adidas. In exchange, the gave marketing clout through ISL. Now, look how big the pupil has grown.

Samaranch's triumph has been to deliver a market under the umbrella of sport. Almost the whole world competed in Sydney. Only 81 countries competed in Moscow and 88 in Montreal. The cost to sport's dignity and integrity has been high.

This morning, regretfully, I remove the phrase "Samaranch, a former fascist politician under Franco" from the save-get key on my computer. Yuri says he will miss him, but Yuri misses the "old times". Me? Like most hacks, I'll miss having Juan Antonio to kick around in three or four columns a year.