If you can't stand the kitsch get out of the heat

OLYMPIC TV VIEW: DON'T YOU just love the Games? The boys rollicking around on the gym mat in the Graeco-Roman wrestling; the…

OLYMPIC TV VIEW:DON'T YOU just love the Games? The boys rollicking around on the gym mat in the Graeco-Roman wrestling; the tight, red-and-blue comfort of the unisex spandex in the weightlifting; the rhinestone and eye shadow of the gymnasts (Digression: do we still describe them as elfin as in the spritely, fairy-like, elfin Russian Olga Korbut and not sturdy rubber balls of muscle?).

Then there are all of the ropes and rigging, the leather and tethering of the gym equipment, not to mention the rubber corsetting of the body-suited swimmers, the mummified fencers.

Sometimes the Olympics can look like a blend of unseemly things, part the Chelsea dungeons favoured by the Formula One boss Max Mosley, a touch of Strictly Come Dancing and quite a bit of Eurovision Song Contest.

Kitsch, perhaps, is the word. Olympic kitsch. A Mount Vesuvius of emotion bursting out all over the place. The hugging, the drama, the tears and yesterday the huddle of four anxious Australian swimmers - Stephanie Rice, Bronte Barratt, Kylie Palmer and Linda Mackenzie - after the 4x200 metres freestyle final. A confirmed gold medal and they filled up quicker than the tennis venue in a Beijing thunderstorm. It can take you away, the Olympics, make you think strange thoughts very early in the morning.

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Then you hear Jimmy Magee's voice.

Is there anything quite like the voice of the Memory Man to bring you home? Hear one of Jimmy's immortal lines - wherever on planet earth you happen to be - and you are back home watching the Angelus sequence on RTÉ and listening to the summer rain beating against the window.

"If he went on What's My Line? (the television show where contestants had to guess a stranger's profession), you'd never guess he was a boxer," offered Jimmy about the unscathed faced of our eight-times national champion and serious medal contender Kenny Egan, before adding, "whereas, his opponent looks like he's been hit by a truck."

Let's state this straight up. There is no spandex of any hue in boxing or on any of the lads down in the Workers Gymnasium. But there was a strong suspicion yesterday morning when watching Egan's mastery in the light heavyweight division that some of the judges had fallen asleep - that or their squeeze fingers or electronic buttons had malfunctioned.

We have the benefit of replays but remain mystified, befuddled and concerned. Can someone explain the mystery of how boxing is scored? Yes, yes, three judges have to press buttons more or less simultaneously - within a second - to register a score. But - heavens to Murgatroyd! - how could it be that Egan's opponent, Bahram Muzaffer, a plucky and aggressive Turk, was deemed not to have scored a single point in the entire second half of their four-round bout?

Jim Neilly on the BBC's Olympic Breakfast pointedly referred to a clean punch that landed on Egan as the scoreboard remained unmoved. Back in Dublin our gold medallist from Barcelona 1992 also noticed the aberration.

"He might feel a bit aggrieved," observed Michael Carruth. "I don't think he scored a point from the second round."

But the team in the studio of RTÉ's Olympics AM were steadfastly upbeat and stoking expectations for Egan.

"If he boxes like that again, he'll win easily, maybe inside the distance," said the Limerick middleweight with the matinee-idol looks Andy Lee.

"There's really more to follow here," added Carruth.

"Should he win here I think he'll be hot money to win a medal," offered Jimmy even before the fight was over.

"Ken is captain and I hope that's a good omen because I was the team captain in 1992," added Carruth, making the link between omens, luck, chance and whatever the judges are having themselves.

It wasn't all celebration for our boxers. John Joe Joyce would suffer agonising defeat on countback later in the day.

At around coffee-and-croissant time - 9.30am - the curtains were drawn and Nuala Carey, RTÉ's weather girl, presented us with a familiar scene, an apocalyptic digital image of clouds and lightning, this time gathering over Beijing. Moving farther south to Quingdao she had good news and bad news. The sun was shining on the sailing venue. Hurrah! But there was no wind. Bah!

On the BBC Hazel Irvine and Nicky Campbell cut to water-polo action, Irvine grimly pointing out here was one sport that went according to schedule even if softball, tennis, baseball and kayaking were washed out. "It's a mass of kicking and biting all under the water," she observed in an excited "I'll 'ave a bit of that" tone.

Campbell glanced at her sheepishly and said, "I think I'll nip over to the Graeco-Roman wrestling."