It was emotionally draining, incredulity rising as the reality of the situation became apparent. One Day in September, Kevin McDonald's Oscar winning documentary screened on BBC 2 during the week, had been deleted from the video tape, in its place a double episode of Big Brother. A household in turmoil, marital disharmony rife but fortunately a perilous predicament was redeemed by the prescience of others.

One Day in September offered a compelling, educational insight into two days in which sport and politics became embroiled at the 1972 Munich Olympics. People of a certain vintage may recall the passage of events with differing clarity but for the those who were not born or enjoying pre-teenage years, this documentary would have offered a remarkable freshness, fleshing out a piece of history.

The images were incredibly powerful from the pictures of the gun totting, hooded members of the Black September gang on a balcony in the athletes quarters at the Olympic village, the Palestinian terrorists having taken Israeli athletes hostage, to the quiet dignity of the daughter of Israeli fencing coach Andre Spitzer.

She searched for the grave of a father she never knew, perusing his headstone and that of the other athletes killed. Her mother, Andre's Dutch born wife, Ankie, spoke of how he had almost missed the train that would take him to his death, details that would humanise the tragedy. McDonald beautifully mixed the tales of those present at various stages of the siege with the television broadcasts of the time.

The presence of Jamal al Gashey, the only surviving member of the Black September gang that perpetrated the atrocities, cast a harder edge to the documentary, thrusting forward a non PC perspective, bartering his background and ideological standpoint against his actions.

The bungling of the German authorities, the intransigence of Israeli Prime Minster Golda Meir, the ruthlessness of the terrorists, the claustrophobic tension of the impasse and finally the suicidal, crass incompetence of the denouement guaranteed riveting television.

It resembled Mount Everest in a week where the sporting television content rarely scrambled above drumlin status.

Wednesday's documentary on Mick Galwey, the Shannon, Munster, Ireland and Lions second row was more noteworthy for the contribution of his wife Joan and baby daughter Nessa, the undoubted stars of the documentary. Richard Harris and JB Keane amongst others offered their tuppence worth on the amiable Kerryman but it was the pictures of Joan and Nessa watching the Heineken European Cup Final against Northampton at Twickenham that provided more powerful television.

Galwey is an excellent ambassador for his sport, in parts a prankster, a leader, an inspiration, a player of immense heart and drive: in short, extremely likeable. The eulogies, while deserved, though failed to eclipse the pictures of Joan watching her husband sin binned in the final and their pitchside reunion at the final whistle.

The Galwey fare was light years ahead of the GAA advertorial, Up for the Match, a mishmash of banalities, Irish dancing and music, and the lazy adherence to a jaded formula in the context of a couple of items on the programme. Mary Kennedy must have wondered what she did to offend anyone at RTE, having been thrust into the anchor's role.

Her customary professionalism was evident but given that the programme appeared heavily scripted it was therefore stilted. It relies on the contributions of the audience to elevate it above a cliched preview of the All Ireland Hurling Final.

One programme with a little more bite, albeit unexpected, was Sky Sports coverage of the two mens' semi-finals and the Women's final at the US Open Tennis Championships at Flushing Meadow.

Russia's Marat Safin easily swept past the ageing and mummified Todd Martin while Australian prodigy Leyton Hewitt should have extended Pete Sampras a great deal further than the three sets that constituted their clash. Hewitt enjoyed one great opportunity to win the first set, his serve forcing a weak return and from inside the service box he somehow swept a forehand into the tramlines.

Sampras duly won the tie-break, the second set and recovered from a break down in the third as Hewitt was limited to occasional chest thumping and clenched fist salutes. Pam Shriver was on hand to interview Sampras afterwards courtside, complete with the usual fawning questions. When she mentioned the attendant President Bill Clinton, watching the match from a corporate vantage-point, booing rocked the stadium.

Sampras, normally so placid, was moved to remark: "Ah, come on give it a rest," before admitting that he would happily give Clinton any tennis lessons he required.