Poodle Clipping, Paris Olympics 1900.

For the Paris Olympics, Call Me Old-Fashioned [What, again?—Ed.] but I mainly favour the traditional sports, like tennis (Nadalcaraz together in doubles?! WOW) and football—easing the withdrawal symptoms after the Euros (for which I crafted wonderful folk playlists) and Wimbledon.

You had to be quick to catch the Rugby 7s, not just because the tournament began and ended early, but because the matches don’t last long (although how long seems to be a closely-guarded secret). It’s glorious because it’s basically running around like fuck and scoring loads of tries, dispensing with much of Rugby Union’s boring faff like falling over on top of each other, set-pieces, trying to work out arcane rules, and all that pompous cerebral preparation to kick a conversion.

Gradually, with the essential aid of expert commentary, one gets drawn into the more niche activities—like Beermat Flipping, Treacle Volleyball, Malteser Shot-Putting, Bonzai Flatpack Assembly, and Synchronised Underwater Hamster Dressage.

Another popular event is The Sound of One Hand Clapping, in which Japan still has a monopoly. The Chinese, not really perpetuating the Daoist tradition of wuwei non-action, now excel at Lying Flat 躺平, but their governing body doesn’t seem keen to get it ratified by the Olympic Committee.

Monty Python got there first with such fantasy:

As to the relay, here’s Mark Simmons:

I love the Olympics. My friend and I invented a new type of relay baton. Well, he came up with the idea, I ran with it.

And turning to table tennis, allow me to remind you of this fine headline:

King Kong Ping-Pong Sing-Song Ding-Dong

See also under A sporting medley: ritual and gender. As I have noted, my viewing stats from WordPress * somewhat resemble a fantasy Olympic medals table:

* You may be as dismayed as I am that these stats have begun to address me as “Howdy, StephenJones.blog”. Another sign of The End of Civilisation As We Know It…