Those Olympic Opening Titles Explained

What were they thinking? The BBC apparently forgot that being the jewel in the crown of the metaphorical 'crown jewels' of Sport Broadcasting, the Olympic Games were up to them to deliver in glorious technicolour.

Or so it would seem from the frankly bizarre opening titles which display Monkey, Sandy and Pigsy (the least athletic of the three) on a perilous journey to the Bird's Nest stadium. The titles were actually the work of the team behind animated band, the Gorillaz. Damon Albarn (of Blur fame) wrote the music and his mate Jamie Hewlett penned the characters, no doubt at hideous cost to the licence-payer.

Still, better to have what BBC marketing called a "commitment to truly groundbreaking creative work" than, oh, I don't know, a classy stream of vintage Olympic moments, or a representation of more than six of the Olympic sports. Great Britain have currently shown special prowess in cycling, rowing and sailing but not once does Monkey get on his bike, Sandy seems never to contemplate a quick stint in the dingy and as for Pigsy, well, he'd sink your average double-scull.

So, what do they all mean? (In order of appearance)

Pigsy: is clearly the brawn of the operation. And it is he who dismisses One Eyed monster (see below) for good with a well executed hammer throw. Err, except his expertise appear also to lie in pole vault and high bar. Perhaps 2008 is the Chinese year of the pig then. No, that came and went in 2007. One gets the feeling that Pigsy takes shit from no man. He is the symbol of China's bloody minded determination to make these games a success.

One Eyed Monster: Looks to be the finest sprinter on show and despite not being given a good lane draw is bearing down hard on Monkey. One suspects that One Eyed Monster is the symbol of defeat. Thus, among other things, Monkey is victory, snatched from the jaws of defeat in order that he might ride away speedily on his cloud. Now if that isn't technological doping, I don't know what is.

Big snake: Massive intimidatory presence and global menace. Could be representative of international doping scandals.

Monkey: Hero of the piece. Well drilled sprinter, champion cloud rider and fine javelin thrower. Monkey saves the day with a quite remarkable javelin throw which lodges between the sharp teeth of One Eyed Monster after demonstrating a curious judo-cum-Graeco-Roman-wrestling manouevre which frees him from apparently pointless giant egg. Symbol of good overcoming adversity and evil. A bit like watching an Ethiopian marathon runner limp home through Chinese smog.

Sandy: Swimming and diving maestro. Token humanoid in a world of animalian champions and worthy claimant of champagne moment when, matrix-style, he delivers a bone-shuddering roundhouse kick to the face of Big Snake. Sandy is the people's hero for the people's republic.

Professional atheletes,amateur commentary

There is nothing quite like amateur commentary to ruin a decent highlights package. There sat the very tidy Gabby Logan putting together an equally tidy edition of Games Today on the BBC, and well, what a day it had been for team GB. Chris Hoy had raced to victory in the men's sprint, Victoria Pendleton had done exactly the same for the girls, a very polite Jamaican named Germaine Mason had won high-jump silver for Great Britain and Christine Ohuruogu had slugged her way through the 400 metres final to win a gold that glittered almost as brightly as her smile.

It was yet another day to savour, that is until Mrs Logan invited Christine Ohuruogu to commentate on the closing stages of her final. "What was going through your mind at this point?" she asked as VT rolled. Nothing. Silence. Then loud rustling noises as Ohuruogo fondles her gold medal which is clearly hanging next to her microphone. "Err. I don't know really", Ohuruogo muses no doubt to handwringing and headshaking behind camera.

When the Olympic champion does eventually manage to string together a sentence or two to describe her race it transpires that she's telling us how well she ran in the semi-finals. Pity the BBC had only cued up VT for today, the greatest minute of Ohuruogo's career, and not the previous day's race then.

Perhaps Mr Mason would be more illuminative. In honour of his trip to the studio, the work experience kid had been forced to climb into the rafters of the studio and affix a sticker at 2 metres 34 centimeters up to show just how high our athlete had leapt to claim silver. Surely the least Mason could offer would be a brief description of how long his legs felt as he approached the bar, or perhaps his impressions of the conditions underfoot in the Bird's Nest.

Nope. Roll VT. More embarassing silence. Oh, hang on, that sounds like Gabby giving Mason a quick kick to remind him that he's commentating here. "Well, me coach told me to..." Too late, Germaine. You had your chance, we've got to cut to a set piece showing Matthew Pinsent at the beach volleyball. Still, thanks for the gold medal and thanks for coming in. We're all very proud of you. Perhaps stick to jumping over bars and not through hoops.