A study in Scotland produced in recent weeks has found how coaches can play an important role in influencing the choices of athletes for or against doping in sport. 

The study, commissioned by the World Anti Doping Agency (WADA) and undertaken at the University of Stirling, found that Scotland's excellent anti-doping record is heavily linked to coaches' attitudes, but also found they do not have as much influence as perhaps they should.

It certainly raises an interesting point regarding both the influences an athlete faces regarding doping and the role of a coach in professional sport today.

To a young athlete at least, the role and influence of a coach is fairly obvious. A coach is a figure of authority, someone you look up to and consider a hub of information and expertise on that given sport. They do not just help you develop as an athlete but as a person as well and in many cases play a role rather like a second mother or father-like figure.

So if bad habits are introduced at this young stage - as they were, for example, in the state sponsored East German system of the Cold War era - it seems unlikely that an aspiring sportsman is going to have the knowledge, experience or foresight to resist temptation.

An interesting comparison is if I, as a young journalist starting out my career at insidethegames last year, had entered an environment where phone hacking is rife and is practised and encouraged by all the senior writers and editors who I look up to, how would I have reacted? Especially if I was convinced that it was both morally and legally acceptable?

The July before last, I was lucky enough to visit the Lee Valley White Water Centre as it played host to an exciting Olympic canoe slalom competition.

I was back in London's northern suburbs last week as the centre reopened for a 2014 season that includes three days of World Cup action, following completion of a £6.3 million post-Olympic development project.

Now incorporating GB Canoeing's slalom national performance centre, it is a Rolls-Royce facility and no mistake, described by Albert Woods, the British Canoe Union chairman, as "the best slalom venue in the world".

The elite British canoeists who turned out for the reopening are plainly highly appreciative and thrilled to bits.

London 2012 silver medallist Richard Hounslow said the centre was being "future-proofed" and predicted that GB Canoeing would be there for years to come.

Given that it also affords the opportunity for families in the densely-populated south-east of England to enjoy thrilling white-water rafting rides without breaking the bank and may attract talented youngsters into the sport, this looks like an exciting example of Olympic legacy in action. Right?

The Lee Valley White Water Centre does, up to a point, look like an exciting example of Olympic legacy in action ©Getty Images



Well, up to a point. I do think the London 2012 project has been extremely well thought-through and executed.

As such, it probably represents as good an example of white-water legacy planning as we are ever likely to see.

But I still wonder about the wisdom of an Olympic factory that all but decrees that one of these expensive marvels of modern engineering should be erected somewhere in the world every four years.

Unlike many Olympic sports, that can take place in multi-purpose venues such as exhibition centres, which are relatively cheap to build and easy to find post-Games uses for, a canoe slalom course is extremely specialised.

It is also energy-intensive: as a man from the Atkins engineering and design consultancy once explained to me, it requires 15 cubic metres a second of water to be pumped through the course.

That is like 60 bath-fulls every second of an event, which must make for substantial running costs.

Water is not something the course is lacking, needing plenty to keep it ticking over ©Getty Images



Now London's dense, affluent population means that the Lee Valley centre can probably count on high demand.

But not every Olympic host will come with such a promising post-Games market to tap; it is hard to imagine that Rio will, for example, though Tokyo may be better placed.

Even London would be hard-pressed to make such a facility pay, at least in its current format incorporating the elite performance centre, if the capital cost of building it had to be financed and repaid.

Shaun Dawson, chief executive of the Lee Valley Regional Park Authority, which owns and runs the new centre, was kind enough to walk me through the business plan when we found a quiet corner.

The income target is put at £2.5 million ($4.1 million/€3 million) a year, after a couple of seasons getting up to speed, which should be enough to allow a small surplus.

He says the income in 2013, even before the new development was finished, was around £1.4 million ($2.3 million/€1.6 million), split approximately 70:30 between the general public and the corporate sector.

Based on this, and the superb quality of the development, that £2.5 million figure looks eminently attainable.

Can such facilities in other Olympic host citites like Beijing really make them financially viable post-Games? ©Getty Images



Incidentally, in the way of these things, Dawson says the centre has discovered an unexpected supplementary market in the emergency services, who appreciate Lee Valley as a training venue partly because they know the water is clean.

The centre's business planners, however, don't have to worry about repaying the capital cost of constructing the centre, which now stands at some £37 million ($61 million/€44 million).

Imagine if, instead of being anted up mainly by a variety of public bodies, this money had had to be borrowed at, say, five per cent a year and repaid over, say, 20 years.

According to my back-of-envelope arithmetic, the year one financing cost would have been £3.7 million ($6.1 million/€4.4 million), or comfortably more than expected annual income even when the centre is up to full speed.

One way of justifying this gift to canoeing from a grateful nation is to say that it was a small part of the investment in bringing the Olympic and Paralympic Games to Britain and that the Games put the country in the global spotlight in a very positive way, generating incalculable millions in spin-off benefits.

I'd largely go along with that.

However, the impact of the Games would have been just as great with or without slalom canoeing.

In the case of Lee Valley, I don't think this is an issue since, if you are prepared to swallow the capital cost, the centre will most probably be able to, as the money men say, "wash its face": this looks very unlikely to become known as the White Elephant off junction 25 of the M25 motorway.

But what about Athens, or Rio, or even Beijing? Would the white-water facilities in these Olympic cities be able to present similarly convincing plans to cover their operating costs over an extended period while enriching the lives of a significant cross-section of the local populations?

This is why, though I much enjoy watching it, I have come to wonder more if slalom canoeing should really be part of the Olympic Games than, say, taekwondo or archery, which do not – or should not – leave behind costly and specialised facilities in places where they are not necessarily needed.

Of course, development of a capability to manufacture portable canoe slalom courses would address this issue.

Is such a concept feasible? Does such a thing already exist?

Given the mounting pressure on mega-event organisers to demonstrate a responsible attitude towards long-term legacy and the sensible use of resources, it may be an idea whose time has come.

David Owen worked for 20 years for the Financial Times in the United States, Canada, France and the UK. He ended his FT career as sports editor after the 2006 World Cup and is now freelancing, including covering the 2008 Beijing Olympics, the 2010 World Cup and London 2012. Owen's Twitter feed can be accessed here.

Sir Philip Sidney accomplished many fine things in his all too brief life, among them the poetic composition of Astrophel and Stella. But what has he got to do with the German bobsleigh team, I hear you ask?

Well, nothing became Sidney's life like the leaving of it. As he lay shot through the thigh and mortally wounded at the Battle of Zutphen in 1586, Sidney – it was said – gave his water to another wounded soldier alongside him, with the words: "Thy necessity is yet greater than mine."

That noble instinct has had its echo in all areas of human life, including sport, where this week Germany's former world bobsleigh champion Manuel Machata has been banned for a year and fined €5,000 (£4,100/$6,900) for causing "great damage" to the interests of the German Bobsleigh Luge and Skeleton Federation (BSD).

Had Sir Philip Sidney been a bobsleigher, he would certainly have lent his sled to a fellow competitor in need ©Hulton Archive/Getty Images

His crime? The loaning of equipment to Russian rival Alexander Zubkov, who went on to win two gold medals at the recently concluded Sochi Winter Games.

Machata, who won gold as part of the four-man team at the 2011 World Championships, was not selected for the Sochi Games, and privately lent his own sled to Zubkov, Russia's Opening Ceremony flagbearer.

Manuel Machata has been fined and banned for what some view as an Olympic gesture ©AFP/Getty Images

As things turned out, Germany, despite enjoying a bumper medal spree in the Black Sea resort, went without a bobsleigh medal at an Olympics for the first time since Innsbruck 1964.

It was at those very Winter Games where the most obvious sporting echo of Machata's actions took place, when Italy's world bobsleigh champion Eugenio Monti loaned the British pair of Tony Nash and Robin Dixon an axle bolt after theirs had broken during their opening run.

The British pair then came from behind to overhaul the Italian pairing of Sergio Zardini and Romano Bonagura, pushing them down to silver medal position ahead of their fellow countrymen – Monti and Sergio Siorpaes.

For Monti, despite the medal finish, there was no retribution from the Italian Federation. Quite the reverse, in fact, as his actions earned him the exceptional award of the Pierre de Coubertin Fair Play Trophy from the International Olympic Committee.

Eugenio Monti's 'lend' of bobsleigh gear won him an IOC award ©AFP/Getty Images


Four years later, at the Winter Games in Grenoble, Monti's joy was complete as, after winning two Olympic silvers and two bronzes, the 40-year-old finally got his hands on a gold in the two-man bob with Luciano De Paolis. "Now I can retire a happy man," Monti said.

Manuel Machata? Not such a happy man right now.

The BSD insist their actions have been in the "national interest" of their team.

"Of course we are aware that sleds were traded internationally in the past," says BSD President Andreas Trautmann.

"This procedure I've always been critical of.

"We will take the Olympic Winter Games in Sochi as an opportunity to set clear rules for German athletes in our regulations."

Alexander Zubkhov had a golden profit from Machata's donation in Sochi ©Getty Images

As you might expect, there has been considerable sympathy for Machata, with some observing that his actions exemplified "the real spirit of Olympism".

This touches a profound strand within sporting endeavour. Down the years, some of the most reverently celebrated actions of sportsmen and women have been not to do with winning – indeed, often to do with losing. But the actions have been honourable. Selfless even.

Golf, arguably the sport which most faithfully retains the spirit of fair play, has offered two classic examples.

At the US Open in 1925, Bobby Jones – who won 13 majors between 1923 and 1930 – called a one-stroke penalty on himself when his ball moved fractionally in the rough as he addressed it. No one else witnessed this. And the noble American went on to lose the title by one shot. When congratulated on his honesty, Jones responded: "You might as well praise a man for not breaking into banks."

Bobby Jones showed outstanding sportsmanship at the US Open in 1925 ©Hulton Archive/Getty Images

Forty-four years later, at the tense climax of the Ryder Cup between Britain and the United States, a youthful Tony Jacklin needed to hole a two-foot putt to tie the match. Jack Nicklaus conceded the shot, telling Jacklin afterwards: "I didn't think you were going to miss that putt, but I didn't want to give you the opportunity." The world applauded – although not all of Nicklaus' US team-mates joined in...

The Summer Olympics, too, have witnessed many examples of honour – notably at the 1932 Games in Los Angeles, when 21-year-old British fencer Judy Guinness was declared the winner of her final against Ellen Preis, but exchanged silver for gold when she pointed out to the judges that they had missed two of the Austrian's hits. Like Jones, Guinness felt this was simply a Preis that had to be paid...

But is the Machata case simply a case of selflessness being squashed by selfishness?

The chain of events his actions have precipitated says much about the way sport has evolved internationally since those innocent days of 1964.

Two factors make judgement a little less than clear-cut. Firstly, Machata loaned Zubkov his sled for a fee – not something Monti concerned himself with on that day in Innsbruck. It does make the whole thing feel less like a gesture and more like a transaction.

And secondly, well, things are just very different nowadays. International bobsleigh federations are spending thousands on incremental technical advances to their equipment, to the point where it might almost be sensible to have a parallel constructors' championship in the manner of Formula 1 racing.

Clearly the BSD is determined to prevent any such "flexibility" occurring in future – although in Machata's defence, it was his own personal sled that was lent.

So is that it for the generous sporting gesture between rival nations? Must all instances now necessarily be deemed as damaging to national interests? One hopes not.

It has been reported that the Sochi Winter Games produced several instances of selflessness, notably when German skiers and biathletes were lent kit by the Russian team after encountering problems with their own gear.

Perhaps then we are still some way from living in a world where the only permissible position can be summed up in the words: "My necessity is yet greater than thine..."

Mike Rowbottom, one of Britain's most talented sportswriters, covered the London 2012 Olympics and Paralympics as chief feature writer for insidethegames, having covered the previous five summer Games, and four winter Games, for The Independent. He has worked for the Daily Mail, The Times, The Observer, The Sunday Correspondent and The Guardian. His latest book Foul Play – the Dark Arts of Cheating in Sport (Bloomsbury £12.99) is available at the insidethegames.biz shop. To follow him on Twitter click here.

If, last month, you'd told me I would be flying to Zambia for my first international trip as a journalist I'd have called you crazy. If you'd told me that in a month and five days I'd be sat on a plane home, reflecting on the most remarkable trip of my life, I'd have locked you up and thrown away the key.

But here I am. Sat staring out of the rain splattered window (yes it rains here in Africa too, you know) with two elderly African women sat holding hands in front of me, reminding me of the unique sense of unity that I have seen nowhere else in the world.

Now, I'll be honest with you, when I received the phone call telling me that I would be flying to Zambia five days hence I was scared.

Not about travelling half way around the world, nor the fact that I hadn't the time to receive the "advised" inoculations my friends and family were urging me to get.

I was scared that when I eventually made it to Zambia, and stood amongst the Presidents, secretary generals, coaches and leaders of Southern Africa judo, that I wouldn't belong.

I was worried that they would take one look at the young white English boy, who hadn't a clue about the culture or history of their continent, and they would turn their noses up.

This feeling, stupid as it may be, ebbed its way into the back of my mind, quietly wading its way through my thoughts during the long 15 hour flight to the South of Africa. It stayed there until I was stood in the queue for passport control at the airport in Zambia's capital city, Lusaka.

As I stood there, looking bewildering around me at this completely new world, I overheard my name in a conversation in front of me. Confused, I gathered the courage to butt in. "You're looking for Paul Osborne? From insidethegames?" I mumbled, dressed fittingly in my newly acquired insidethegames t-shirt.

To my surprise their eyes light up. A smile broke across their faces as the President of the Zambian Judo Federation, Alfred Foloko, alongside his secretary general Mavuto Nguni and South Africa Judo President Temba Hlasho, welcomed me to Zambia, laughed and joked as if I was an old friend and accepted me as only an African could. With warmth in their eyes, and a smile on their face.

I had made it to Zambia, I had met just three of the 20 participants in this IJF Development Project, but already I felt my worries drift blissfully from my mind.

A group of Zambians showing their warmth and kindness as they help push our car after it broke down outside the workshop ©ITG



Now, before I continue, I would just like to thank the International Judo Federation and insidethegames. Without whom this visit would not have been possible. I would also like to thank Robert Van de Walle, Alain Massart, Daniel Lascau and Andrei Bondor. Not only did they teach me an impossible amount during the five days I was in Africa, but they did it with a friendliness and desire, seen by very few people in this world.

Finally, and maybe most importantly, I would like to thank each member of the nine National Federations that took part in the Project. These people showed a hunger, a drive, and a determination to succeed that I could hardly believe. They taught me everything about their culture, their people and their countries and did it all with a warmth that I did not expect to see. They made my time in Zambia a once in a lifetime experience and for that I will be forever grateful.

The unity and camaraderie of the delegates from each Federation was clear throughout the Development Project ©ITG



On the first day of the project, Robert gave each Federation delegate the chance to tell us all why they were here, and what the proudest moment of their life was.

I was surprised when I was handed the microphone, and, although I knew why I was there, I couldn't think of anything to say for the latter.

Looking back now, I know that if that microphone were to be passed to me again I would describe getting on that plane at London - Heathrow, travelling to Zambia, and jumping headfirst into this experience. An experience that I will remember for a lifetime.

I feel many people have the wrong impression of Africa. Even I had my doubts as I was furiously scrolling through page after page of safety tips and hazards during the few days before my visit.

But, after sitting and observing the sessions by Robert, Alain, Daniel and Andrei, and seeing the hunger on the faces of each participant, I knew I had been hugely mistaken. To see the desire to learn, the greed for knowledge and willingness to listen was inspiring. I knew that these people were not just here for a free hand out. They wanted to gain the knowledge that was on offer and use it to help further develop their region, not just in judo, but in life.

Now, it would be inexcusable for me not to talk about the IJF Development Project, be it that this was the reason for my trip to Southern Africa.

The Project, the first of its kind, was an opportunity for the Presidents, secretary generals and coaches of the nine National Judo Federations which make up the Southern African Judo Confederation - Zambia, Botswana, Namibia, Zimbabwe, Malawi, South Africa, Swaziland, Mozambique and Seychelles - to procure the knowledge and understanding of what it is to be a leader; how this leadership can be used to help develop a Federation; and how these Federations can learn to organise a succession of successful competitions and events.

The first two days were led by five-time Olympian Robert Van de Walle along with his friend and colleague Alain Massart, a professor at the University of Coimbra in Portugal.

I've thought a lot about how best to describe Robert. He is a man that lives, breathes and sleeps judo. A giant of a man but one that moves with such elegance and grace. Like a rhythmic dancer he glides across the tatami, leaving you gaping in awe as he demonstrates technique after technique with the nimbleness and eloquence of a man half his age. His passion for judo is evident in every word that he speaks, with his success on the mat matched only by his drive to make the world a better place for those around him.

Where Robert is the engine that sends the machine hurtling towards its goal, Alain is the wheel that steers it seamlessly from turn to turn. Used repeatedly as a crash test dummy by his colleague, his extremely sharp mind is made clear each time he speaks. His knowledge of judo is in a league of its own whilst his friendly manner leaves you feeling warm and at ease.

Robert Van de Walle and Alain Massart's modules were a mixture of hands on workshops and lecture-styled seminars ©ITG


Throughout their two day workshop, the pair led a series of sessions designed to instil belief and inspire growth in each of the participants. A mix of lecture style seminars and hands on activities brought an exciting blend of both learning and enjoyment.

The final day saw Daniel Lascau, the IJF's sport director and Andrei Bondor, chairman of the IJF Veteran's Commission; lead a seminar apiece revolving around the more practical aspects of a Federation's operations.

With Robert and Alain developing the delegate's leadership skills and providing the inspiration and drive needed to develop both themselves and their Federations, Daniel and Andrei used these new found beliefs and put them into practical use.

Andrei's presentation looked into the building, managing and functioning of a Federation. Providing a framework in which each participant could develop and grow their National Federation in order to harbour the greatest success possible.

Daniel then outlined the necessary steps needed to host a successful competition, providing a variety of ideas and suggestions for before, during and after a potential event.

Each module, from each of the four experts, provided the essence and structures needed to operate a successful Federation. The presentations flowed nicely between one another with the uniqueness of each speaker allowing for an enjoyable and interesting experience throughout.

Talking with many of the participants, I know that the speakers' innate ability to inspire and motivate left them with a renewed sense of belief and determination that they are sure to take back home to their Federations. Their desire to learn and hunger for knowledge made acknowledgement to this fact as they sat drinking in each droplet of information that was laid before them.

In the hope of not sounding too cheesy (although I get the overwhelming feeling that this border was crossed long ago) I would like to say that this experience, which has been a privilege for me to receive, has taught me a remarkable amount in just a short space of time.

It has opened my eyes to the world and shown me that unity and passion can be found even in the most surprising of places.

This experience has opened doors to new friendships for me as I got to know and admire the participants from across Southern Africa ©ITG



It has opened doors to new friendships and left me with memories that I shall cherish forever.

It has taught me that judo is not just a sport; it is a way of life.

That people do not just practise judo; they eat, sleep and breathe it.

And that judoka are not just a set of individuals, nor a gathering of people; it is a family, and a family I truly believe I am now a part of.

An old African proverb once read, "If you travel alone, you can travel fast. If you travel together, you will travel far," and, after just five days on this brilliant continent, I couldn't think of a better way to sum up my feelings.

Paul Osborne is a reporter for insidethegames. To follow him on Twitter click here.

It has not taken long for Vladimir Putin to go from the Winter Games to War Games.

Only a matter of days after the curtain came down on Sochi 2014, the smiley face was replaced with a menacing scowl as Putin mobilised his military minders now supposedly forming a protection force of Russian interests in Ukraine.

Had this happened shortly before the Winter Olympics and not immediately afterwards, what might have been the effect on the Games?

And what now might be the effect on the Winter Paralympics which begin this weekend?

At best there will be an air of tension. At worst, should things escalate, we could see some nations calling home their athletes, led by the United States who, lest we forget, were prime architects of the half-hearted boycott of the Moscow Summer Olympics in 1980 when the then Soviet Union rolled their tanks into Afghanistan.

Let's hope not. The probability is that Putin is astute enough to hold his fire, so to speak, until the curtain closes on the Paralympic events. Though I wouldn't wager too many roubles on it.

It has taken just days for Vladimir Putin's smiley face to be replaced with a menacing scowl ©Getty Images



We know already that there is a political and diplomatic boycott of sorts, with many of the world's leaders who turned up in Sochi a couple of weeks ago pointedly steering clear of the Paralympics.

There will be no UK Government support for Team GB, as Prime Minister David Cameron has put the block on Sports Minister Helen Grant and her boss, Culture Secretary Maria Muller, zipping up their salopettes again.

He says that while the Government remains fully supportive of the British participants, it would be "inappropriate for ministers to attend in the current circumstances".

Prince Edward, patron of the British Paralympic Association, has also pulled out on the advice of Downing Street.

These are snubs Putin doubtless will shrug off more easily than had this all blown up before February 7, when the able-bodied Games opened.

As my insidethegames colleague Nick Butler has pointed out, the situation in Crimea is complicated and we should not rush into final judgement until we see exactly what Putin's intentions are.

But what is happening now is not something which anyone in sport can say is "nothing to do with us" because actually it is. Very much so. Quite a number of sports personalities are already involved.

Ukraine's former world heavyweight champion Vitali Klitschko is not the only sporting giant to be currently embroiled in the confusing political struggle.

Sergei Bubka has urged both Ukraine and Russia to lay down their weapons in the interests of peace ©Getty Images



And while he was in Sochi, Sergey Bubka, the pole vault icon who heads Ukraine's National Olympic Committee, had urged both sides to lay down their weapons and halt the violence that is bringing the country to "the brink of catastrophe".

He said: "I pray and I appeal to both parties: stop violence, try to find the peace, keep us together to live in peace."

However, the Olympic gold medallist and prolific world record breaker, who for four years was a member of the Ukrainian Parliament, now finds himself in an invidious situation.

Unlike Klitschko, he has been a supporter of the previous regime and has favoured strengthening ties with Russia; not a popular view in the current climate outside the pro-Russian Crimea.

He and Klitschko, though both national idols and products of the same Soviet sporting system, are not close because of their political differences. Bubka, 50, recently made an unsuccessful bid for the Presidency of the International Olympic Committee, whereas the 42-year-old "Dr Ironfist" has even loftier ambitions.

He quit boxing to become a prominent leader of Ukraine's protest movement and as a member of the interim Government is to run for the country's Presidency in the May 25 elections.

Intriguingly, Putin has wheeled out one of Russia's own heavy hitters in an attempt to counter-punch Klitschko's popularity. Nicolai Valuev, aka the Beast from the East, at 7ft an even more imposing figure than the 6ft 7in Klitschko, has been seen strolling around the city centre in Sevastapol, the Crimean capital.

Putin has wheeled out boxer Nicolai Valuev, who has been seen strolling around Crimea's capital ©Bongarts/Getty Images



The lumbering Valuev, 37, relieved of the WBA version of the world title by Britain's David Haye in 2009, was joined by fellow Russian Parliamentarian Irina Rodnina, 64, the former Olympic figure skater who was a gold medallist in three successive Olympics and lit the flame at Sochi's Opening Ceremony.

Rodnina, now very much a political activist, had attracted criticism after earlier tweeting a doctored picture of the US President and Mrs Obama which was deemed to be racist.

Clearly Putin is not averse to using sport or sports people as ammunition in this new Cold War, just as his Kremlin predecessors did in the old Soviet regime.

But the key sporting figure remains Vitali Klitschko.

He has wisely been keeping a low profile in Kyiv, no doubt realising that he may well be fighting for his own life as well as that of his country.

One enduring image was captured last month on TV screens around the world, showing his granite-like features covered in powder from a fire extinguisher as he came under attack while talking to protesters in Kyiv.

Now he appears to be keeping his own powder dry for his Presidential bid.

Klitschko, one of my all-time favourite fighters, was no mug in the ring. Neither is he out of it, conversing in four languages with a PhD in sports science, an astute political brain and a growing political fan base among fellow Ukrainians, not so much for who he is but for what he might be able to accomplish for his country.

So is he electable? Certainly, say both his brother Wladimir and their German manager Bernd Boente.

Vitali Klitschko, a popular figure in Ukraine, appears to be keeping his powder dry for a presidential bid ©Getty Images



"Vitali has never been involved in the so-called 'old' politics in Ukraine," says Boente. "He is incorruptible. He was never supported by any oligarchs or any strange people. The people know he made his money inside the boxing ring, not through some dark sources. That's a big, big plus.

"My feeling is that Ukraine is ready to accept Vitali as President, especially because of his reputation. Of all those running, he is the only one with a clear background, where people know how he made his millions. He has the right advisers and the right ideas and because he lived so many years in Germany and the US, he knows what a democracy means.

"This is his mission. He fights for democracy. He could lay on a beach and count his millions but that's not what his life is about."

Klitschko established the Ukrainian Democratic Alliance for Reform (Udar) – which appropriately translates as Punch - in 2010, and although brother Wladimir is not a member he does vigorously endorse his campaign.

Wladimir, who stepped up to become the Olympic super-heavyweight champion in 1996 when Ukraine's first choice Vitali was suspended for failing a drugs test, now holds four versions of the World Championship. Five years younger than Vitali he is similarly erudite and dignified, and the more fluent of the two in English.

While he has never been as politically active, the recent upheaval in Ukraine has seen him interrupt his training for a title defence against the Samoan Alex Leapai in Germany next month to garner support in the US and western Europe for what he terms "peace, freedom and democracy in our homeland".

Wladimir Klitschko (right) says he is getting back in the boxing ring to fight for Ukraine's freedom and his brother Vitali's quest for peace ©Bongarts/Getty Images



He was in London last week where he declared: "Our fight for freedom is impossible without support from the West. So while my brother has been in Kyiv all this time working day and night for three months without any sleep, I have been talking to the West and obtaining influential supporters." Among these is ex-US President Bill Clinton.

"I am working on a few plans to help Vitali and my country. When I fight on 26 April I will also be fighting for him and for Ukraine. This could be the most important fight of my whole career. What can be more important than finding a way to keep your country united?"

For the first time, Vitali won't be in his corner when he fights little-known Leapai as obviously he has a much bigger fight of his own on his hands one month later.

The brothers talk on the phone every day "on all issues, personal and political", says Wladimir. In one of those conversations Vitali told him: "The whole situation is very dangerous. But I am still alive!"

Vitali's anti-corruption, pro-European platform has made him Ukraine's most popular politician. He is now said to be ahead in the polls for a Presidential race likely to be far fiercer than any of his 17 title fights.

Ironically the last of these, in October, was in Moscow, where he was enthusiastically applauded from the ringside by Putin. Now they are in opposite corners and we wait for the bell to ring.

Alan Hubbard is an award-winning sports columnist for The Independent on Sunday and a former sports editor of The Observer. He has covered a total of 16 Summer and Winter Games, 10 Commonwealth Games, several football World Cups and world title fights from Atlanta to Zaire.

There was a spectacular finale to the heritage Flame Lighting Ceremony at the Paralympic Movement's birthplace of Stoke Mandeville on Saturday.

The event had initially seemed a relatively low key affair bearing more resemblance to a British Garden fête than a Russian sporting extravaganza. The atmosphere was pleasant and enjoyable but also relaxed and, to my shame, I had even begun to drift off, lost in a spiral of emails, rather than paying close attention to the ongoing Ceremony.

But, as a nudge from a bemused communications worker revived me from my slumber, I looked up to see London 2012 champion Hannah Cockroft suspended in what I later learned was an "Armillary Sphere" as flames and fireworks spiralled out across the Buckinghamshire sky.

It was sudden, completely unexpected, but utterly spectacular and I hope that it will be a metaphor for the success of the Winter Paralympics as a whole.

The spectacular Heritage Flame Lighting Ceremony at Stoke Mandeville ©Getty Images



The Winter Paralympics is something that has never figured particularly highly on my radar, and I think it is fair to say on a more general level that it has historically been a minor affair in comparison with the Summer version.

Yet at the same time it is abundantly clear that if the Games in Russia is anything other than a success it will detract from the overall perception of Sochi 2014.

This is particularly due to Russia's historical intolerance of those with disabilities. For as International Paralympic Committee (IPC) President Sir Philip Craven explained last year, the 1980 Paralympics were held in the Dutch city of Arnhem rather than Moscow, after the Soviet Union insisted "they cannot take place here because nobody has an impairment".

So Sochi 2014 provides an opportunity to illustrate a "New Russia" in terms of attitudes but it also carries the risk that elements of "Old Russia" may persevere.

Although there has been huge praise of Sochi's progress regarding barrier access for the disabled, both the IPC and the Russian Paralympic Committee have admitted concerns over recent months regarding faltering ticket sales.

Having attended the Olympic Games in Sochi, I feel that atmosphere could potentially be a problem although I did also see signs for optimism.

It will be a challenge to revive the Olympic Park atmosphere seen during the Olympics 
©Getty Images


On one hand the Olympic Park is large and felt eerie and was relatively lacking in atmosphere during the Olympics until the Games were a few days old.

At last! Cycling has a leadership its squillions of followers deserve and the sport's damaged reputation is going to be tackled with all the integrity and commitment we expected from its new President, Brian Cookson.

Earlier this month, Mr Cookson explained how the newly formed Cycling Independent Reform Commission (CIRC) is going to adopt an up front, realistic approach to an investigation into an historic doping culture in the sport. It will also consider allegations of the UCI's own involvement in previous wrongdoing.

The creation of the CIRC and the clarity around how it will operate is a massive step forward for cycling after so much drivel and incompetence from the previous administration. Albert Einstein once said that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results and there's no doubt the UCI suffered from that in the past and to that end, the previous environment was definitely insane.

Unfortunately, Cycling has become a sport where winning means you're immediately under suspicion. Brian Cookson was elected in September on the back of a campaign that promoted clarity, transparency, great governance and a determination to raise his sport's woeful reputation. In delivering his first major public message, Mr Cookson confirmed the wider intentions of the CIRC when he said: "I want parents to know that they can bring their children to our sport, safe in the knowledge that they can rise to the very top without cheating."

The UCI's new President Brian Cookson is tackling the sport's damaged reputation head on ©Getty Images



The Commission's Swiss chairman, Dick Marty, is a former Swiss state prosecutor. Alongside him he has men with specialised experience in anti-doping rules and criminal investigations. They have now begun the process of inviting and requesting testimony from anyone who can shed light on the practices that resulted in cycling's doping culture running riot. In the past, such an objective has been riddled with political contrivance but now, there is a focus on the collection of factual information for the singular benefit of securing cycling's future.

That said, it's still going to take guts and courage for an individual to stand up and tell what they know and that's where I'd hope the teams, the sponsors and every other stakeholder group accepts the principles and objectives of the new commission. They should not look to apply their own punishments or sanctions on anyone in their group who steps up because now is the time for unity in cycling. The new UCI and Brian Cookson have shown the way forward and the days of "zero tolerance policy" and rule by fear must be committed to the past to allow information to be gathered without fear of politically or financially motivated reprisal.

For this critically important process, there has to be as much "carrot" as there is "stick" and in this case, the Commission has adopted a policy of collaboration in order to shape the future. Crucially, it's also been made clear that if you've got information and you keep quiet, don't be surprised if you get a knock on the door when someone else rolls up and says you were involved. The opportunity is there, cycling and its protagonists now have the chance to use it for the sake of their sport. Let's see who's in and who's out.

It will take a lot of guts and courage for an individual to stand up and tell what they know about cycling's murky past ©AFP/Getty Images



There is one element of all this that stands out beyond all others when you read between the lines. This is a commission which acknowledges a fundamental culture that didn't revolve around one group, or even one individual.

I get the feeling there'll be no hysteria from within and certainly no revelatory pantomime for the short-term benefit of the media. This will be an objective process that covers all areas and all people. Will Lance Armstrong be part of that process? You'd hope that yes, he would be. But will this be allowed to degenerate into a circus that shoves all the blame onto one, high profile sacrificial lamb? I don't think so; I bloody well hope not. The UCI now appears to be run by people who want a top-to-bottom clean-up operation, not a celebrity hanging and the words from Brian Cookson confirm that this is not going to be a superstar witch hunt, but a balanced and committed appraisal of reality.

The Commission has said it will focus on a period between 1998 and 2013 and for many (including me) it means they won't be going back far enough to view the full extent of cycling's dark period. To counteract this, Mr Cookson has confirmed that the commission has the mandate to investigate further back if it chooses and I believe that in setting initial basic, manageable, clear parameters the Commission will have structure AND the independence they need to perform their work.

There is nothing to gain from making Lance Armstrong a high profile sacrificial lamb for his doping sins ©Getty Images



While I'm sure there has been much work going on in the background since Brian Cookson was elected, this is his first major public statement of intent and as a mad keen, cycling nut, I like what he's doing and I hope others do too. As you may know, SKINS and the pressure group we formed, Change Cycling Now, were very active in campaigning for the replacement of Pat McQuaid and in achieving our aims, it appears that cycling has taken the opportunity to choose the right man to repair the damage. There seems to be an air of calm assurance and equitable management that wasn't apparent before.

There is, of course, a long, long way to go. One announcement of a full and independent investigation does not guarantee the answer all in one go; but, it's one heck of a start.

We are at a critical point in the road to success. The future of cycling starts now.

Jamie Fuller is the chairman of Skins. To follow him on Twitter click here.

Unless I am mistaken – and of course this is distinctly possible, given that for years I puzzled over the phrase "Second to None" until I realised that "none" meant "no one" rather than "zero" – the motto accompanying the Winter Games that have just concluded in Sochi had a sexual element to it.

"Hot. Cool. Yours." This artful concentration of buzzwords was patently assembled with the desire – if you'll forgive the phrase – to make the 22nd Winter Games attractive to the younger audience.

Ah-hem. At this point shall we recall the official explanation of the motto in question. "Hot" reflected the intensity of sporting competition and the passion of the spectators. "Cool" reflected the Winter Games and the common perception of Russia's climate. "Yours" symbolised personal commitment.

Yeah, right.

The slogan worked. Ahead of the action – if you'll forgive the phrase – attractive (subjective) competitors tweeted pictures of themselves alongside banners boasting the three key words. They were happy to associate themselves with an advertising campaign's carefully modulated vision.

"Hot. Cool. Yours." - A slogan clearly assembled to appeal to a younger audience ©AFP/Getty Images



Hot. "Hot", like "fit", is increasingly interchangeable as a variant on the word "sexy".

Note to younger readers: "sexy" was a word used back in the 20th century to denote attractiveness. Note to older readers: Please do not ever use the words "hot" or "fit" in any sense or on any occasion as they are likely to cause excessive amusement/embarrassment among any young people within earshot.

For instance, a comment about an athlete – "He looks really fit" – will provoke snorts of derision from one's children or firmly suppressed mirth from young people who are obliged to be polite to you (the two categories being occasionally interchangeable.)

Any comment about heat is also off limits – on a summer's day, for instance, the simply expressed statement "I'm hot" will provoke another round of guffaws and shared looks from any young audience.

On one occasion I tried to outface this annexation of language (imagine now describing someone as "gay" when you wish merely to refer to their bright and vivacious mood) when my wife referred to some sad specimen of humanity – it might have been Alan Rickman or someone like that – as "hot". I added, wittily: "Perhaps he needs to remove some of his clothing then." This failed on every level.

Anyway, the Sochi slogan was clearly put together to engender the idea that the 22nd Winter Games were like an ideal partner – sexy, smart and available, to paraphrase.

Why the Olympics should have to be seen as "hot" is another question. No one tried to describe London 2012 as hot, or even cool. It was enough that they Inspired a Generation. But given that it was deemed necessary, the slogan worked within its terms because, crucially, it got the tone right.

This week, another attempt to generate youthful interest in a global sporting event – this year's World Cup finals in Brazil – has demonstrated what can happen when the tone is misjudged. And it's not cool.

Adidas, the global sporting goods manufacturers who are one of the main sponsors of the World Cup, for which they like to introduce footballs which fly in new and unpredictable ways every four years, have just been obliged to halt production of a range of T-shirts promoting the forthcoming event.

Adidas have been obliged to halt production of a range of T-shirts promoting the football World Cup in Brazil, because of their sexual connotations ©Getty Images for adidas



One of the shirts – said to be a limited range for sale within the United States – features a scantily clad woman and the printed question "Looking to score?" Another uses a picture of a heart shaped like a bikini-clad bottom and carrying the words "I love Brazil." Never mind the subtext – the text is sex.

The reaction from Brazil has been swift and condemnatory. The country's tourist board, Embratur, announced on Tuesday: "Any links between national icons and images with sex appeal are against the country's official marketing policies. Such an attitude can directly contribute to committing crimes such as sexual child and adolescent exploitation. Brazil does not tolerate this type of crime on its territory."

Brazil's President, Dilma Rousseff, also got involved, tweeting that Brazil was happy to greet tourists for the World Cup but that the country was also ready to fight sexual tourism.

Adidas, as you might imagine, have responded smartly, pointing out that they always pay attention to the opinion of its consumers and partners, and adding that the products in question "would not be sold any more".

Brazil as a nation has been making it clear that it is trying to distance itself from sexual stereotypes with which their country has been associated over many years.

Tastes change; attitudes shift. Brazil may find it easier to regulate the element of sexuality during the forthcoming World Cup finals, but it will surely find that task more difficult two years from now when the Olympics arrive in Rio.

Given the nature of the Games – let's think beach volleyball for a moment – it is hard to see how presentation can be devoid of references, direct or indirect, to sex. It can't be denied that sex is part of the sell.

It's hard to see how presentation of sports such as beach volleyball, for example, can be devoid of references to sex ©Sports Illustrated/Getty Images



What should not happen is the imposition of sex, or sexual imagery, onto sporting endeavours which have nothing to do with it.

At the 1992 Barcelona Games, for instance, a British tabloid newspaper greeted the 400m hurdles victory of Chigwell's Sally Gunnell with the headline: Essex girls DO come first.

Someone on the subs desk, or more likely the top bench, must have thought this was very funny. Doubtless it was a line waiting to be used if and when this farmer's daughter crossed the line first.

But it was demeaning and depressing – a sad snigger that would have been better expressed and forgotten in a saloon bar. Gunnell later gamely agreed that her parents had "seen the joke" in the headline. Why should they have had to?

When it comes to matters of sex and sport, as Adidas are now keenly aware, tone is key.

Sport has never been more important for national Governments.

When you boil it down, this is largely because it has never been more important to the people who elect them: in today's scary, complicated, interconnected world, there is something reassuring, almost atavistic, about seeing an athlete symbolising all that is best about your country take on the rest of the world and beat them fair and square.

Much good, for sport, has come of this state of affairs - notably the unprecedented wads of money, public and private, being lobbed in its direction.

But the rather overblown significance that tends nowadays to be attached to elite sport seems also to be encouraging more questionable phenomena.

One of these is what I am going to refer to as diplo, or diplomatic, doping.

I don't know if anyone keeps statistics on this sort of thing, but it seems to me that the number of athletes either switching allegiance, or deciding to represent a country that, by any objective assessment, is not the most obvious choice, has been on the rise in recent times.

In one sense, this is just a reflection of modern life: in a world where international travel and communication is a gazillion times cheaper and easier than ever before, it should come as no surprise that so many of us forge trans-national attachments.

Adnan Januzaj may soon have to make up his mind between as many as six countries that he might eventually qualify to play for ©Getty Images


It sometimes seems, indeed, that nearly everyone in the current generation of elite athletes can claim legitimate allegiance to more than one country.

Poor Adnan Januzaj, the Manchester United football prodigy, may soon have to make up his mind between as many as six countries that he might eventually qualify to play for.

But I wonder if the extent of allegiance switching in recent years doesn't also reflect a rising intensity in the battle among nations for sporting success and the spin-off benefits increasingly associated with it.

And, if it does, I wonder if additional steps ought to be taken to counter it.

To answer these questions, we should first think about what, if anything, is wrong with allowing athletes to switch nationality at will.

Would we lose anything of value by permitting, say, a badminton player to move from Iceland to Equatorial Guinea as easily as a professional footballer might be transferred from Juventus to Chelsea?

Should it be OK for a Chinese table tennis player to sign a four-year contract to represent, I don't know, Paraguay?

What if we went the whole hog and implemented a football-style transfer market, ensuring that the country which developed the athlete would, at least, receive something for its trouble?

Governments, after all, have grown accustomed to investing significant sums to develop Olympic talent; is buying the end product of someone else's development programme not simply a different, and potentially more efficient, way of achieving the same end?

South Korean born short track speed skater Viktor Ahn became a Russian citizen in 2011 and ultimately won three gold medals and a bronze for the Olympic host nation at Sochi 2014 ©AFP/Getty Images

I should say that I have a certain amount of sympathy for Chinese table tennis players, or Brazilian footballers, who would be good enough to play for many other countries but who, because of the depth of their native country's talent pool, have little hope of experiencing international competition.

Nonetheless, it seems self-evident to me that this is not the way to go unless we want medals tables and other classifications of sporting achievement to be dominated by All-Star teams drawn from all over the globe, but representing the country with the biggest chequebook.

And, frankly, the more liberal the attitude to changes of sporting allegiance that we adopt, the further down that road - the road to full-scale diplo-doping - we are likely to go, or so it seems to me.

For that reason, I would favour a hard line, significantly harder than sometimes appears to be the case at present, for nationality switches, while advocating maximum flexibility when it comes to the aspiring international's initial choice of country.

That's OK for the base principle.

But the aforementioned complexity and interconnectedness of the modern world would, I suspect, make hard and fast rules difficult to formulate.

Suppose you put a blanket ban on athletes who have already represented one country at elite level from switching to a different nation, as many from the former Stephen Cherono to the former Ahn Hyun-soo, now Viktor Ahn, have done over the years.

Would you then block Kosovo-born footballers who have won many caps for Switzerland in recent times from turning out for their native land now that it has secured governing body FIFA's clearance to play friendly matches under certain conditions, should they wish to do so?

And what about athletes such as Cuba-born triple jumper Yamilé Aldama who marry an individual from a different country and relocate, then seek to represent their new country of residence - would you block them?

Yamilé Aldama competes in triple jump for Great Britain but has also previously represented Cuba and Sudan ©AFP/Getty Images



Or would you draw the line at athletes who claim to have been frozen out by coaches or managers in their original country's national set-up?

So it is a difficult area to get right.

And that's without even considering whether sports bodies would ever be able to implement their own policies on such a sensitive topic independent of Government.

After all, Governments will always, one imagines, retain the right to grant or withhold national citizenship from immigrants.

Would sports bodies then be willing - or able legally - to exclude citizens from selection for their new country's sports teams on anything other than sporting grounds?

I wonder, under the circumstances, if there is a case for adopting an approach that owes something to the way sport has sought to tackle the admittedly much graver issue of chemical doping, or illicit, performance-enhancing drugs.

That is to say to attempt to draft a standard code that would be applicable across all sports and all national governing bodies, and then use a quasi-judicial chamber to adjudicate specific cases.

Government buy-in would be necessary too, as with the World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA), because of the citizenship question alluded to above.

Perhaps that is going too far; perhaps I am entering sledgehammer-to-crack-a-nut territory.

But I would certainly like to read a worthwhile analysis of the impact and prevalence of nationality switching by elite athletes.

Only then will it be possible to judge whether the phenomenon has reached the point where it warrants a more coordinated response.

David Owen worked for 20 years for the Financial Times in the United States, Canada, France and the UK. He ended his FT career as sports editor after the 2006 World Cup and is now freelancing, including covering the 2008 Beijing Olympics, the 2010 World Cup and London 2012. Owen's Twitter feed can be accessed here.

No-one died, no bombs went off, no gays were persecuted and Sochi's spectacular Winter Olympics were the epitome of all that is good in sport. Huge sighs of relief all round.

Despite all the forebodings Russia pulled it off in style – as they will the 2018 football World Cup.

For when it comes to staging super shows, Russia doesn't mess about.

Even from the comfort of the armchair we at home could see the new face of Russia – wreathed in smiles. Vladimir Putin even cracked one, usually when one of their medal winners was on the rostrum.

However only time, and possibly the unfolding political drama in Ukraine, will tell if it was all just for show - their Winter Games show.

There was plenty for Russian President Vladimir Putin right to smile about at Sochi 2014 ©Getty Images



Unquestionably though, the costliest and "coolest" Winter Olympics in history were brilliantly orchestrated and executed, with opening and closing ceremonies that were classy, tasteful and thoroughly entrancing, as you might expect from the home of Tchaikovsky, Tolstoy and the Bolshoi. In between the sport went off without a visible hitch. And joyously for Britain the expedition proved to be the most rewarding in 90 years. Well done all round.

Not unexpectedly, and rather understandably, UK Sport were first to trumpet all the British successes, ahead even of the British Olympic Association, proclaiming after every medal - gold, silver and two bronze - how the Lottery funding and their self-admitted "no compromise" policy had laid the foundations for GB's triumphs.

No argument with that. Their target of at least three medals had been achieved, plus one for luck. Sighs of relief and trebles all round.

Chief executive Liz Nichol declared: "Our decision to invest on a 'no compromise' basis for winter sports, in the same way as we do for summer sports this past four years has really paid dividends.

"What this shows is getting the right investment to the right athletes for the right reasons is key to delivering medal winning success – and we will approach our investment towards Pyeongchang 2018 with this philosophy at the forefront of our minds. British winter sport has an exciting future ahead of it.

"UK Sport is committed to supporting every athlete who can demonstrate the realistic potential to win a medal in either 2018 or 2022 and following so many outstanding performances in Sochi I anticipate that there will be an increase in our investment in to winter sports."

Lizzy Yarnold's skeleton gold was the highlight of Britain's record-equalling Winter Olympics ©Getty Images



So there will be a few quid more for winter sports on the road to Pyeongchang. No argument with that either. But what one might argue with this is whether those disciplines in which GB ended up among the also-skiied, like cross country and the biathlon (plus presumably ice hockey which didn't even qualify), should continue to benefit from this largesse while a more popular Summer Games sport like basketball has been given the financial heave-ho under the draconian winning-is-everything policy at UK Sport.

Recently my insidethegames colleague David Owen suggested it was now time for UK Sport "to rein in the medal lust". I heartily agree.

British Basketball, whose funding has been cut to zilch because of this medal-fixation, has been treated at best regrettably and at worst shamefully.

Britain's basketball teams have put in impressive performances considering they have only been properly funded since 2009 ©AFP/Getty Images



Basketball, in which 70 per cent of participants are under 25 and half come from black and minority communities, is hardly an elitist sport. Unlike fencing, which astonishingly has had its funding increased by almost 30 per cent to just short of £4 million despite never having got a sniff of an Olympic medal since 1964.

And how about sailing, the biggest recipients of all. Does it really need an extra bung of £25.5 million?

Isn't the Royal Yachting Association wealthy enough to ensure the sailors a few extra home comforts?

By coincidence the new chairman of UK Sport is Rod Carr, a former chief executive of the RYA. Of course, we totally accept assurances that he played no part in the funding process.

As the aggrieved slam-dunkers point out, UK Sport say it is all about winning medals. "That seems crazy" they say. Agreed.

Whatever happened to Sport for All?

Such rigidity is surely sacrificing long-term legacy for a short-term feel-good factor.

Do Britain's sailors need even more money from UK Sport? ©Getty Images



We know UK Sport policy is endorsed by the Government so it was a point I put to the shadow sports minister, Clive Efford, asking whether he thought it would be fairer rather than to award substantial increases to those successful, yet less needy sports, to instead distribute this amount among the others so they are not totally financially emasculated?

His response was disappointingly anodyne. "UK Sport has an outstanding record in supporting athletes and sports that bring success at the highest level. Whilst I am determined to play my part in generating greater participation in sport at the grass roots, I do not think it is for politicians to try to pick and choose which sports are going to be successful and which are not at the elite end of competition." No boat-rocking there.

Odd that. One would have thought that such fairer distribution of wealth was right up Labour's street. I certainly cannot imagine Kate Hoey, an outstanding former Labour sports minister, being quite as equivocal as that.

In cannot see why even half the extra £25 million to sailing, the £7 million to modern pentathlon and £4 million to fencing, could not be shared among those sports that have been deprived of any so that it could be used to help them aspire towards success craved by UK Sport.

There is a feasible argument that some sports may now be over-funded.

Sailing, fencing, equestrianism. Largely elitist pursuits you won't find being avidly practised in inner-city compounds like Hackney and Brixton where basketball proliferates.

UK sport has done admirable work in boosting British sport in terms of technology, talent identification, sports science and coaching support. But this hard-line policy over cash distribution is quite unfair. Even unsporting, you might say.

In a perceptive piece in London's Sunday Times David Walsh, the journalist whose dogged perseverance finally put a spoke in Lance Armstrong's dodgy wheels, should make uncomfortable reading at UK Sport's Bloomsbury HQ.

With some justification Walsh wonders whether the lust for gold is now damaging rather than enhancing sport in Britain. He cites a reader who says GB are the new GDR, misusing taxpayers' money as the East Germans once misused drugs.

There is something of a lust for medals at UK Sport ©Getty Images



East Germany doped their way to the podium. Are we now simply buying glory?

I know I am not alone in failing to see why basketball should have to forgo the £8.5 million it received after a respectable and well-supported showing at 2012, even though it didn't medal.

Since 2009, when basketball was first properly funded, its male and female teams have reached five European championship finals after only two appearances in the previous 50 years.

Both teams are now in the world's top 25. Can this be said of some funded sports, winter and summer?

But good luck to them. As UK Sport apparently can't spare any cash, we just hope those they are enriching can spare at least a thought for basketball, a sport left shivering in the cold.

Alan Hubbard is an award-winning sports columnist for The Independent on Sunday and a former sports editor of The Observer. He has covered a total of 16 Summer and Winter Games, 10 Commonwealth Games, several football World Cups and world title fights from Atlanta to Zaire.

There was one morning last Thursday in the Main Press Centre in Sochi which particularly sticks in the mind.

Events in Ukraine had escalated rapidly overnight and we are desperately trying to find out how it will affect their Olympic team but, meanwhile, we have a television screen one side showing the all-action spectacle that is parallel giant slalom snowboarding, while on the other we have the slow-burning yet agonising tension of a men's curling semi-final.

In the midst of all of this, I experience a moment of dawning realisation when I appreciate that this is what reporting on the Olympics should be like: stories breaking left, right and centre but all of them completely different and contrasting.

The following day I felt a similar feeling as, having made a brief escape from the confines of the Press Centre to watch Britain face Canada in the curling final, the first doping story of the Games developed and I barely looked up from my laptop for the rest of the match as the Canadians remorselessly pressed home their advantage with every sweep of the broom.

For the beauty of an Olympic Games is that it contains so many different stories and - from Jamaican bobsledders and slaloming violinists, to record breaking gold medal winners, via ski-cross pile ups, ice hockey punch-ups and speed skating clean ups - we truly did have it all in Sochi.

The situation in Ukraine was one of many stories which grabbed the attention at Sochi 2014 ©Getty Images


But sport is only one part of the Olympic Games and, whatever the International Olympic Committee (IOC) claims, politics does have a place because the history of the Games reverberates with developments in the foremost international issues of the day.

Sochi 2014 came to a magnificent close with a tour de force of music and dance worthy of the great traditions of Russian theatre.

The dramatic tones of Modest Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition were a striking and strident beginning to another magical evening.

A rowing boat soared towards the heights of the Fisht Olympic Stadium, trying to catch stars on this night when the world celebrated the achievements of the Olympians.

Thirty-four years ago, Misha the Bear shed a tear and soared into the night sky at the Lenin Stadium as the Moscow Olympics came to an end.

Now the Olympic flame which has burned so brightly on Russian soil will flicker and die at the formal end of the 2014 Games. International Olympic Committee (IOC) President Thomas Bach will close them with the time honoured words. "I call upon the youth of the world to come together again in Pyeongchang Republic of Korea, there to celebrate with us the XXIII Olympic Winter Games."

The Closing Ceremony is traditionally much more informal than the Opening. Even the parade of the teams is different, thanks to a suggestion by  a Chinese Australian schoolboy called John Ian Wing in 1956.

"The march I have in mind is different from the opening and will make the Games even greater," he said. "War, politics and nationality will be forgotten what more could anyone want if the world could be made as one nation? They must not march but walk freely and wave to the public. When they stop they should be given three cheers."

The flag bearers lead the way in, followed by a stream of athletes from all nations as Wing suggested.

Thanks to the suggestion of schoolboy John Ian Wing in 1956, athletes come into the stadium in a very different way at the Closing Ceremony ©Getty Images



A more recent innovation has been the introduction of the new members of the IOC Athletes' Commission, elected during the Games by a ballot held in the Olympic Village amongst all competitors. They in turn acknowledge the contribution of volunteers to the Games by a symbolic presentation of flowers to a small group representing their thousands of colleagues.

The lowering of the Olympic flag is always a poignant moment at the closing ceremony. In Turin, it was trooped out to the strains of the Olympic Anthem which then gave way to Va Pensiero, Verdi's magnificent chorus of the Hebrew slaves from Nabucco as it passed under the giant Olympic Rings one last time to leave the stadium. In 2010 it fell to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police to troop the flag from the arena. It was the moment that Vancouver ceased to be Olympia, and reverted to its normal existence as a city in British Columbia.

Another Olympic flag also has a central role in the closing of the Games. Just as the Summer Olympics has a ceremonial silk flag, so too does the Winter Games, the gift of the city of Oslo after 1952. This used to be handed over at the Opening Ceremony, but in 1984 the IOC changed the ritual so that the city about to stage the Games would act as the guardian of the flag for the next four years. Thus Sarajevo received it at their Opening Ceremony from Lake Placid and brought it to Canada in 1988. The city fathers of Calgary only kept the flag for 15 days. At their Closing Ceremony, they presented it to Albertville. The French duly passed it on to Lillehammer in 1992. The Olympic winter cycle was also changed by this time and ever since 1994 the Games have always been held in a separate year from the Summer version.

The Royal Canadian Mounted Police troop the Olympic flag from the arena during the Vancouver 2010 Closing Ceremony ©AFP/Getty Images



In recent years, the exchange of the Oslo flag has been the prelude to a cultural display by the next host city. Although a link with Moscow's Red Square flashed onto the giant television screens at the close of the Montreal 1976 summer Olympics , this ritual really took flight for the first time at the 1984 Los Angeles Games when the Seoul City dance troupe performed on stage in the Coliseum after receiving the Olympic flag. Now another South Korean city will perform the handover segment.

In 1998, the performance by Salt Lake City astounded the crowds in Nagano. A stage coach complete with horses burst onto the stage followed by cowboys. It was meant to symbolise the pioneering spirit but when the Salt Lake bribery scandal broke later that year, many felt it was more reminiscent of the excesses of the Wild West.

The Dean Martin classic Volare was a central part of the Turin handover, and in 2006 first nation Eskimos built the Vancouver symbol at the Stadio Olimpico. In 2010, Vancouver Mayor Gregor Robertson returned the ceremonial Olympic flag to IOC President Jacques Rogge who in turn passed it on to Anatoly Pakhomov, Mayor of Sochi. Then came a rousing rendition of the Russian national anthem by a Moscow choir, before a magical ballet against a backdrop of the sea by moonlight. Mugssorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition and Tchaicovsky's Symphony Pathetique were both heard, alongside Borodin's Polotsvian Dance from Prince Igor, music also performed at the Opening Ceremony in Sochi.

A magical ballet against a backdrop of the sea by moonlight was performed in Vancouver to herald the handover to Sochi ©Getty Images



The Closing Ceremony is a time for reflection and also for looking forward. The raising of three flags is an important ritual as the Games move towards their close.

The flag of Greece is hoisted to the mast head to the strains of their national anthem "Hymn to freedom" to symbolise the origins of the Games. Then the flag and anthem for the present hosts, in this case Sochi in Russia, is performed followed by the South Korean anthem for the next Winter Olympic city .

These used to be played one after the other, but now the respective anthems are separated throughout the ceremony, which it has to be said, lessens the symbolic impact somewhat. It is something that would benefit from the IOC laying down the law.

The last such three flag ceremony to be held in Russia had an interesting political twist. The Americans boycotted the 1980 Games in  Moscow and were unwilling to allow the Stars and Stripes to be flown. After some frantic behind the scenes discussions and a late night call to Los Angeles Mayor Tom Bradley, it was the less familiar green, gold and red flag of the city which flew in the Lenin Stadium.

Tradition play an important part in an Olympic Closing Ceremony ©Getty Images



For the second successive Winter Games, the Closing Ceremony will be held indoors at the same arena which staged the Opening. This recalls an earlier tradition when the closing was often held in the inside skating hall.

At Sarajevo in 1984, the ceremony was very modest indeed by comparison with recent spectaculars. It was held at the Zetra Ice rink, where Katarina Witt, Scott Hamilton and Torvill and Dean had all starred in the previous week. Mascot Vucko, the little wolf, skated in line with children. Calgary 1988 mascots Hidy and Howdy also appeared on stage

"It was great in Sarajevo, see you in Calgary," sang the choir in farewell.

Juan Antonio Samaranch presented the Organising Committee chairman Branko Mikulic with the Olympic order in gold, thus beginning another tradition of sorts.

"As this great festival of sport and peace comes to the end, and we must say goodbye to Sarajevo, I am convinced that these Games will remain forever in our hearts and memories. Dovidjenja Yugoslavia, Dovidjenja Drago Sarajevo [Goodbye Yugoslavia, farewell dear Sarajevo]," he said. Samaranch never forgot the affection he held for the city in Bosnia Herzegovina.

His speech was in stark contrast to the hard hitting words of his predecessor Lord Killanin at Lake Placid in 1980. Those Games had taken place against a backdrop of uncertainty in the Olympic Movement. US President Jimmy Carter was calling for a boycott of the Moscow Olympics.

"If we can all come together, it will be for a better world and will avoid the holocaust which may well descend if we are not careful." Killanin used similar words that summer in Moscow and on both occasions received an ovation from the crowd.

Calgary started a trend for outdoor ceremonies in 1988. Skaters saluted the flags of all nations before the flame died. The choir performed the Olympic Anthem in the original Greek as the famous five-ringed flag was struck.

"You have captured our hearts. And some of you have soared like eagles," said organising chief Frank King and the crowd roared their approval. British ski jumper Eddie the Eagle Edwards had been one of the unexpected heroes of the Games, despite finishing last in the ski jumping. Most Canadians recognised his courage in participating in one of the most daunting of all Olympic events.

In 1994, the small town of Lillehammer in Norway staged magical Games which many still feel were the greatest ever. But many were thinking the host city from a decade before. Spectators were given a special flashlight bearing the words "Remember Sarajevo" now in the midst of a brutal civil war.

The magical Games of Lillehammer 1994 - during its Closing Ceremony, spectators were given a special flashlight bearing the words "Remember Sarajevo" ©Getty Images



"After many horrors, the situation seems to be improving," said Samaranch at the Closing Ceremony. "Let us hope that this truce, to which we have contributed in our own limited way, let us hope that this truce will turn into a lasting peace."

Lillehammer organisers had also been very conscious of their responsibilities to the environment. MayorAudun Tron gave a "message stick" to an environmental expedition who began a one-and-a-half year journey on skis, drawn by dog teams from Lillehammer, across Siberia, to Nagano. Once in Nagano, they were to deliver an environmental message.

Dinosaurs roared at Salt Lake but if the voices seemed familiar, they were. In a scene reminiscent of the unmasking of the Wizard of Oz, the identities of the two were revealed as Donny and Marie Osmond.

Donny joined children to sing Inspire the Spirit and once the flame had died, Christina Aguilera was on hand to entertain the athletes

In 2010, the Canadians made light of the way the cauldron had not quite worked at their opening ceremony in a light-hearted ceremony. "Canada is my home team," said Michael J Fox. "My name is Bill and I am proud to be a Canadian," said William Shatner, known to many as Captain James Kirk from the cult sixties television series Star Trek.

Now the spotlight falls on Sochi. Buses have carried the cast to the Fisht stadium for the final rehearsals over this past week. If the Opening Ceremony is any guide, Sochi's farewell to the world will be equally as spectacular.

From time to time, a friend and fellow sportswriter likes to josh me about a supposed insight I offered him at the 2002 Salt Lake Winter Games. This took the form of a swiftly drawn diagram on a crumpled piece of paper - I think he still has it - and related to the tactics which might be employed by the skip of the British women's curling team, Rhona Martin, during the gold medal match against Switzerland.

I think I must have been out of my tiny mind. Had I offered some kind of theory about 1500 metres running, or even the pluses and minuses of packing midfield at the expense of leaving only one man up front, I might have been on safer, if unspectacular ground. But curling?

Well, the thing is, this is a sport which somehow draws the observer in. Believe me, I wasn't the only instant expert watching that match. Like the stones themselves, you can find yourself gliding inexorably into the House of Curling.

Shortly before the 1998 Nagano Games, where curling - whose origins have been traced back to the 16th century, and Scotland - made a belated official entry to the Olympic programme, I spoke to the proud Scot preparing to skip the British men's team, Dougie Dryburgh, and his precise explanation of some of the game's finer points meant I travelled to Japan intrigued to witness it for myself.

Britain's team at the 1924 Winter Games in Chamonix, where curling was a demonstration sport ©Hulton Archive/ Getty Images


Anyone trying to come to terms with the technical aspects of curling has first to crash through some particularly obvious barriers. "In the house." Nothing to do with DJs; everything to do with getting to the central target area, a circle of six feet radius. "Double take out." Nothing to do with excessive amounts of fast food; everything to do with knocking opponents' stones from the scoring area by hitting them with your own, a manoeuvre Britain's David Murdoch demonstrated so dramatically to earn his team a place in the Sochi semis. "Draw." Nothing to do with sharing the spoils; everything to do with getting ahead as your stone glides, or nudges, its way to the centre of the action as a scoring shot.

Dryburgh used a golfing analogy to illuminate one of the main tenets of his chosen sport. "In golf they say 'never up, never in', but it's the reverse in curling," he said. "If you deliver the stone too heavy, there's nothing you can do about it. The idea is to deliver it just a bit light, so you can speed it up by brushing in front of it."

Bing! Lightbulb comes on. Comprehension dawns...

Sadly for Flight Lieutenant - and soon to be Squadron Leader - Dryburgh, the British team could only manage seventh place in a competition where Switzerland upset the favourites Canada to claim gold.

The British women, skipped by Kirsty Hay (then married to Mike, Team GB's Chef de Mission at the Sochi Games) enjoyed far better fortunes as they reached the semi-finals, only to lose 6-5 to eventual gold medallists Canada. The late Sandra Schmirler, acknowledged as the best player in the world, produced a characteristically precise final delivery which came to rest no more than an inch closer to the centre of the house than the nearest British stone.

Sandra Schmirler sends down another delivery at the 1998 Nagano Winter Games, where she skipped the Canadian team to gold ©Getty Images


Hay had approached the Games with an attitude you might describe as feisty. "We had a responsibility here to get people to change their attitude to the image of the sport," she said. "Even when we met some of the other athletes out here they thought we were going to be Highland grannies."

Asked afterwards if she had been disappointed to lose so narrowly on the final delivery, she replied with a tight smile: "Disappointed would probably cover it." Sadly there was further disappointment in store for the British - that is, Scottish - team as they lost out to Sweden for the bronze medal.

British skip Kirsty Hay led her team to within tantalising reach of a medal at the 1998 Nagano Games ©Getty Images


Fast forward four years, and all that British and Scottish frustration turned to joy as Martin produced a final delivery of similar drama to Schmirler's in 1998.

The silence inside the Ogden Ice Sheet as the 35-year-old mother of two from the village of Dunlop, in Ayrshire prepared to make her fateful move was almost unbearable. A rapt audience of around 2,000 spectators was supplemented by 6.5 million TV viewers in Britain who were watching late into Sunday night.

The Swiss stone lay alone in the house and it was hard to see the line Martin could take to dislodge it. But as I recall, she did not at any point look up to the press benches for guidance. Instead she sent her yellow-tagged stone unerringly towards the waiting red-tagged stone, nudging it out of pole position. "It was a routine draw," Martin announced afterwards with characteristic razzmattazz.

Rhona Martin makes the gold medal-winning final delivery at the 2002 Salt Lake Winter Games ©Getty Images


This was the moment which would, and will, be celebrated down the years when this Olympic victory is remembered. But what gave the final flourish added resonance was the position in which Martin and her colleagues had found themselves a few days earlier, when successive defeats in the pool stages by the United States and Germany caused her to announce to the press: "We're out."

The Britons' only hope of retaining an interest in the 19th Winter Games was for Switzerland, who were already assured of a semi-final place, to defeat Germany in their final qualifying game.

"Both teams will be trying," said a stony-faced Martin. "But Switzerland will not do us any favours because they're already through. If they'd lost today it might have been a different situation."

Rhona Martin is embraced in the moment of victory by team-mate Fiona MacDonald as their Swiss opponents, whose honourable victory over Germany in their final pool match let Britain back into the tournament, commiserate with each other ©Getty Images


The Germans, however, could not earn the win they needed to progress, and slid back into a three-way play-off with Britain and Sweden which saw Martin and Co progress to a semi-final where they beat Canada 6-5.

The sporting fidelity of the competition had held good. And however the final medals are dispersed in the women's gold and bronze medal matches today, curling - which made six appearances at the Games as a demonstration sport before being recognised on the main programme - is becoming ever more firmly established within the Olympic "House".

Mike Rowbottom, one of Britain's most talented sportswriters, covered the London 2012 Olympics and Paralympics as chief feature writer for insidethegames, having covered the previous five summer Games, and four winter Games, for The Independent. He has worked for the Daily Mail, The Times, The Observer, The Sunday Correspondent and The Guardian. His latest book Foul Play – the Dark Arts of Cheating in Sport (Bloomsbury £12.99) is available at the insidethegames.biz shop. To follow him on Twitter click here.