Cauliflower-ears sponged and pressed, the fight game's glitterati assembled in force for this year's big bash, the annual British Boxing Board of Control gala awards in London last week. Prominent among the VIPs honouring the great and the good of the ring was the Sports Minister, Gerry Sutcliffe.
 

Not that he's noted for any significant contribution to the Noble Art as a practitioner – goalkeeping is more his game for the Parliamentary football team – but his presence and active support of the sport confirmed that boxing is no longer the pariah of sports ,un-PC and frowned upon by the 'elf and safety Gestapo. 

The battered old trade is back in vogue - as well as in schools - with strong political approval in parliament not least for its contribution in helping keep kids off the streets by getting them into gyms where they can be taught to sportingly channel any tendency towards violence.
 

In some 40 years of covering the boxing and sports politics beats I have seen a whole procession of Sports Ministers come and go, a veritable cricket team in fact, plus a 12th man. The best have championed boxing.

The late and very much lamented Denis Howell, still unrivalled as the Muhammad Ali of our Sports Ministers, was very much a boxing buff, a ringside regular in the sixties and seventies when Board members and their guests always wore dinner jackets.

One of his many successors, Richard Caborn .also knows boxing, much of it learned from his good pal in Sheffield, Brendan Ingle, the man who trained Prince Naseem Hamed among other luminaries, in the skills of hit-and-hop it ringcraft.
 

Since he stepped down as Britain’s longest-serving Sports Minister (in a single spell that is – Lord Howell did the job  twice in a total of 11 years) he has washed up as president of the Amateur Boxing Association of England (ABAE), now a constituent body of the British Amateur Boxing Association (BABA) under another of his old mates, Derek Mapp.

We never saw much of Caborn at ringside though his appreciation of  the sport was evident. Both he and Sutcliffe fought hard to get it back on the agenda in schools.
 

Dick Caborn and I are old sparring partners. Last time we met - funnily enough at a boxing function - for no reason at all he publicly accused me of being "unenthusiastic" about London’s Olympic bid. How odd. Not only was it untrue, but uncalled for. Perhaps he was being prickly as he guessed he was about be jocked off the Board of England’s 2018 World Cup bid. Or maybe it was because I was occasionally critical of some of his policies on the less fashionable sport and his dismissive treatment the much-missed Panathlon to accommodate the politically-motivated UK School Games.

By and large marathon man Caborn wasn't a bad Sports Minister. Neither, in my view, was one of his Labour predecessors, Tony Banks, the spikiest and most outspoken of them all and always a joy to deal with. When I was sports editor of The Observer I once asked him whether, as a rival newspaper was suggesting, it was true that he was supporting a proposed move by a Welsh MP to ban head punches in boxing. He said he had not even read the proposal. So would he give me an on-the-record comment on the idea? "On the record?" he queried. "Yes".

"Effing bollocks!”
 

The late Banksy loved boxing, even though he declined an invitation  to speak at the Boxing Writers' Club dinner. The reason: it was a stag do, no women allowed. The Minister thought that a no-no, and as it happened, I agreed.

I would love to have been allowed to ask one of favourite Sports Ministers, Kate Hoey, to be my guest. Kate was a big boxing fan, too, particularly of the amateur game at club level.

A disciple of Denis Howell, she proved a terrific Minister with her devotion to grass roots sport, one of he best we've ever had but viciously stabbed in the back by Tony Blair after the Premier League's Sir Dave Richards, among others, blew in his ear because of her supposed antipathy towards the great god Footy.
 

The Sports Minister most associated with boxing was little Lord Moynihan then plain Colin Moynihan, a former bantamweight boxing Blue at Oxford and famously once barred by the ABA blazers for sparring with the pros at London's Thomas A'Becket gym.

He is now chairman of the British Olympic Association, of course, and at the last Commonwealth Games so keen was he to see the fisticuffs that he dashed straight from the airport, bags and all, and breathlessly dumped himself beside me in the media seats to savour the action at Melbourne's boxing arena. Like fellow sporting peer Lord Seb Coe (who has served as a  steward of the Board of Control), he is a boxing nut.
 

Moreover, he cheerfully endured having is own ears boxed by Margaret Thatcher on several occasions.
 

By comparison, the depressingly long line of Tory Sports Ministers who preceded and followed him under Thatcher and then John  Major were real down-the-bill journeymen: Eldon Griffiths,  Neil Macfarlane,  Hector Munro, Robert Key, Iain "Deep" Sproat, Richard Tracey and Robert Atkins. None, as I recall, having any particular affinity with boxing or boxing clever in the job themselves. And, lest we forget, the first-ever Sports Minister was Lord Hailsham, who rang a bell - though not a boxing one.
 

Luckily the man who, it seems, is likely to be the next Conservative Sports Minister, Hugh Robertson, is a a bit of aficionado too. He boxed at Sandhurst, and spoke punchily at this year's Boxing Writers’ Club dinner. A top man, Hugh, and if the Tories get in then sport and the Olympics will be in good hands.
 

But back to last boxing Oscars. Another notable politico present was Lord Tom Pendry, long-time Labour Shadow Minister for sport but surprisingly gazumped for the post when Blair appointed Tony Banks, Some say Pendry was the best Sports Minister we never had. The young Pendry was taught boxing by a Benedictine monk and, like Moynihan, became an Oxford Blue, and eventually a Services champion with the RAF. He has also served on the Boxing Board.

The gathering of the political bigwigs was a sure sign that boxing is back in the public eye, thanks to, among others, giant-killer David Haye, who smilingly signed some 300 autographs during the dinner, albeit somewhat shakily with his fractured right hand in plaster. That's the difference between fighters and footballers. They are the real pros.

There was a bonus for the amateurs, too when the world super-middleweight champion Carl Froch was named Boxer of the Year. Froch is trained by Robert McCracken. newly-appointed as performance director and head coach to the GB Olympic squad.
 

And while we're in boxing mode, just for fun here is my bunch of five, a ranking of sports ministers I have known and loved (well, some of them). In descending order: 1 - Denis Howell, 2 - Kate Hoey, 3- Colin Moynihan, 4 - Richard Caborn, 5 - Tony Banks.

I haven't included present incumbent Gerry Sutcliffe because, while he he is doing a decent job, he keeps a low profile and seems in need of  tips on how to raise it. Perhaps that's why he was chatting so earnestly to the Hayemaker.

Alan Hubbard is an award-winning sports columnist for The Independent on Sunday, and a former sports editor of The Observer. He has covered 11 summer Olympics and scores of world title fights from Atlanta to Zaire, and is a former chairman of the Boxing Writers’ Club.

December 4 - The news that Kelly Holmes has topped a poll to find the favourite British sportswoman of the last 25 years is grand - but not surprising.

Five years after she effectively concluded her athletics career by winning the Olympic 800 and 1500 metres titles in Athens, that transforming achievement, and perhaps the look of demented disbelief as she crossed the line for the first of those victories, clearly remain vivid in popular memory.
 

But what was most interesting about the research conducted by the Women's Sport and Fitness Foundation (WSFF) from a sample of over 2,000 UK people was that Holmes's triumphs, although earning her the individual vote, had to give best in the second category of Iconic Moments in the last 25 years of British women’s sport to the one which secured Winter Olympic gold a full quarter of a century ago.
 

Strictly speaking the credit for top billing must be shared - Jayne Torvill was one hell of a competitor, but even she could not have won her Olympic ice dance title at the 1984 Sarajevo Games without her partner Christopher Dean.

Their distant, extended flourish to the slowly unwinding music of Ravel's Bolero, in a city doomed to the ravage of civil war, has an enduring appeal in the national consciousness.
 

Not, of course, that it is the only relatively distant sporting achievement by a British sportswoman to be recognised here.
 

Sally Gunnell earns third place in the individual list, and ninth in the performances, with her 400m hurdles victory at the 1992 Barcelona Olympics.
 

That disciplined, technical performance, which took her clear of the straggling challenge of America’s gaudily-attired favourite, Sandra Farmer-Patrick, was the start of a two-year period in which the farmer's daughter from Essex was unbeatable.
 

A personal memory of Gunnell is from 1994 as she sat beneath the statue of Lasse Viren that stands close to the Olympic stadium in Helsinki where she had just completed a grand slam of titles by adding the final element of the European title. She was world record holder too.
 

For two solid years, the sight of her upright form arriving at the first set of hurdles in the final straight meant just one thing: imminent victory. Gunnell’s high hurdles background meant no one had a more economical technique. And the work she did with coach, Bruce Longden, combined with her own stubborn nature, meant no one was going to out run her. The woman was unbeatable.
 

Inevitably the sequence had to end, and by the time she arrived in Atlanta to defend her title her challenge had been undermined by an injury that eventually saw her carried tearfully from the Olympic track.
 

There were tears at the Olympics too for another performer who obviously has a lasting place in the public psyche. Tessa Sanderson's emotion upon winning the javelin title at the 1984 Los Angeles Games was tangibly evident as she stood on top of the rostrum, and that image must surely have played a big part in her inclusion as an individual at number nine, and in the iconic moments list as number ten.

Again, though I did not witness her golden Olympic flourish, my favourite memory of Sanderson came six years later when, after winning her third Commonwealth title in Auckland, she returned to the mixed zone trailing clouds of righteous glory and laid into the Australian silver medallist, Sue Howland, who she believed should not have returned to the sport after serving a ban for steroid abuse. Sanderson was comfortably in the gold medal zone after, as well as during, her scheduled event.
 

Coincidentally, Sanderson and Gunnell retired on the same day in August 1997 during the World Championships in Athens. Thus, in the space of three hours, British athletics said goodbye to two of its greatest female competitors.
 

But what is it, you wonder, that makes those moments on ice in Sarajevo so truly iconic?
 

It helped, I suppose, that it was perfection – at least, it earned a perfect round of maximum marks from the judges.
 

The routine and the music proved to be a sublime match. And the romance of the dance was supplemented by wishful thinking on a countrywide basis about a corresponding romance between the two competitors.
 

Again, I wasn’t there. Like millions of Britons, I experienced the Bolero performance – again and again – on television.
 

But ten years later, when Torvill and Dean came out of retirement to have another crack at the Olympics, I was there. The effect of their re-emergence was enormous. Imagine if Eric Cantona were to stage a comeback at Old Trafford, or Seb Coe and Steve Ovett were to return to the track.
 

The public impact their return engendered was a measure of the impact they had made back in 1984. As it turned out, having cruised perfectly through the national championships to a background of swooning noises, T&D found inevitably, that the world had moved on in their absence as they warmed-up for the 1994 Lillehammer Olympics by entering the European Championships in Copenhagen a month earlier.
 

Although they won in Copenhagen, they did so almost on a technicality ahead of the exuberant Russian pair of Oksana Gritschuk and Evgeny Platov, who won the free dance section, and - as the British pair probably knew in their bones before they left Denmark for Norway - went on to take the Olympic gold, with the Britons, resembling a beautiful vintage car, having to settle for bronze.

Before they left Copenhagen, the still, just, golden pair were asked if they would have altered their comeback routine had they known how the judging nuances had changed in their absence. They responded in unison, but for once they were at cross-purposes. "Perhaps" said Torvill. "Yes" said Dean.
 

It was too late. But, as this poll indicates, it didn't matter. Sarajevo was enough for history.

Mike Rowbottom, one of Britain's most talented sportswriters, has covered the last five Summer and four Winter Olympics for The Independent. Previously he has worked for the Daily Mail, The Times, The Observer, the Sunday Correspondent and The Guardian. He is now chief feature writer for insidethegames.

Today is the 25th Birthday of the Women's Sport and Fitness Foundation (WSFF). To celebrate, we are launching a new report - Celebrating Silver, Going for Gold - which provides an overview of a quarter century of records from women’s sport.

As well as being a good excuse to look back at some outstanding achievements, this milestone in our life as a campaigning charity also provides an apt moment to pause, and consider what more needs to be done.

When WSFF was born, in 1984, women were not invited to compete in the marathon, the 5,000 metres, the triple jump, the pole vault, the hammer throw, the steeplechase, or boxing at the Olympic Games.

There was no women's Tour de France. No women's football World Cup. Britain had never hosted an international women's rugby game.

A female face had never presented Grandstand or offered commentary on Match of the Day. There were no women at the top of Premier League football clubs (or the First Division, as it was then). No female football referees. No female football agents. The Royal and Ancient had never allowed women onto its course or into its locker rooms. Women were not allowed into the MCC. No women sat on the Board of the English Cricket Board. A woman had never been named in Wisden's top cricketers of the year.

Back then, women were not able to play professionally in any team sport. And if you were the winning woman at Wimbledon, you received less prize money than the winning man.

These are just some of the things that have changed in the last 25 years. And some of it more recently than many might think – you’ll have to take a look at our birthday report Celebrating Silver, Going for Gold to find out when these "firsts" took place.

Also, 25 years ago we had not witnessed the amazing successes of our brilliant female athletes and sports stars – starting with Tessa Sanderson and Jayne Torvill in 1984 some of the amazing women we have enjoyed watching since then include Laura Davies, Dame Tanni Grey-Thompson, Liz McColgan, Sally Gunnell, Denise Lewis, Shirley Robertson, Paula Radcliffe, Dame Kelly Holmes, Gail Emms, Dame Ellen MacArthur, Kelly Smith, Claire Taylor, Chrissie Wellington, Nicole Cooke, Victoria Pendleton, Christine Ohuruogu, Rebecca Adlington, Ellie Simmonds, Sarah Storey and Jessica Ennis.

Amazing women, and amazing achievements, one and all. 

Of all of these women, the one that the British public think is the stand out star of the last 25 years is Kelly Holmes (pictured), and for many of those we interviewed for our report, her wide-eyed amazement at her own success has stuck out as the most iconic female sporting moment of the last quarter century.

Since then, Kelly has worked tirelessly to use her profile to encourage more girls to get into sport, and to raise the profile of women’s sport in the UK. A fitting winner. Congratulations, Kelly. So, much has changed in the British sports sector. And women's sport has produced some amazing athletes and sporting moments. Is there much left to do?

Well, today only five per cent of all sports media coverage is devoted to women's sport; women's sport receives a fraction of the financial investment; and only one in five sports leaders are women – there are still no women represented on the governing bodies of the Football Association or British Cycling to name just two. We also still need to persuade Amir Khan that boxing is not a sport that should be left to men. And help Michael Stich understand that female tennis players are not just there to sell sex.

Some of these challenges are easily fixable - appointing women onto sports Boards or opening up the membership of sports clubs is not difficult to do if the current decision-makers were willing. Even changing less progressive minds about the validity and value of women’s sport is do-able with some persistent persuasion.
But growing the profile and revenue for British women’s sport from its currently low base is a much bigger and tougher challenge. And without the profile, the money won't come in. And without the role models, girls won’t get the sports bug and grow up dreaming of being a sports star as so many boys do.

However, conditions are ripe for further change. With 2012 fast approaching and an obesity crisis looming, British sport has never before been so much in the limelight. And women's sport at the moment is on fire - from grassroots football to elite success.

We at the WSFF are fighting fit and punching way above our weight. When the Prime Minister re-launched the charity with the extra "F" in 2007, we knew we could attract powerful backing. Since then, we have enjoyed fantastic support from some of the most senior men and women from British sport and beyond, including athletes, administrators and those in the commercial side of sport. Some of them are represented on our Commission on the Future of Women's Sport, launched in 2008 with a remit to unlock the potential of British women’s sport.

It's key interests are leadership, media profile and investment. We have set ourselves some far-reaching targets for 2015: 25 per cent of sports media coverage to be devoted to women’s sport, 30 per cent female Board representation, and double the amount of private sector investment.

Please do keep in touch with the Commission through our website and help carry its work out to the world. We might be perfectly formed, but we are a small charity, so rely entirely on the help of our supporters to ensure we achieve our goals. So, gather round to blow the candles out on the cake and then let's get back to work making even more strides forward for British women's sport.

Cheers!

Sue Tibballs is the chief executive of the WSFF. She began her career at the Women's Environmental Network in 1992, founded the Women's Communication Centre think tank, before joining The Body Shop as campaigns manager.

Today we're celebrating a key point in time as it's 1,000 days to go until the start of the London 2012 Paralympic Games. At BT we're really excited and working very hard to prepare the communications infrastructure that will deliver a range of vital communications services and applications to help the Games run as smoothly as possible.

We're also recruiting BT volunteers to provide support during the annual BT Paralympic World Cup that serves as an excellent platform for our top disabled athletes to prepare.

I have to say that we are incredibly proud to be associated and involved with the 2012 Paralympic Games.

Not everyone realises this but at BT we have demonstrated our commitment to disability in the UK through our long association with the Paralympic Movement. We were the British Paralympic Association's first commercial partner in 1989 and we're a Partner of ParalympicsGB as part of our London 2012 Partnership. We are also the title sponsor for the BT Paralympic World Cup for the next three years.

The dedication, skill and talent of Paralympians is amazing. BT supports ParalympicsGB because we want our athletes to be the best they can be - and the same goes for our people inside BT. 

Many employees have told me how truly motivated they've been when they had the chance to meet some of the coaches and hear from our Paralympic Ambassadors - Oscar Pistorius, Ade Adepitan, Nathan Stephens, Lee Pearson and of course BT's very own Paralympian footballer, Richard Fox.

Our employees have been, and continue to be, truly inspired and frankly in awe of what these individuals have accomplished both on and off the sporting field. Their achievements are a great source of encouragement and motivation for our employees during what has been a difficult time for all of us during this period of recession.  Many employees are looking forward to getting involved in the Paralympic Games as a volunteer and will be signing up to take part.

As well as our association with the 2012 Paralympic Games we run a campaign called 'Including You'. This initiative brings together everything BT does on disability and inclusion from improving disabled customers' experience of BT's services to product design and policies and practices that allow disabled employees to deliver their best.  

Disability and Inclusion is not a specialist subject or something we can leave to the experts. We all have a part to play in creating products, services and a workplace that can be enjoyed by everyone and in which everyone can participate and contribute.

Statistics tell us that a third of all people in the UK are disabled or close to someone who is* and there are 650 million disabled people worldwide**. These are big numbers that cannot be ignored.  We should all play a part in making disability something that is normal and not something that is necessarily special or different. 

This 1,000 Days To Go milestone seems a good time to reflect on the bigger picture of Disability and Inclusion within the UK. The fact that London will host the 2012 Paralympic Games provides this country with a wonderful opportunity and, as well as considering whether we are doing all we can to raise the profile of Paralympic athletes and sport, we also need to look at whether we can do more to make disability a business-as-usual activity in our day-to-day work and home lives.

*ONS Census 2001
** United Nations Convention on Rights of Persons with Disabilities, 2007

Sally Davis is CEO of BT Wholesale and is the pan-BT Disability & Inclusion Champion. BT is the official communications services partner for the London 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games and title sponsor of the BT Paralympic World Cup.  For more information click here.

Today we're celebrating a key point in time as it's 1,000 days to go until the start of the London 2012 Paralympic Games. At BT we're really excited and working very hard to prepare the communications infrastructure that will deliver a range of vital communications services and applications to help the Games run as smoothly as possible.

We're also recruiting BT volunteers to provide support during the annual BT Paralympic World Cup that serves as an excellent platform for our top disabled athletes to prepare.

I have to say that we are incredibly proud to be associated and involved with the 2012 Paralympic Games.

Not everyone realises this but at BT we have demonstrated our commitment to disability in the UK through our long association with the Paralympic Movement. We were the British Paralympic Association's first commercial partner in 1989 and we're a Partner of ParalympicsGB as part of our London 2012 Partnership. We are also the title sponsor for the BT Paralympic World Cup for the next three years.

The dedication, skill and talent of Paralympians is amazing. BT supports ParalympicsGB because we want our athletes to be the best they can be - and the same goes for our people inside BT. 

Many employees have told me how truly motivated they've been when they had the chance to meet some of the coaches and hear from our Paralympic Ambassadors - Oscar Pistorius, Ade Adepitan, Nathan Stephens, Lee Pearson and of course BT's very own Paralympian footballer, Richard Fox.

Our employees have been, and continue to be, truly inspired and frankly in awe of what these individuals have accomplished both on and off the sporting field. Their achievements are a great source of encouragement and motivation for our employees during what has been a difficult time for all of us during this period of recession.  Many employees are looking forward to getting involved in the Paralympic Games as a volunteer and will be signing up to take part.

As well as our association with the 2012 Paralympic Games we run a campaign called 'Including You'. This initiative brings together everything BT does on disability and inclusion from improving disabled customers' experience of BT's services to product design and policies and practices that allow disabled employees to deliver their best.  

Disability and Inclusion is not a specialist subject or something we can leave to the experts. We all have a part to play in creating products, services and a workplace that can be enjoyed by everyone and in which everyone can participate and contribute.

Statistics tell us that a third of all people in the UK are disabled or close to someone who is* and there are 650 million disabled people worldwide**. These are big numbers that cannot be ignored.  We should all play a part in making disability something that is normal and not something that is necessarily special or different. 

This 1,000 Days To Go milestone seems a good time to reflect on the bigger picture of Disability and Inclusion within the UK. The fact that London will host the 2012 Paralympic Games provides this country with a wonderful opportunity and, as well as considering whether we are doing all we can to raise the profile of Paralympic athletes and sport, we also need to look at whether we can do more to make disability a business-as-usual activity in our day-to-day work and home lives.

*ONS Census 2001
** United Nations Convention on Rights of Persons with Disabilities, 2007

Sally Davis is CEO of BT Wholesale and is the pan-BT Disability & Inclusion Champion. BT is the official communications services partner for the London 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games and title sponsor of the BT Paralympic World Cup.  For more information click here.

I will admit, when I turned up at Bath University to train with reigning netball Superleague champions TeamBath, I wasn't all that prepared.

Nor did I know an awful amount about the sport other than what I had seen on the school playground (which is not a lot in every sense of the term).
 

I was rather tired from a hard day (yes, pull out the violins) and hadn't really given the event too much thought.

But who cared?

I was a reasonably fit guy. I go for regular jogs and play a bit of six-a-side football most Sundays. And after all, I was only taking on a bunch of girls!

How hard could it be?

So it was with the arrogant attitude that I emerged from the pristine changing rooms kitted out in my tracksuit and ready to strut my stuff and show the netballers how a real athlete does it!

Being the only male in the vicinity (a fact I surprisingly wasn't overly bothered about) I was prepared for an easy ride when the first drill was announced by TeamBath coach Jess Garland: a warm-up game of Frisbee.

I was in easy-street!

We split into two teams and netball rules applied meaning that you were not allowed to move with the Frisbee in hand and had to get to the opponents end to score.

So we began.

And then it suddenly dawned on me and far too late in the day; these girls were serious athletes.

They move around count with lightning pace and the reflexes of the most agile slip-fielder.

I thought that they were cheating and moving when the had the Frisbee but they simple caught and passed so fast, it gave the false illusion that they were not playing by the rules.

I started foolishly running around trying to catch the Frisbee but at the pace it was travelling, I could barely see it let alone lay a finger on it.

But then my increasingly battered pride took over, demanding that I put in more effort to avoid utter humiliation.

So I dug deep, wiped the reservoir of sweat from my brow and increased my tempo, managing even to catch the Frisbee once (though I also missed a catch spectacularly at one point where the Frisbee careered into the side of my head).

My problems however, quickly multiplied as a ball was added into the mix.
 

I didn't know whether to go for the Frisbee or the ball and as a result, ended up stupidly turning in circles on the spot.

Then - to my immense relief - the whistle blew singling the end of the practice.
 

"Excellent," I thought, "time for a drink and a much needed five minute breather."
 

No such luck unfortunately.

This wasn't the rugby training I had become accustomed to during my playing days with the charismatic but limited – particularly when it came to the cardiovascular department - University of Bedfordshire; this was training with a netball team who were comfortable victors in last years National Superleague Tournament.

Unlike me, they did not require rest between strenuous exercise and barely looked out-of-breath from the surprisingly vigorous warm-up as we moved on to a passing exercise which involved three attackers attempting to score past two defenders.
 

Needless to say, I did not excel in the drill and got about a close to scoring as Hull City to the Premier League title.  

We moved on again to another passing drill which involved quickly manoeuvring the ball around in groups of three but at this point, I was seeing stars due to my immense fatigue at the intensity of the activity.

They say that in boxing "Speed Kills"; well that is certainly a saying that can be applied to netball as I saw girls stretching dramatically to catch balls than can be more accurately described as fast-paced white blurs.

Despite my regular self-criticism, I am no slouch and have participated in a few physical sports in my time including rugby union and league, football, boxing, tennis and basketball and I can assure you that netball is faster than any of these.

The hand-eye coordination involved is mind-numbing and the handling skill puts some of the best scrum-halves I have played with to shame.

If you don’t believe me, tune in to Sky Sports on the evening of December 10 for the first match of the new Superleague where TeamBath take on Northern Thunder and see for yourself.

Better still, go along to the Sports Training Village at Bath at 8pm and have a watch because I can find no adjective to describe the blistering pace that is a feature of the game at this level.

We ended the training with a match and with one last heroic surge, I valiantly tried to mark my opposite number.
But I would have had more success trying to catch my own shadow as I could not get close to her so fast was she around the court and so quick was her ominous change of direction.

Like I said, "Speed Kills".

I finished the training session with a few aches and pains but I think it is my ego that will take the most time to recover as I had the obvious truth thrust upon me that there are girls who can annihilate me in physical activity.

And tremendous physical activity at that.

I never thought I would hear myself say this but I see no non-Olympic sport more worthy of a place on the programme than netball.

It is a fantastic game encompassing speed, skill, power, accuracy and finesse and I see no reason why it would not make a worthy addition to the Olympics.

Although netball will unfortunately not be featuring at the London 2012 Olympics or even the Rio 2016 Games, 2020 remains a strong possibility as up to and including Prime Minister Gordon Brown has said he would like to see the most popular girl's sport in the country feature at the greatest sporting event.

In fact, TeamBath and England international Eboni Beckford-Chambers organised a facebook petition group which over 40,000 people joined to support the inclusion of netball at the Olympics Games as revealed to me that "support has come from no less than Dame Kelly Holmes, Mark Ramprakash and Cherie Blair".

And Garland told me: "Guys that I know that have come have given it a try or watch the game realise just how fast it is and how much skill is involved."

I was no exception.

So if you get the chance to watch the Superleague, make sure you do and then bang the drum for the sport's readily justifiable inclusion at the Olympic Games.

After my enlightening yet humbling experience, I certainly will.
 

Tom Degun is a reporter with insidethegames.biz

It was one of those moments when you don't quite believe what your ears are telling you.

There we were, we Olympic scriveners, ensconced in the plush London offices of some accountancy firm, trying our hardest to stay alert and focused at one of the periodic press conferences given when the International Olympic Committee's Coordination Commission (COCOM) is in town.

This is the body that monitors preparations for the London 2012 Summer Games on the IOC's behalf.

These events have acquired a reputation as the dullest of assignments over the years largely because, from the perspective of everyone except those picking up the bill, everything has been going so well.

No news really is good news as far as COCOM is concerned.

So, as I say, there we were listening to COCOM chairman Denis Oswald's introduction, journalistic expectations pitched appropriately low, when the avuncular IOC member from Neuchatel starts talking about a "very tense meeting”"

Pardon me?

True, Oswald also made the habitual glowing references to the state of preparations – phrases such as "very positive" and "we really start feeling the Games taking shape" jump out from my notebook.

Nonetheless, it was no surprise when the first question from the floor (we are a cussed and contrary bunch) asked Oswald to elaborate on what he meant by "tense".

A pregnant pause.

"I meant 'intense'.”" Cue a palpable release of tension around the room. "I apologise for my poor English [de dum de dum de dum]."

And there, after barely three minutes, disappeared our hopes of a story with a cartoon-like 'Phut'.

To be fair, as those who have read my colleague Tom Degun's admirable report will know, there was half a story, in the shape of the ongoing – but hopefully soon-to-be-concluded - saga over the sports that are now to be staged at Wembley Arena, on the other side of town from the Olympic Park, to save the cost of building a new temporary venue.

But in the shipping forecast of Olympic news, that ranks as a gentle sou'-westerly.

My purpose in bringing this up is not to poke fun at Oswald's language skills, which are considerable.

Nor is it to curry sympathy for we hacks as we labour to bring you the first draft of  history. (Oh all right, just a little.)

Mainly, it is because I sense that an opportunity is being missed here.

As these things go, this was a reasonably distinguished gathering – the London Organising Committee top brass, high-ranking IOC members and officials and most of the top London-based journalists in the field.

Yet the whole event had about as much life as Monty Python’s parrot.

I suspect we all knew with 95 per cent certainty that this was how it would pan out, yet we dutifully turned up and fulfilled our allotted roles, like characters in a ritualistic drama.

Why, I wonder, doesn't somebody in London or, more likely, Lausanne take it upon themselves to use these occasions to inject some mildly worthwhile content into the proceedings?

Clearly there would be times when such efforts were wasted.

Not every COCOM meeting is destined to be dull; I imagine some in the run-up to the 2004 Athens Games were positively lively.

When a burning issue does pop up, there will be no getting away from it and that's what the media will concentrate on.

But events such as this are essentially a waste of everyone’s time.

Indeed, it could be worse than that if unscrupulous, or more likely harassed, journos start trying to manufacture stories where none exist.

I am not suggesting that this is the right forum for the IOC to make its most earth-shattering announcements.

But if briefings were arranged on, say, 'How the movement is weathering the economic crisis', or 'What is set to change as a result of last month's Olympic Congress', at least we would have something to fall back on when the press conference yields merely another satisfactory progress report.

I’m just saying.

David Owen is a specialist sports journalist who 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 last year's Beijing Olympics. An archive of Owen’s material may be found by Twitter users at www.twitter.com/dodo938.

Whenever I hear the word passion in a sporting context I release the safety catch on my revolver.
 

Obviously I don't have an actual revolver. I' m talking here of a notional revolver.
 

And the notional safety catch gets taken off, because, like "culture", passion spells trouble.
 

"Passion", for example, was the excuse forwarded by John Terry for Didier Drogba’s crazed rant at the referee following last season's infamous Champions League exit by Chelsea at the hands of Barcelona. OK, the word itself wasn't used by the Chelsea captain, but that was his general point, and a journalist filled in the blank. We are often helpful in that way.
 

Subsequently, if reports are to be believed, Drogba was moved to apologise for his "passion" because it had embarrassed his son.
 

"Passion" is the managerial excuse for a brutal tackle. "Passion" is the slithery justification for the spectator who think that paying to attend an event justifies their pouring verbal poison onto it from the first minute to the last.
 

In the sporting context, "passion" is all too often an excuse for excess, whether from those who perform or those who watch. The French justice system did away with the defence of  "crime passionel" 30 years ago. Not so sport.
 

But then, sport attracts hyperbole.
 

Sport is Hyperbole HQ.  Sport has Hyperbole in the House – Big Style. Sport comes Home to Hyperbole.
 

On  rare occasions, the hyperbole can correspond to something like the reality. Rio's recent victory in the contest to host the 2016 Olympics, for instance, was established with the slogan: Live Your Passion.
 

Oh dear. And yet the proponents of this bid addressed IOC members with such palpable passion that their slogan seemed justified. Well, almost.
 

No sport seems immune to over-egging itself.
 

You'd think that badminton would be one of the sensible ones, wouldn’t you?
 

Badminton - as played in village halls throughout England by the sprightly middle-aged. Prime advantage thereof – unlike a tennis ball, when you whack a shuttlecock out of court you don’t have to go miles to retrieve it.
 

I could think of a couple of slogans that would suit.
 

"Badminton – really good fun."
 

There's one.
 

Here's another.
 

"Badminton – not bad at all."
 

Again, does the job.
 

But who am I kidding? We all know that, like so many games that were once the domain of those proving they were Still Good At Their Age, badminton is now the domain of dynamic youth.
 

An Olympic sport indeed, which is more than long-suffering squash can say.
 

And as far as Britain is concerned, a sport in which its top performers have achieved at the highest level, with Simon Archer and Joanne Goode taking bronze at the Sydney Games and with Nathan Robertson and Gail Emms getting one step further up the podium in Athens four years later before winning All-England and world titles in the space of the next two seasons.
 

More recently, the mixed doubles pair of Anthony Clark and Donna Kellogg (pictured), beaten by their friends and training companions in the 2006 world final, have stepped up to take the European title.
 

Since 2000, Badminton England - with the assistance of Lottery funding - has nurtured its players at their Milton Keynes HQ by surrounding them with some of the world’s leading coaches from Korea, China and Indonesia.
 

Three years ago, the national body felt emboldened to publish a mission statement entitled "The 100-Point Plan – a decade of delivery."
 

The intention was not, as it might first appear, a takeover of the troubled Royal Mail. It was for England to become, by 2016, "the No.1 playing nation in the world."

With Emms, and this week Kellogg, retiring, that lofty ambition seems some way from being realised. In the current world rankings, the flag of St George appears only once in the top 10 of any category, with Robertson and Clark ranking 10th in the men's doubles.
 

That said, the presence of young talents such as Chris Adcock, Robert Blair, Gabrielle White, former European junior champion Rajiv Ouseph and Jenny Wallwork, the 22-year-old who has replaced Emms as Robertson’s mixed doubles partner, offers genuine hope of resurgence in time for London 2012.
 

Replacing China or Indonesia as the world’s top dogs still looks like a bit of a stretch, but then – what's the point of having an unambitious ambition?
 

I fear, however, that the passion thing has left its dread mark on this sport. Evidence for the prosecution – the Badminton England slogan: "Play it, love it, live it."

Play it. Of course.
 

Love it. Why not?
 

But live it? How do you live a sport?
 

I think Kellogg's well-considered course of action after a decade of international success sounds more sensible.
 

As she steps away to concentrate more of her sporting energy on following her local football club, Derby County, the bemedalled 31-year-old’s personal slogan would be: "Play It. Love It. Live By It. Leave It."

Now that's sensible.

Mike Rowbottom, one of Britain's most talented sportswriters, has covered the last five Summer and four Winter Olympics for The Independent. Previously he has worked for the Daily Mail, The Times, The Observer, the Sunday Correspondent and The Guardian. He is now chief feature writer for insidethegames.

No Olympic sport, with the possible exception of financially-savaged shooting, has suffered more vicissitudes since Beijing than amateur boxing. 

The brutal axing of Terry Edwards, the most successful coach in GB history, was followed by the defection to the professionals of six of the original eight Olympians with two of them, plus Edwards taking legal action against the governing body, the Amateur Boxing Association (ABA)

This amid substantial upheaval and reorganisation with the formation of the umbrella body, the British Amateur Boxing Association (BABA) under the stewardship of former Sport England supremo Derek Mapp.  He controversially appointed  Kevin Hickey, out of the game for 20 years, as performance director. 

Hickey in turn brought in Kelvyn Travis as head coach thus splitting the two jobs done by Edwards. Both have now departed within a few months, Travis just over a week ago when professional trainer Robert McCracken, a former British middleweight champion was hired to replace Hickey. McCracken then decided he wanted to be head coach too, so out went Travis. 

In the meantime the new look GB squad had returned medal-less from the World Championships and there was obvious discontent. Ronnie Heffron, a brilliant welterweight kid tipped to star in 2012 became disenchanted with the set-up and signed for Frank Warren. BABA are now embroiled in a battle for £16,000 in compensation for money claimed to have been invested in him.   

Turbulent times indeed for amateur boxing, although that now is something of a misnomer as while all this was happening the new World Series of Boxing was formed allowing, from next year, all 'amateurs' to be paid like pros. 

Thankfully, however there are now signs that the sport is coming off the ropes and fighting back. There have been some heartening results in international tournaments, notably against the USA who were whitewashed in three engagements in America and then a double-header in London when GB won the inaugural Atlantic Cup with 7-1 and 7-3 wins respectively against a once-great amateur boxing nation now in serious decline.

History was also made for the first time when women boxers appeared in the same tournament as men although dear old Sir Henry Cooper, a VIP guest at one of the events, pointedly made his excuses and left when the girls were doing rather more than powdering their noses. Like Amir Khan he has no liking for the women’s game.

That's tough because in terms of women’s boxing, Britain is now well ahead of the field in organisation and preparation for 2012, with some outstanding medal prospects too. 
 

All this is a firm basis on which Mapp and McCracken can build for the future, especially as there is some genuine talent to be nurtured once the world light-welter bronze medallist, Bradley Saunders and bantamweight Luke Campbell, Britain's first Euro champ for nearly half-a-century recover from hand injuries, plus flyweight Khalid Yafai, a former world junior champion who boxed in Beijing and has remained stoically loyal to the amateur ranks. 

I also like the look of Martin Ward (pictured), and 18-year-old product of  the Repton club, who won the European Youth tournament in  Finland this year without conceding a point. He's my tip to do at least an Amir Khan in London given the opportunity.
 

I know 40-year-old McCracken from the pro game, both as a gutsy fighter and subsequent mentor to Carl Froch the WBC super-middleweight champion.  He is a top man. Moving McCracken up from the consultancy role he shared with another ex-pro champion, Richie Woodall - who I understand also fancied the job McCracken now has - may prove to be Mapp's smartest move for there was growing pressure from both within the Sheffield based camp and outside for the return of Edwards. 

There are many – including a number of current GB boxers – who still believe getting shot of Edwards was a huge mistake. Other heads, not his, should have rolled because of the disgraceful behaviour of the ABA towards him and the team in Beijing, as we scribes writers who were there will testify. But as there is no chance of Edwards returning, as Roy Keane might say:  "Get over it." Time to move on.
 

My concern now is how McCracken is going to handle his dual role, plus looking after Froch and the handful of other fighters he trains, especially when the WSB league begins, for next year will also see the next phase of the 'Super-Six' tournament in which Froch will need to be prepared for up-coming world title bouts against Mikkel Kessler and Andre Ward. That, of course is Mapp's problem. The BABA chair apparently has abandoned plans to appoint a chief executive and will himself shoulder some of the administrative load. 
 

Now I happen to like Mapp and wish him well in his endeavours to bring some glory to Team GB in 2012. I misjudged him when he was brought in as chairman of Sport England believing he was another Labour-luvvie, there to do the Government’s bidding. I was wrong – it was clear he set out to do a decent job, championing the grass-roots of sport, and when the Government started to interfere he had the bottle to stand up to the then Culture Secretary, a smarmy know-it-all named James Purnell, and quite rightly told him what to do with his chairmanship. 

It was during his spell with Sport England that Mapp, a self-made multi-millionaire businessman, discovered boxing, a sport he admitted that hitherto he knew nothing about. He set out to learn and I was instrumental in introducing him to Paul King, the chief executive of the ABA. Now he is running the show.  Remarkable?  Yes. 

But I have always found Mapp to be up front, straight-talking and not an awkward questions ducker; unlike some sports administrators, he will always call you back when there is a contentious issue to be raised. My one disappointment was that he was misguided - and I use the phrase advisedly – to ko Edwards. 

I have covered amateur boxing since I was a 17 year old cub reporter on a weekly newspaper in South London and never has the sport as better facilities, financial investment, and potential for development than it has now. But there are still things that need to be sorted and  UK Sport, the funding body, are keeping a watchful eye. 
 

There is some unseemly in-fighting in BABA's main constituent body, the ABA of England, whose President is Mapp's old mate Richard Caborn, the former Sports Minister.
 

The ABA chairman Keith Walters, a good bloke, is known to be unhappy in what he considers a lack of consultation regarding recent moves in relation to BABA. Caborn faces some stormy waters both with the dissent within the organisation and the Schools Amateur Boxing Association, who have petitioned political heavies such as the current Sports Minister, Gerry Sutcliffe and Lord Tom Pendry, a former Services boxing champion, to examine the running of the ABA. When I saw Pendry at the recent House of Commons reception organised by BABA he warned: "There's going to be trouble ahead."

Whatever that is, let's hope it does not affect the people who matter most in this sport, those who take the blows. The boxers may now be getting the rewards, but they also deserve respect. Knowing Mapp and McCracken, I have no doubt both will ensure they get it.

Alan Hubbard is an award-winning sports columnist for The Independent on Sunday, and a former sports editor of The Observer. He has covered 11 summer Olympics and scores of world title fights from Atlanta to Zaire, and is a former chairman of the Boxing Writers' Club. 

The air of irrepressible civic optimism belongs to another era.

"Everyone in our area supports the Olympic bid."

(No need yet, evidently, for demographically-balanced opinion polls to support the assertion.)

"We are a fiscally stable, Olympic-minded community."

I have been watching old promotional videos for Detroit’s unsuccessful bid to stage the 1968 Summer Olympics, awarded ultimately to Mexico City.

And a sobering experience it has been too.

How to relate the confidence, power and, yes, smugness exuding from these near half-century-old artefacts, with their references to "the city of champions" and "the American city whose products have revolutionised our way of living" to the much-diminished Detroit of today?

The Detroit of the 1960s, viewers were told, pooled "one of the world’s greatest reservoirs of organisational talent, the kind of men the country has…called on before to move mountains and who ask only, 'Where would you like them moved and by when?'"

Its industry was like "a stout heart within the city…the vital pulse-beat of technology and resources which has put the world on wheels".

While, for good measure, "the world’s largest freshwater beach" was "but minutes away from the heart of the city".

One of the films even parodied the Olympic flag with a Detroit flag composed of five "intermeshing gear-wheels".

I have been watching these relics for two reasons, well actually three, the first being that I am a certified Olympic anorak.

More importantly, I recently discovered that Detroit has tried harder than just about anywhere else on earth – even Istanbul - to bring the Games to the city, without ever once succeeding.

Most importantly of all, I would like to argue that there has never been a better time than the present to consider taking the Olympics there.

To take the second point first, Detroit tried seven times to land the Games between 1939 and 1966.

First time out, it gathered only two votes in its quest for the (aborted) 1944 Olympics, beating Lausanne (one), but losing out to Rome (11) and London (20).

In 1947, it mustered just two votes again, going out in the first round of a contest for the 1952 Games that was won comfortably by Helsinki.

Two years later, Detroit fared better, finishing fourth in a crowded nine-city field for the 1956 Olympics, with Melbourne ultimately prevailing over second-placed Buenos Aires by just one vote – 21 to 20. (Yes, the Games almost went to South America 60 years before Rio 2016).

In 1955, Detroit was up to third out of seven, behind Lausanne and Rome, the eventual 1960 host; while four years later, it was runner-up, albeit far behind Tokyo, the convincing winner.

That 1968 campaign brought its best showing of all, even though the 14 votes it garnered were still not enough to prevent Mexico from winning in the first round.

By 1966 in Rome, it was back to fourth and last in a race for the 1972 Games won by Munich on the second ballot.

Not long afterwards came the 1967 riot and Motor City’s Olympic dream was destroyed – for good, or so it appeared.

Now though, in a curious manner, the Olympic planets seem to be aligning in such a way as to make a Detroit candidacy a potentially attractive proposition.

For one thing, the United States Olympic Committee would probably benefit from eating some humble pie after the mistakes that undermined Chicago’s 2016 bid, confounding even the Obamas' eleventh-hour efforts to make up lost ground.

A good way of showing humility would be to ask the International Olympic Committee, in effect, to help fix an American city broken by the near-collapse of an industry on which it has depended virtually throughout the modern Olympic era.

For another thing, "legacy" has emerged in recent years as the Olympic buzz-word par excellence.

It has become, in the process, a much-abused term, but what a terrific legacy it would be if the Games could provide a platform for a city that has become a byword for rust-belt decay to diversify into new areas – 'clean' energy perhaps, or environmental clean-up technology.

After all, the city is scarcely bereft of assets: the car industry, even in its present state, remains a formidable nexus of engineering expertise, while nearby Ann Arbor harbours a world-class university.

Size might be an issue – but while the population of inner Detroit has fallen from two million in the 1950s to more like 900,000 today, greater Detroit still houses 3-4 million.

It might also be possible to involve the neighbouring Canadian city of Windsor in any Detroit Olympic bid.

The bi-national character of such a candidacy would help generate publicity and, I think, add a dash of panache and modernity.

I can imagine other bi-national bids emerging in years to come, perhaps from the Middle East, or even Europe, where Copenhagen-Malmö is an obvious candidate.

For all its deficiencies, Detroit retains in a wonderful phrase I came across in a Financial Times article "the bone structure of a great city".

Wouldn't it be something if the Olympic Movement could help it put new flesh on these bones

And think of the musical accompaniment!

The Detroit 1968 promotional films may be viewed by clicking here.

And here.

David Owen is a specialist sports journalist who 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 last year's Beijing Olympics. An archive of Owen’s material may be found by Twitter users at www.twitter.com/dodo938.

It's pouring down with rain. More accurately, given the strength of the gusting wind, it's pouring across with rain, a rain that stings the face, borne by a wind that buffets the body.

The 55th Fuller’s Head of the River Fours race, scheduled to start on the reverse Boat Race course from Mortlake to Putney, has just been abandoned, leaving 2,000 or so would-be rowers to de-rig and load up boats which will not now be lowered into the surly waters of the Thames.
 

It is as I battle my way back across Putney Bridge that they pass me - all wearing international tracksuits. They're not jogging. They're running.  Running through the rain now that their plans to row through it have been frustrated.
 

And I think to myself, as I struggle on: "There is something very depressing about elite athletes." Of course, I hate myself for thinking it. But there we are. The thought is thunk.
 

Guilt and jealousy, no doubt, colour my attitude. Each eager runner who passes me is a rebuke, an invitation not taken to up my own game.
 

Over the years I have talked to many driven souls who have propelled themselves through ferocious belief and self discipline to the very highest levels of sporting achievement. They have their mantras, and very sensible they are too.
 

"Listen to your body." That’s a big favourite, particularly with endurance runners such as Paula Radcliffe - although for someone who has been listening to their body for years she seems to have spent a lot of time disagreeing with it.
 

Listen to your body. Yes indeed. But what if your body is telling you: "I quite fancy another round of muffins with lemon curd"?  Or: "Do you know what? It's not worth the bother"?

One of my favourite sporting quotes is from Dave Bedford, the former world 10,000 metres record holder who is now international race director for the Virgin London Marathon. Asked once what he found most challenging in his athletics career, he replied: "Getting out of the front door."

(In the same spirit, Houdini once said – if Gilbert O'Sullivan’s lyrics are accurate, and I have no reason to believe they are not – that to get out of bed was the hardest thing he could do.)

Bedford, of course, managed to get over the threshold with sufficient regularity to clock up 120 miles a week in training - which many people at the time thought insanely excessive.
 

But somehow that acknowledgment of lurking sloth makes his achievements palatable.
 

"Control the controllables. You can't control what your rivals do, only what you do." Again, sounds sensible on the face of it. But if, say, you have the swimming style of Eric the Eel at his panicky worst, getting in full control of it is not going to do you a whole lot of good. 
 

I remember once controlling my controllable all the way round Woodfield Stadium near Watford as I ran my first - and last - competitive 3,000 metres race against my mate Kidder, who trained regularly and was faster than me, and two characters who turned up in running shoes, rather than the training shoes Kidder and I sported.
 

On the face of it I seemed bound to finish last, witnessed by large numbers of fellow schoolboys and girls awaiting their own events. And that was what happened - although I did also manage to control the strong urge not to bother finishing as I saw my friend cross the line in third place more than half a lap ahead of me.
 

Perhaps I should have employed a bit of visualisation? Perhaps I should have laid down a mental template of victory. But what happens when you snap out of it and recognise that what you have just envisioned bears as much similarity to reality as a "yet more apocalyptic, giant blade-thrusting action!" computer game?
 

As they say on the Underground: "Mind the gap."

In his newly published book Inspired (Headline, £18.99), which discusses some of the characteristics which elite sporting figures have in common, Steve Redgrave calls the mindset of Olympic swimmer John Naber (pictured) "as inspirational as anything I have come across in sport."

Essentially, Naber, who had missed out on medals at the 1972 Munich Olympics, set his sights on winning gold in the 100m backstroke at the next Games and calculated that, based on the progression of times, he would need to swim the distance in 55.5seconds – four full seconds faster than his best.
 

"Then he broke it down again," writes Redgrave. "He trained for ten months a year, so he would only need to improve by one tenth of a second over the space of a month. There are roughly thirty days in a month, so he would only need to improve by one three-hundredths of a second every day. He trained for four hours every day, so he only needed to improve by one twelve-hundredth of a second every hour."

Naber eventually won his gold – in 55.49sec.
 

The moral of the story for Redgrave? Even an apparently insurmountable goal can be achieved by a motivated athlete.
 

The moral of the story for me?  I never could, and never would have been, remotely, a motivated athlete. A couple of days of improvement, fine. But day on day? Over four years?
 

As I say, elite sportsmen, they just make you feel bad.

Mike Rowbottom, one of Britain's most talented sportswriters, has covered the last five Summer and four Winter Olympics for The Independent. Previously he has worked for the Daily Mail, The Times, The Observer, the Sunday Correspondent and The Guardian. He is now chief feature writer for insidethegames.

The sheer incongruity of a sporting body relaxing its policy on certain drugs is bound to attract headlines, but there  was always a strange inevitability about the way the International Equestrian Federation (FEI) torpedoed  its  own clean sport campaign.

The FEI has just spent Euros 1.8 million (£1.6 million) and a year on formulating  measures to kick doping into touch after excruciating positive cases at the Olympic Games and crass revelations by German riders that damaged  the sport’s already dwindling stock with the International Olympic Committee (IOC). The FEI’s Royal Rresident has made herself available for media briefings to an unprecedented  degree. 

No-one would dispute that the adoption of hard-hitting changes to medication control at this week’s General Assembly in Copenhagen deserved congratulatory coverage befitting "the most important decision the FEI will ever make."

So how come, I and countless others are still trying to fathom why the FEI bounced into the agenda a last-minute "option" to sanction the controlled use of phenylbutazone – a particularly contentious  anti-inflammatory? The notion was delivered with the same matter-of-factness you might ask if someone wanted sugar in their tea.
 

Two other pain-killers have also been approved but  only people born since 1989 can be excused for not knowing World War Three would break out over bute. Still a staple in many at-home medicine chests, a small amount can magically make a lame horse look sound - the working life non-competitive veterans is often prolonged by the "powders".

But it has no place in sport, which is why it was banned outright 20 years ago. Apart from cheating, the safety and welfare issues associated with jumping fences at speed on a horse that is essentially crocked are too awful to contemplate.
 

Significant global players - Germany, Ireland, Britain, Australia, New Zealand, Sweden and the United States - made impassioned pleas for zero tolerance. But it's one nation, one vote. Although it may be too sweeping a generalisation, the newer federations that are still learning about competition horse management were never going to reject bute. With the equally high-risk application of a secret ballot - some other matters were decided by a show of hands - it was almost a done deal.

Equally baffling is why the FEI had no prepared justification or recommendation for bute. The top table had to confer when entirely predictable questions came from the floor. Perhaps most telling was an executive suggestion that  the request for anti-inflammatories came "from the industry" - FEI-speak for riders, owners, trainers and vets.
 

This is not the first time in recent months that the FEI has been led off-piste by parties with vested interests. In August, it was discovered there was no mechanism to decide whether or Britain or Belgium should be relegated from the Nations Cup superleague after tieing at the bottom  in Dublin. On the day it was announced Britain would remain. By 10pm, both were relegated. Two weeks later the FEI Bureau ruled they were back in. But then Princess Haya (pictured) invited the views of the International Jumping Riders Club - at a meeting not attended by the British - and suddenly Belgium and Britain were relegated again.

You need very strong mental reserves to work for the FEI. They have all the commercial and political pressures associated with any major sport, never mind one burdened with popular perceptions of elitism and animal abuse. No other sport has to police an overwhelming set of welfare obligations to an athlete who cannot speak for himself.

Neither can welfare be ring-fenced. At the one end, medication control has always struggled to stay a hoofprint ahead of the pharmacists whose impossible-to-detect new potions can help a horse with aches and pains through the vet check on the eve of a major contest, adding maybe hundreds of thousands to his value.  At the other end is the challenge of educating third nations whose equines have metamorphorsised from beasts of burden to sporting commodities in barely two generations.
 

Until the 1980s the FEI was stuck in a backwater in Berne, though it has reinvented itself since relocating in Lausanne and in bringing in commercial and management expertise from a range of other sports and even the arts. Its designer-suited marketeers are probably impressing fledging sponsors. The FEI’s use of new media is both imaginative and exceptional.
 

In similar vein, one can only admire Princess Haya's stoicism and dignity when her own husband - Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum, the ruler of Duabi - was "done" for doping just weeks after she stepped-up her clean sport campaign, and her determination to leave no stone unturned by inviting big-hitters  from outside the sport to lead her anti-doping commissions.
 

But  you can go too far:  however many smart agencies and focus groups you "engage" in the "consultation" process it never hurts to take all necessary time to run radical notions past your own people - those with heritage in and understanding of  the numerous idiosyncracies of this sport. Anti-inflammatories were not the only matter perceived to be railroaded through the Assembly by delegates. Many must have wondered why they had troubled to make the trip and, having left early, they unwittingly provided a practical excuse not to stage a re-vote for which by then a case was emerging.  There is, after all, ample precedent for the FEI to re-visit hasty decisions.  
 

Even if the current regime cannot remember the tumultuous debates about bute in the 1970s and 80s, the mood in the room should have sent up a flare that a public relations catastrophe was already underway.  The communications team's cheerful review of the year, presented several hours after the  sensational vote was already big news around the horse world, had all the resonance of Nero fiddling while Rome burned. It required the FEI’s veteran vice-president, Sven Holmberg, not a PR professional, to point out the reality. "If you thought media reaction to rollkur [a controversial training technique] was tough, just wait till you see what happens with this," he said.

Earlier, Swedish delegate Bo Helander, himself a former FEI chief executive, had asked: “I have been in the FEI for 30 years and have never heard of this mysterious body, 'The industry'.  What is it and what place does it have in the FEI?"

Let's hope his irony was not lost.  Before the FEI dreams up any other grand plans it needs to take a very good look at exactly who is wielding both the carrot and the stick.

Pippa Cuckson is the equestrian correspondent of The Daily Telegraph and one of the most respected commentators on equestrian sport. She was the deputy editor of Horse & Hound for many years and now regularly contributes to Chronicle of the Horse, Horse International and Country Life.

C.K Wu went to Westminster this week for a reception on the House of Commons terrace.

As the Thames rolled imperturbably by, the President of AIBA, the International Boxing Association, betrayed impressive sang-froid in describing his reaction to death threats received since taking the helm three years ago.

"I said, 'I'm over 60; it's not too bad'," he told an audience including Frank Bruno, Barry McGuigan and current British boxers of both sexes.

The occasion afforded an opportunity to catch up on progress of the nascent World Series of Boxing (WSB), which knowledgeable observers expect to change the face of amateur boxing for good.

The idea is to create a competition that will drive enough money into the so-called "Amateur" sport to prevent top-drawer Olympic boxers joining the "Professional" ranks the minute they step off the medal podium.

What AIBA and IMG have come up with is primarily a team competition that will straddle three continents and could enable top boxers – who, crucially, will retain their Olympic eligibility - to generate earnings running comfortably into six figures of US dollars.

At least 12 cities around the world will host teams consisting of both local and international boxers.

After a three-month season – with the inaugural competition scheduled currently to start in November 2010 – a champion team would emerge, following a series of city versus city matches featuring bouts in five weight categories fought over five three-minute rounds.

The best boxers at each weight would subsequently face off for individual WSB titles.

The hope, obviously, is that this format will attract substantial sponsorship and broadcast income, as well as sizeable live audiences.

After making inquiries, I think I can reveal where the first dozen or so franchises are likely to be, with teams grouped into three continent-wide Conferences.

In Asia, the line-up is likely to pit a Chinese team (Beijing) against South Korea (probably Busan), India (New Delhi) and Kazakhstan.

In the Americas, New York, Chicago and Los Angeles are all in the picture, with the fourth franchise possibly based across the Canadian border in Montreal.

In Europe, Milan, London and Moscow may be joined by a franchise from Turkey, although I understand that Germany (with its potentially lucrative television market) and even France may still be in the picture, with a possibility that the European Conference might end up including more than four teams.

As for venues, Ivan Khodabakhsh, WSB's Chief Operating Officer, steered me towards the O2 Arena as a possible setting for the London team’s home matches.

When I asked whether the New York team might fight at Madison Square Garden, he replied that they had had a "presentation" and talked to different people there.

Commercial interest in the venture plainly exists: a top Ladbrokes executive in the Westminster audience confided that the company was "seriously interested" in the competition.

According to Khodabakhsh, the current plan is to have a single presenting title sponsor, with other sponsorship rights going to franchise-holders.

I have heard plausible suggestions that this title sponsorship might raise in the region of $3 million-$5 million (£1.8 million-£3 million).

Franchise-holders – who, in Europe, will pay an annual franchise fee of €300,000 (£271,000) - would also get a share of TV revenues pertaining to their particular territory.

With boxers from all over the world expected to take part in the competition, the value of TV rights should clearly not be restricted to those countries with franchises.

A particularly alluring prospect for boxing fans is that one or more Cuban stars might join their local franchise.

Khodabakhsh told me WSB was more than confident Cuban boxers would participate in the competition.

The way in which boxers – who will be guaranteed a base salary (excluding prize money) of $25,000 (£15,000) even if ranked in WSB's lowest category – are allocated to teams promises to be extremely interesting.

According to Khodabakhsh, a draft system will operate, but there is also set to be what sounds like an Indian Premier League-style auction for the 20 or 30 biggest names.

Transfers from one team to another will also be allowed.

With around 12 months to go before the first scheduled WSB bouts, one burning question, of course, is how the glitzy, many would say garish, world of professional boxing will react.

It is a world, after all, that has made a habit of turning Olympic medallists – from Muhammad Ali to Lennox Lewis – into global superstars over many decades.

As we filed out of the reception, I raised this matter with the globe-trotting Wu, whose next stop after London was set to be Georgia.

"We don’t want to challenge them," he told me in his clipped, economical English. "We do ours; you do yours."

Separate worlds, then - I wonder if it really will turn out to be that simple.

David Owen is a specialist sports journalist who 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 last year's Beijing Olympics. An archive of Owen’s material may be found by Twitter users at www.twitter.com/dodo938.