Sport

The Chinese have excelled at London 2012, much to the annoyance of their Western rivals. In this week’s issue of the Spectator, Ross Clark argues that the claims against swimmer Ye Shiwen reflect irrational suspicion of her country. Here is an edited version of Ross’s article (you can read the full version here): The story of London 2012 has been that of a country which was once an underachiever in the Olympics but which, through sheer hard work on the part of its athletes, has hauled itself to the top of the medals tables, producing in the process one of the most dramatic world records in Olympic history. I refer, of course, to the People’s Republic of China. But this is not a story you will have picked up from the BBC or the press.

The genius of Mo Farah was only underscored by the plodding stupidity of Downing Street's statements about the "All Must Have Prizes" culture this weekend. If this is the culture which produced Mo Farah then surely we should be celebrating it. But the truth is that it doesn't exist and never has done. How does David Cameron think we managed to get 28 gold medals if not through the promotion of competitive sport in schools? Mo Farah attended an inner city comprehensive his talent was spotted and encouraged. What's wrong with that? Considering the scale of the success of London 2012, it's no surprise that there have been attempts from both ends of the political spectrum to claim this Olympics for their side. It is a rather pointless game to play.

David Cameron made a spirited defence of school sport this morning when he appeared on LBC radio. Waving a sheet of paper triumphantly, the Prime Minister argued that the 20 school playing field sales that Michael Gove had signed off were actually schools that had closed, surplus fields and 'surplus marginal school land'. He also defended the decision to remove a compulsory target for all children to take part in two hours of sport a week: Well, look, we haven't done that, you know, sport is part of the national curriculum and we want schools to deliver sport and I think that's very important, but frankly, and we're putting a lot of money in, there's a billion pounds going into school sport over the next four years. But frankly if the only problem was money, you'd solve this with money.

Back from holiday and it seems just about the only "controversy" at these splendid* Olympic Games lies in Danny Boyle's exhuberant opening ceremony. According to its critics it was multi-cultural crap or pap or something. And, of course, in one sense it was a hymn to multi-cultural Britain. Why else would Boyle have begun with choirs in Northern Ireland, Scotland, Wales and England (spliced with rugby footage) if not to remind the audience (in London and further afield) that the United Kingdom is not quite the same thing as England. Of course, that's not what the critics of multi-culturalism really mean when they sneer at "multi-culti" tripe and political correctness "gone mad". One of the problems with discussing these matters is the difficulty of defining and agreeing on terms.

The discussion of Britain’s latest tennis nearly man has turned inevitably to the culture of a sport which, in this country at least, remains laughably exclusive. Asked on the Today programme why we fail to produce consistent numbers of good tennis players the tennis evangelist and comedian Tony Hawks (who knows a thing or two about what is laughable) made a good suggestion about opening up our ridiculously expensive (and often empty) courts to the public. But the debate about tennis reveals a deeper malaise. In this country we are prepared to accept mediocrity because the last thing we would dare tamper with is the class system. There is a difference between elitism and exclusivity.

A pearl richer than all his tribe who, alas, loved batting not wisely but all too well. If tragedy seems too strong a term for Mark Ramprakash's career there remains ample room for sadness when one considers the fate of the best batsman England has produced since Gooch and Gower announced themselves more than 30 years ago. The answer to the eternal question 'What might have been?’ is rarely less than melancholy but never sadder or more frustrating than when pondering Ramprakash's fate. The outline of his story is familiar to all who've followed English cricket these past 20 years: the most gifted batsman of his generation couldn't find a way of parading those gifts at the highest level.

If England had won that penalty shoot out against Italy it would have been a travesty. The press has been very kind to the national team this morning, partly because — as we kept being told — ‘expectations were low’ and partly because everyone still likes (with some justification) Roy Hodgson. But from the middle of the first half onwards, England performed as poorly as I have ever seen them, and it wasn’t simply down to the might of the opposition. Indeed, the Italian defence is ponderous and porous, as we shall see when they play a team which dares, from time to time, to attack. England’s problems were partly a consequence of team selection, and partly tactics. Rooney should not have been on the pitch; he was there as a consequence of blind hope.