The growing likeability of Chelsea

End of the old guard: Drogba's departure has restored Torres' confidence... and made Chelsea likable again    Pic: Reuters

As the summer transfer draws to a close with the outcome of Chelsea’s pursuit of young German striker Andre Schurrle still unknown, one thing is sure. The overhaul of the Chelsea squad is not only underway, but may almost be complete. And, perhaps even more surprisingly, the turnover of players has not only got Chelsea looking like a more formidable challenger than they have for many years, but, against all odds, verging on likable for the first time since the Roman Abramovich takeover in 2003.

Despite their triumph in both last years Champions League and the FA Cup, the west London club could only manage a sixth-place finish in the English Premier League. When the promising Andre Villas-Boas was sacked as Chelsea manager in March last year following a 1-0 league defeat against West Bromwich Albion, a large part of the criticism leveled against the Portuguese was that he had failed to impose his preferred style of play on Chelsea’s influential old guard and had quickly lost the confidence of his players. But this overlooked the fact that in a perfect world Villas-Boas would have brought in players better suited to his system rather than having to rely on those who were already there. Indeed, many people felt that Villas-Boas had been handed a poisoned-chalice by Abramovich, who demanded the manager rebuild without compromising results. In the end, Villas-Boas was given neither the time nor the support to see his project through and was shown the door. But today the signs are there that Villas-Boas may have been more successful than he was given credit for, only for Roberto di Matteo (and whoever replaces him in a year's time – probably Pep Guardiola) to reap the benefits.

In truth, until recently the shadow of another Portuguese manager, Jose Mourinho (for whom Villas-Boas worked as Opposition Scout) remained cast across everything that went on at Stamford Bridge. Mourinho was Abramovich’s first managerial appointment as Chelsea owner and the self-proclaimed ‘Special One’ led the club to unprecedented success between 2004 and 2007, albeit without being able to deliver the Champions League trophy so coveted by the new Russian-owner.

When Mourinho left the club by “mutual consent” in September 2007 following a well-documented power struggle between himself and Abramovich, it started a procession of managers (currently six in five years) who have promised much, but until last year, largely failed to deliver (with the exception of a League and Cup double under Carlo Ancelotti in 2009/10).

Throughout the years that followed Mourinho’s departure, the core of his Chelsea team remained more or less in tact. Under Mourinho, the team's effectiveness and the manager's own charisma and ability to draw the attention of the media to himself instead of his team, disguised, to a certain extent, how the team he had assembled was almost completely devoid of any charm of its own.

None of this is to detract from the quality of the players in question. Rather more, it is to highlight the genuine difficulty anyone other than Chelsea fans had in feeling any warmth towards the likes of Peter Cech, John Terry, Frank Lampard and Didier Drogba. This problem was exacerbated by their close association in the eyes of many with an owner, the origin of whose fortune was unknown and who seemed intent on buying the Premier League, literally at any cost. It was the sense of inevitability, almost of entitlement, particularly after they won their first league title in Mourinho’s first season, that made Chelsea the target of most neutrals’ intense dislike (with me first among them).

But this aura wasn’t helped by the uninspiring nature and/or dubious character of some of Chelsea's key players: Petr Cech, John Terry, Frank Lampard and Didier Drogba, all relatively devoid of any sense of glamour, were all vital parts of the side that won the league title in 2004/05 and were later joined by similarly obnoxious Ashley Cole, Michael Ballack, Nicolas Anelka and Branislav Ivanovic. All the while, players demonstrating flair or the potential to become fan favourites were stockpiled by the wealthy club, but either failed to properly assimilate or were left to rot on the bench before being shipped out again (Joe Cole, Arjen Robben, Hernan Crespo and Scott Parker all spring to mind as the most obvious examples).

Undoubtedly one of the worst culprits of this is John Terry who, while undoubtedly a fine defender initially much appreciated by England fans for his heart-on-sleeve approach, could only disguise his loathsome personality for so long. I’m not from the school of thought that believes that it doesn’t matter what a footballer does off the pitch as long as he performs on it and Terry's conduct both on and off the pitch contribute to the detestable figure he has become. Terry has rightly attracted a lot of negative publicity for cheating on his wife (and mother of his twins) with the former partner of then-teammate Wayne Bridge, model Vanessa Perroncel, and his alleged racial abuse of QPR defender Anton Ferdinand, the brother of England teammate Rio. Most recently his attempts to crash the party at the end of last years Champions League final, a game in which he was not involved through his own stupidity/thuggery in the semi-final, were laughable but also entirely predictable. Sadly, such incidents are just the latest of a string of incidents (beginning with his abuse of American tourists at a Heathrow airport bar in the immediate aftermath of the September 11 attacks – an incident in which Frank Lampard was also implicated) that have plagued Terry’s career and mean that “Big JT” is worthy of complete derision and all the bile that comes his way. Even Chelsea fans now have trouble defending the antics of their “heroic” captain.

Unlike Terry, Lampard’s involvement in the September 11 debacle can probably be put down to immaturity, but his subsequent performances have hardly helped endear him to the footballing public. Whilst I’m willing to admit that my perspective of Lampard may have been unfairly tainted by the acrimonious circumstances under which he left West Ham (the club I support) and the way he refused to defer to the superior Steven Gerrard in an England midfield that could only accommodate one of them, it says something that, despite being the highest scoring midfielder in Premier League history, he is thought of less fondly than midfield contemporaries such as Gerrard, Paul Scholes, Patrick Viera, Roy Keane and even Ryan Giggs (who has not been without off-field indescretions of his own in recent times). Goals may be one thing, but they alone can’t buy you the affection of Premier League audiences, and his finger-pointing-to-the-sky celebration is touching, but hardly inspires passion.

The greedy, chavvy, cheating Ashley Cole, the self-important Ballack, the headgear wearing Cech (who in fairness only does so following a “challenge” by one of the few footballers to rival Terry for shear unpleasantness, Stephen Hunt), the moody Anelka, and the so-thuggish-that-the-only-surprise-is-that-he-hasn’t-joined-Mourinho-at-Madrid-yet Ivanovic were all also complicit in contributing to making Chelsea the most difficult team to feel anything but negativity towards.

However, perhaps it is Didier Drogba that was the greatest contributor to the dour view many people took of the Chelsea of the last five years. Bought from Marseille in July 2004 for £24 million right at the start of the Mourinho era (unlike Lampard and Terry who were already at Stamford Bridge by the time Mourinho arrived), Drogba is perhaps the personification of Mourinho’s Chelsea. At his best Drogba was unstoppable meaning he regularly scored hatfuls of goals for the Blues, but much like Mourinho's Chelsea never played in a way that encouraged the adoration of the neutral. There’s no escaping that many of the goals he scored were incredibly impressive and, as demonstrated in the 2012 Champions League final, Drogba always seemed capable of producing at crucial times and in the most important matches. But there is also no getting away from the idea that Drogba was more reliant on power and force than skill, that he bullied defenders, and that his desire to win and make himself look good mattered more to him than anything else. And while none of those things are bad qualities to have for a Premier League striker, one can’t help but feel that the Stamford Bridge crowd (not to mention the rest of the football watching world) would have liked to see a bit more of the artistry exhibited by the likes of Thierry Henry and Dennis Bergkamp at cross-town rivals Arsenal from time to time, even if they could never admit it.

Furthermore, there is evidence to suggest that the same things that made Drogba a winner also acted as a detriment to teammates, that his mentality and personality may have been so dominant that other players failed to flourish in his presence, that the potential of a Chelsea team was sometimes sacrificed on an alter of Drogba’s perhaps subconscious insistence that he personally was the star.

The following quotes from double-winning former Chelsea manager Carlo Ancelotti are, in my opinion, some of the most interesting insights offered into the inner workings of a team by any sports figure in recent times and are particularly enlightening with regard to the impact Drogba had on Chelsea:

"What I would say is training Chelsea, when the club is in the middle of a major generational change, is complicated.

"Take Torres and the crisis he has lived through there. I now know if you decide to invest strongly in him, you have to sell Drogba.

"Didier is like Filippo Inzaghi was at AC Milan. He simply devours any competition.

"It's not that he's evil - nor was Inzaghi - it's just the way they are."

Drogba may not be evil, but “the way he is” is not necessarily terribly likable either. It comes as absolutely no surprise to me, or it would seem to Ancelotti, that Torres has begun to find form again this season and I fully expect him to score 20 plus goals this season and be in contention for the Golden Boot.

And that is where the revolution of likability at Chelsea begins. I’ve followed the career of Fernando Torres since he was a fluffy haired teenager debuting for Atletico Madrid and have always liked him. When he moved to Liverpool in July 2007 I thought it was the perfect move for all concerned. One of the brightest young talents in Europe moving to a high-profile team where he would immediately be not just a first-team player, but a star. Most importantly he hadn’t chased the money and gone to Chelsea. And for the first couple of seasons Torres really did look the complete striker, a rare case of a prospect who lived up to the hype. Needless to say I was devastated when one of my favourite players moved to one of my least favourite clubs for £50 millon in January 2011. The fee was astronomical (the sixth highest paid for any player ever) which only served to prove, in my mind at least, that Torres wasn’t the player I thought he was, and instead just another Chelsea mercenary. But then what was an initially embarrassing lack of goals turned into a complete humiliation for Torres. After a year and a half of taking the piss out the Spaniard, I actually began to feel sorry for him and started making excuses in his defence. The Ancelotti quote was all the encouragement I needed to change my perspective of him once again. Torres hadn’t turned into a terrible player overnight as a form of devine retribution for joining a club like Chelsea. Instead, it was that Drogba and the environment he created that wouldn’t allow Torres to perform and with Drogba gone, Torres could not only redeem himself, but could possibly also contribute to the redemption of Chelsea.

Then, this summer Chelsea won the race to sign another of Europe’s most exciting talents, Eden Hazard, beating out no less a club than Manchester City. Manchester City, of course, had just won the Premier League on the back on a massive influx of money from the Abu Dhabi United Group Investment and Development Limited, much as Chelsea had done seven years earlier. The only difference was that City had assembled an even more impressive (although somehow more likable) squad who played more attractive football. But City’s newfound wealth meant the Manchester club also surpassed Chelsea as the club players moved to if they were only interested in money. All of a sudden, Hazard’s £32 million move to Chelsea (as opposed to City) became more acceptable.

Seemingly overnight, Chelsea could field an exciting front three of Torres, Hazard and Juan Mata without an overbearing Ivorian or moody Frenchman in sight, and with youngsters Daniel Sturridge and new boy Victor Moses as back-up. 

In midfield, Frank Lampard will (unfortunately) probably continue to be something of a fixture (at least for another couple of years albeit in a deeper lying role), but will most likely be accompanied by the sneaky-good Ramires (who showed he was so much more than just a workhorse box-to-box midfielder with this strike against Barcelona in last year’s Champions League semi-final), the bad-boy with a heart of gold Raul Meireles, and the promising Oscar and Marko Marin. Only perma-crock Michael Essien and the money-grabbing John Obi Mikel (who never really reached his potential after forcing his way out of Manchester United after realizing there was more money on offer at Chelsea) remain as midfield relics of the Mourinho era.

In defence Ashley Cole (at least until he inevitably chases one last payday) looks likely to come under increasing pressure from young Champions League finalist Ryan Bertrand, who came through the Chelsea Academy (making it difficult to begrudge him his success at the club). Meanwhile, as captain, John Terry will continue to feature prominently but for how much longer is unclear, particularly if he continues to be dogged by scandals of his own making. In his place are the enormously entertaining “Playstation footballer” David Luiz, and the affable and competent England international, Gary Cahill, who toiled valiantly for a number of years with Bolton before making a deserved switch to a Champions League contender. The final piece in the puzzle was added last week when Chelsea signed Cesar Azpilicueta, a young Spanish defender who I've been following since he made the unconventional and brave move to Marseille at the age of 20, to contest the right-back spot with the brutish Ivanovic (if he survives his first training session against the Serbian).

I’m even almost ready to forgive Cech, who despite demonstrating increasing frailty last season, was an excellent and exciting keeper before he was tarred with the Mourinho-era brush (and suffered his head injury). I’m hopeful that Cech can reinvent himself as part of a bright, new, inspiring Chelsea team and provide the sort of leadership that will be needed by this young squad (particularly once Lampard and Terry shuffle off).

I’m not saying that this will be the team to line up against Atletico Madrid in this evening’s European Super Cup, or even necessarily feature all together in any game this season, but this season Chelsea could field a team of Cech – Azpilicueta, Cahill, Luiz, Bertrand – Ramires, Meireles, Oscar – Mata, Hazard and Torres and that’s just about one I can get behind, or at least watch without actively hoping bad things happen to them.

Speaking as a West Ham fan, I have to say it’s the kind of overhaul that other teams in the Premier League should be envious of and whilst the finishing touches have undoubtedly been put on it this summer, with Roberto di Matteo at the helm, the foundations were there under Andre Villas-Boas last season. With a bit more time and support there’s no telling how successful Villas-Boas might have been but Chelsea fans should perhaps now look back on his time at the helm a little more fondly. They are now reaping the benefits of Villas-Boas cleaning house. Now it’s over to Tottenham fans to see if he can repeat the feat – maybe this time with a bit more support.

Clash of the Codes 2012

Two-thirds of Clash of the Codes 2012 least likely

contenders                              

For anyone who hasn't yet read last week's post featuring me reminiscing about the television series Clash of the Codes, it might be an idea to keep scrolling down before reading this weeks post, which is essentially the second part of a two-part series.

I have already acknowledged that, for a number of reasons, we are unlikely to ever see the compelling spectacle that was Clash of the Codes return to our screens, but that hasn't stopped me dreaming the dream. Should my wish be granted though, what exactly would it look like 15 years after the second and last series drew to a close.

First things first: As much as my love of Black Box's 'Ride on Time' will endure forever, the theme tune needs updating. I don't want it to stray too far from the original, though, so I'm advocating for for DJ Fresh's 2011 hit 'Louder'. Backing this up - and to be used for in-show montages of competing athletes - will be Muse's 'Uprising', which, I admit, is not terribly original having been played at every one day cricket game (and just about every other sporting event I've attended) in the last five years. However, I defy anyone to watch a sporting contest on mute with 'Uprising' playing on repeat in the background and not have their viewing experience enhanced. My Olympic-watching experience was enhanced by approximately 67% by doing this. It even made dressage seem decidedly bad-ass.

After that, we're gonna need some hosts. Now, I should probably say at this point, that while my hopes for global Clash of the Codes TV domination remain undiminished, I accept that we're gonna have to start small. If we can't replicate the show's success in New Zealand then there's no hope that we can branch out to Australia, Asia, America, Europe and eventually the World. As much as I could one day see the Worldwide Edition of Clash of the Codes being presented by Ryan Seacrest and Jill Wagner, for the time being we're going to have to go local and, sadly, it's pretty slim pickings. The contenders are: Pulp Sports' Bill and Ben; CGW's Mark Richardson and Andrew Mulligan; Tony Veitch and Bernadine Oliver Kerby; and Brent Todd and Wendy Botha (anyone else remember Mountain Dew On the Edge?) but the winners, for me, rekindling their awkward sexual tension from another much-loved New Zealand sports show Sports Cafe, would be an enthusiastic Marc Ellis and Lana Coc-Kroft, at her sarcastic, acerbic, mildy resentful best.

Marc and Lana would oversee a show drawing on all the lessons of the last 15 years of reality TV. 2012 Clash of the Codes would incorporate elements of American Idol, Big Brother, The Biggest Loser, Survivor and The Amazing Race. Every week the show would contain both a minor and a major challenge with the winners of the minor challenge being granted immunity and the losers of the major challenge facing elimination. The major challenge would, as you would expect, be some kind of physical test of the athlete's fitness, strength, coordination (which as well as the expected Army assault courses and races up Rangitoto should also include the modern pentathlon, arm wrestling, tug of war, and my new favourite sport and my vote for the next sport to be admitted to the Olympics, Chessboxing). The minor challenge, though, would be something sports-related, but not necessarily physical, like a A Question of Sport-style trivia quiz, some kind of timed puzzle, a cooking challenge etc. with the basic aim of humiliating the athletes, promoting tantrums, putting pressure on team dynamics, and generally creating comedic gold. Whilst I'd stop short of insisting the teams lived together Big Brother-style for the duration of the show, a taped-confession room would ensure there would be plenty of hilarious insights into the mindsets of the athletes. Finally, there'd be no pussy-footing about with a league table. Each week the bottom two-ranked teams after the major challenge would being subject to elimination to be decided either by a panel of judges (headed by former Clash of the Codes guru Ian Ferguson) or by text-poll or some glorious combination of the two. How could this fail?

The decline of status of rugby as the all-defining sign of masculinity may take something of the edge off all other sports desire to triumph in Clash of the Codes 2012 (although I suspect the so-called minor sports - i.e. anything other than rugby, league, cricket and soccer would still have a lot to prove) the growth of the sporting personality as celebrity would mean the characters involved would be both more familiar and more interesting to the audience.

The philosophy behind the make-up of the teams would, in the spirit of reality TV, be whatever maximised drama, tension, entertainment, or humour.

I love the idea of Kieran Read (in a audition for the All Black captaincy) struggling to contend with the oversized ego of Piri Weepu, and Andrew Hore's idea of a good time (Sonny Bill is excluded on the grounds that he can't decide what sport he plays); and Benji Marshall trying to reign in Isaac Luke and the somewhat goofy Manu Vatuvei. I would enjoy the relative sophistication of Laura Langman, Irene Van Dyk and Maria Tutaia; and laugh at the complete bemusement of Andrew Nicholson, Mark Todd and Jock Paget. Mahe Drysdale could take his pick of any number of excellent medal-winning rowers to make up his team; while Bevan Docherty, Kris Gemmill and Terenzo Bozzone would be early favourites to take the title as triathletes.

The team I would undoubtedly most look forward to seeing, however, would be the cricketers. The choices for me are obvious: Daniel Vettori leading the always entertaining Jesse Ryder and the definition of oddball Chris Martin. Vettori herding Ryder and Martin through a series of challenges would be a sight to behold. The plucky Black Caps may even have a chance of winning the whole competition - in the bottom two almost every week, but who would vote them off? Not me.

Please, please, please someone tell me we can make this happen. It would be must-watch TV at its most compelling - in the meantime can we please try and raise the profile of Modern Pentathlon between Olympics (and work out a way to get Chessboxing televised).

Lamenting the loss of Clash of the Codes

Simon Barnett at his What Now? peak                                                                                                              Pic: onfilm.co.nz

Last week I wrote that of all the Olympic sports the modern pentathlon seemed to me to have the greatest reality TV potential. Whilst some of the feats on display at this Olympics have been remarkable (with David Rudisha's world record breaking 800m being amongst the most impressive), I can't help but feel that it's almost unfair that one person can win a medal for performing in just one discipline when the heptathletes, decathletes, triathletes and pentathletes all have to perform at high levels in multiple.

And when I say unfair, I'm not just talking about on the athletes; we also lose out as spectators. Olympic watchers between 1984 and 1996 not only had the privilege of watching Carl Lewis run incredible times on the track, but also got to see him utilize his unique technique to leap to four golds in the long jump. The world record in the long jump (8.95m) as not been broken since 1991 (when Lewis was still competing). And one of the main reasons for this is apparently the relatively lucrative nature of sprinting, which means that the likes of Usain Bolt are not willing to jeopardize their sprinting career by diversifying and potentially risking injury. This is unfortunate, because sports engineers have estimated that Bolt could leap as far as 10.50m in the long jump pit - a quite incredible prediction given how illusive the 9m barrier has proved.

As enthralled as I've been by Bolt at these Games, and as much as I recognize that specialization enables him to do what he does (even if, by his own admission, he is not the hardest trainer in the world), I would love to see him tackle a multi-disciplinary sport. The decathlon would be good but the modern pentathlon would be even better. Can we somehow arrange for ten of the most high profile gold medal winners to take part in a modern pentathlon competition on the last day of the Olympics? You're telling me you wouldn't tune in to watch Usain Bolt, Michael Phelps, Lebron James, Jessica Ennis, Chris Hoy, Ryan Nelsen and Gabrielle Douglas going head to head in fencing, swimming, equestrian, running and shooting? The potential for unintentional comedy is almost untold but the potential to reveal the world's best athlete is even greater.

The idea of some sort of competition to help compare the relative merits of sports people from different codes is nothing new. Down under, Hayden Knowles' Gatorade 100m Bolt famously pitted athletes from Australia's footballing codes against one another in 2010 to see who was the fastest (with rugby's Lachie Turner taking out the title) and New Zealand's charity Fight for Life has appealed to audiences keen to get to the bottom of debates about the respective toughness of league and union players. The pinnacle for me however, has to be the oft-forgotten and regrettably deceased Clash of the Codes.

Criminally, a search of the internet turns up a desperate lack of YouTube footage and little more than a Wikipedia stub for a television show that was amongst the most compelling viewing of my formative years. I still can't hear Italian house sensation Black Box's 1989 hit 'Ride on Time' without reminiscing about tuning in to Simon Barnett (bouncing back from the plane crash of a game show that was Face the Music where he struggled to replicate the classic What Now? years) to hear what challenges the athletes would endure in the next half hour in the battle for sporting supremacy.

In case you were living under a rock during the nineties, the basic premise of the show was teams of three athletes from various sporting codes would compete against each other in a series of physical challenges (most of which, as I recollect, seemed to revolve around Rangitoto in Auckland's Waitemata Harbour). The triathletes were perennial favourites and the netballers always seemed slightly disadvantaged against teams containing at least two males (although most teams did contain at least one female member) but it was Ian Ferguson and the canoeists who came out on top winning both series (in 1994 and 1997).

As a young football (soccer) player growing up in a rugby-mad country, any ammunition that could be gathered in the argument against any sport other than rugby being "wussy" was like gold dust. I may never have touched a kayak in my life but watching the rugby team get beat (and convincingly so) not once, but twice was priceless.

Looking back, the beauty of Clash of the Codes was that it was conceptualised at a time where the seeds of reality TVwere just being planted but, more importantly, professionalism in sport was yet to really catch on (with the exception of a few All Blacks who had crossed the ditch to make their fortune playing league, the bloody traitors). At the start of the first series the Super 12 was still two years away. It's telling that the second series, in 1997, one year after the launch of the Super Rugby era, failed to capture the imagination in the same way and led to the cancellation of the show. It was a simpler, more innocent era where athletes needed the media exposure (and anything they got paid to take part) far more than the media needed them. Professionalism changed all that, and whilst I accept that the quality of sport on offer for mere spectators has improved out of sight as a result (unless you happen to be an Auckland Rugby fan), I think it's important to acknowledge that, at the same time, something has been lost.

Perhaps the most disappointing thing about the whole situation is that at the same time as professionalism has made the recreation of a show like Clash of the Codes highly improbable, if not completely and forever out of reach, reality TV has come on in leaps and bounds. The lessons learned from Big Brother, American Idol, The X Factor, The Voice and any number of other horrific spin offs would only serve to make Clash of the Codes even more glorious. Instead, we'll just have to settle for specialist athletes doing incredible things in just one discipline (and tune in to the Olympic pentathlon every four years).

Unfortunately, I'm not able to let go of this idea just yet. The potential of such a show is just too great. Come back next week to read my column about how the 2012 edition of Clash of the Codes would look, especially if you happen to be a TV exec with an enormous budget and a programming hole to fill!

Are all gold medals equal?

An actual-size shot of how the medals might look if I was running the Games?                                      Pic: london2012.com

The day before the Olympic opening ceremony I had the following conversation with my highly-opinionated film critic friend Patrick:

Me: “If you were Bradley Wiggins would you rather win the Tour de France or win a gold medal?”

Patrick: “Well, he has both so…”

Me: “Yeah, but if you had to choose.”

Patrick: “Tour de France, no question. It’s the pinnacle of cycling.”

Me: “I think I’d rather have the gold medal but that’s probably because I don’t care that much about cycling.”

Patrick: “Yeah, you’re an idiot.”

Once my damaged self-esteem had recovered, it led me to thinking about the seemingly ever growing number of sports for which the Olympic Games is no longer the pinnacle. What’s more, I couldn’t help but feel that, if the Games aren’t the pinnacle of a certain sport, it somewhat devalues winning the gold medal in that sport.

How can we reflect this? My initial reaction was that “The Pinnacle” rule should be the primary criteria for making decisions about which sports featured at future Games. But I soon realised that a large part of the appeal of the Olympics is the sheer diversity of the sports (and athletes) competing in one place at one time. I may not think a men’s football gold medal is worth the same as the gold for the 100m sprint but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the idea of Michael Phelps, Tyson Gay and LeBron James all hanging out in the Athlete’s Village or swapping stories of their conquests (sporting and, ahem, extracurricular) as they walk around the Olympic Stadium at the closing ceremony (which totally happens by the way!). But I’m adamant that it should be reflected in some way.

After quite a lot of thought, I decided the only fair way to acknowledge the relative value of an event’s gold medal was by size and weight. If an event is devalued because it’s not the pinnacle of that sport, then the medal, as a representation of achievement should suffer the same fate.

The medals at London 2012 weigh approximately 400g but there really needs to be at least two smaller sizes than that.

Here’s the definitive list of events that would qualify for 100g gold medals if I was running the Olympics:

As a general rule any team sport should fall into this category. Call me a purist but there’s something about the Olympic motto ‘Faster, Higher, Stronger’ that just translates better in individual sports. This is even more the case when the sport in question has a showcase event of its own already.

The prime offender here is men’s football, which, in many ways, barely warrants a medal at all. Could we not just keep men’s Olympic football as a permanent exhibition sport? Whilst I’m sure many footballers consider winning a gold medal a great honour, it is far from the pinnacle of the sport. The greatest footballers are, and always will be, judged on their performances at World Cups and, to a lesser extent, in the Champions League. The bizarre compromise with FIFA that sees the majority of players competing aged under 23 only serves to give the whole tournament even more of a development feel. ‘Hey, come watch some Olympic football – you might see the stars of tomorrow.’ These guys haven’t trained for four or eight years solely for the chance to compete at these Games. For many of them it’s just another notch on the bedpost of a career that will find its ultimate fulfilment elsewhere. As much as I’ve enjoyed getting my first close up look at Neymar, Lucas Moura, Oscar etc. during these Games, the level of competition has frankly been pretty disappointing and many of the matches have been played out at low intensity in front of mediocre crowds. I’m sorry guys, but the 100g gold is the most you deserve.

The other sports that sit in this category are women’s football (at least there are no age limits), basketball (rumoured to be considering implementing age limits to give greater weight to their own World Cup), tennis (it may be at Wimbledon, but the players would still rather win actual Wimbledon), handball (I remain unconvinced by Bill Simmons’ new found appreciation), hockey, volleyball, waterpolo, and, on the basis of my conversation with Patrick, road cycling.

One level up from that you have the 200g gold medal events:

Once you’ve got the traditional team sports out of the way there are still a number of events where athletes rely on someone and/or something else. Don’t get me wrong, I love team sports and recognise that there is often greater skill involved in coordinating multiple people than just a single person, but when it comes to the Olympics I’m all about the primacy of individual achievement. A friend of mine recently asked, “Not being a dick or anything but is equestrian even a sport? If anything, the horse should get the medal.” I’m not sure I entirely agree, but the greatest equestrian in the world couldn’t compete at the Games without a horse. The involvement of the horse, not to mention many of the events being competed for as a team, sees equestrian fall into the category of the 200g gold.

Other sports that fall into this category are anything synchronised (diving, swimming, trampolining), table tennis and badminton doubles, all the relay events in both swimming and athletics, and beach volleyball.

Also anything that requires basically no movement falls into this category. Sorry shooting, archery and chess (oh wait, not an Olympic sport yet?).

I would reluctantly also put boxing in this category because, despite Olympic boxing’s great appeal and it being a sport where the Olympic committee seem to have got the rules on professionals competing right, it is also very difficult to argue that, for many boxers, the Olympics isn’t just a checkpoint on their way to bigger and better things.

Finally, as much as it saddens me to say it there are some sports that simply fail to capture the imagination in the way that a true Olympic sport should. I know there will be fans of the sport out there that will argue until their blue in the face that it’s not the case, but taekwondo, wrestling, sailing and (outside of Asia) the table tennis and badminton singles will never capture the imagination of the average punter in the same way as swimming does, albeit only every four years.

Which brings me to the 400g gold medal events, the pure events of the Olympics, the sports that have you turning on the TV knowing nothing about the event and somehow getting swept away in the emotion of it all and choking up as an unheard-of Lithuanian claims gold in the 100m breaststroke.

These are the sports that typify the Olympic spirit, not just in the sense of ‘Faster, Higher, Stronger’ but also in the sense of mutual reinforcement. The sport is made better by the Olympics (can anyone honestly say they’ve sat up through the night to watch an athletics World Champs?), but the Olympics is made what it is by the sport. I can imagine an Olympics without football, without archery, and just about without boxing. But an Olympics without swimming or athletics is heresy. It simply wouldn’t be the Olympics. Whilst great Olympic teams do sometimes stick in the collective consciousness, particularly in the smaller countries where medals are rare (Hungary in waterpolo for example, or,to a lesser extent, USA’s basketball Dream Team in 1992) our Olympic heroes typically come from the 400g medal sports.

No Olympic Games has truly started until the first medals are won in the pool and London 2012 was no different. Yet the Games don’t feel like they’re in full fling until the athletics gets started a week later. Some of the sneaky good viewing from any Olympics comes in both the weightlifting and the judo. And you have to admire the versatility of both the triathletes and those competing in the modern pentathlon (even if the latter rarely gets the television coverage it deserves – if they put this on outside of the Olympics I’d watch it – and that’s before you exploit its potential to make a great reality TV show). Despite both the teamwork and question marks that remain over how much it means to the athletes track cycling remains an important part of any Games and perhaps I’m showing my New Zealand bias but you can’t take a 400g medal away from the rowers.

Like I say, I don’t have a particular agenda when it comes to seeing sports added or taken away from the Games (except golf which should not be allowed under any circumstances). The Olympics remains the spectacle it is because of the smorgasbord of events on offer. But I do think that this new scheme would give literal weight to something most of us already accept: Not all Olympic medals are created equal.