Βι¶ΉΤΌΕΔ

On the face of it, and I don't have much in common.

Him, 6 foot 4 inches of pure, honed rowing genius. Multiple world and Olympic champion. .

Me, 5 foot and a bit of serial exercise avoidance. Drop-out from all known school sporting activities. Prone to having that one glass too many of .

But when it comes to Olympic Games attendance, we're on a par. OK, so he went five times, and came back with . I'm heading for my fifth in Beijing, and the most I've had to show for it is some rather nice and a lot of special memories.

Like broadcasting live from the steps of the on the first morning of the . Or losing a contact lens on the media bus on the way to the synchronised swimming in Barcelona, which added a certain surreal one-eyed hysteria to the event. Or knowing that every tiny stone on every corner of every street in Athens had more Olympic history at its core than the whole of Atlanta would ever have.

I'll be covering a range of sports in Beijing, most of them involving assault with a deadly weapon - think , and . And I promise to try and avoid my usual trick at the Olympics - every time I turn up, Britain's hopefuls lose the plot completely, and those medals disappear into thin air. Belated apologies to the entire .

Sir Steve can feel very thankful that I waited until he retired before I made it along to the rowing.