This week I've been thinking deeply about why I am unable to wrest my attention away from the Olympic Games for more than a few minutes at a time.
On the surface, there seems to be no particular reason. There isn't any cricket, the football tournament is a sideshow (there is no British team anyway), and the athletics, which I love, hasn't even started yet.
But last weekend, I found myself biting my fingernails while watching archery. I also spent an hour or so (that I will never get back) watching adolescent girls balancing on a beam and performing the occasional back flip. And I was so excited at watching a collection of women riding their bicycles up a hill in the rain that I actually had to hide behind the sofa.
I have a theory. Although the Olympics predates reality television by more than 100 years, it shares a lot of the same appeal as Big Brother (which I have stopped watching now - it doesn't measure up to the synchronised diving). We invite people into our living rooms and through their televised exploits they become hugely important to us for a few days before disappearing off our radar, much like the winners of I'm A Celebrity...
In fact, I'm not sure that there is a huge qualitative difference between the Olympic weight-lifting and the bush tucker trials - both involve people attempting a gruelling, unpleasant and rather pointless exercise for no apparent reason.
There is no doubting the fact that it is compelling. The last time I watched rowing, sailing, badminton and gymnastics was in 2004. I only watched because there were Brits competing (and, I recall, an Israeli windsurfer). When they won, I was jubilant. When Paula Radcliffe collapsed near the end of the marathon I was despondent. I am unsure why I responded in this way, just as I cannot adequately explain why I was on spilkas during the climax of The Apprentice.
Actually, The Apprentice is a good analogy, because there is a US version and a British version - much like the Olympics. The Games are so huge now that national broadcasters only show the events that feature their competitors. You can be sure that while we might be riveted by the coxless pairs, over in Milwaukee, or Florence, or Sydney, they will only be watching if their crew is also in the final.
If the Israeli guy wins the canoeing, there will be probably be dancing in the streets of Tel Aviv but no one else in the world will be watching. Indeed, the majority of the world's population will be so transfixed by the pole vault and the showjumping that they will have no idea that there was any canoeing taking place. Come to think of it, maybe there isn't any canoeing. It's quite hard to keep up with everything, even with the TV on 24 hours a day.
When I started watching the Olympics in 1972 there were fewer sports and less comprehensive coverage, which meant that most of the world was watching the same event at the same time - namely an American-Jewish swimmer called Mark Spitz who won more gold medals in a few days than Israel has won in its entire history. He also had, as I recall, a hugely impressive moustache - worth a medal in itself.
Perhaps moustache growing might make an appearance in 2012 - it has to be more entertaining than dressage.