When I finally sit down to watch TV of a night time, all I seem to see is the same five minutes of basketball pon de replay and people with speedos on their heads trying to drown each other.

But I have managed to see some memorable moments. For example, the Tongan flag bearer should receive some sort of country honour for women everywhere rushing to their travel agent carrying bottles of baby oil.

(If you don’t know what I’m talking about google Pita Taufatofua and thank me later.)

And I’m no fashionista but even my vision was assaulted by the Chinese team uniforms. They looked like someone had tipped tomato sauce over Willy Wonka.

And the Swedes were even worse. It was like they had put on their roller derby gear and threw lemons at each other. I couldn’t stop singing Xanadu for hours afterwards.

But my favourite moment so far has been the Michael Phelps death stare on his rival Chad Le Clos from South Africa, who was shadow boxing in the call room waiting for their 200 metre butterfly semi-final.

I’m surprised Le Clos didn’t hit the deck just from the mental KO. Mind you if I was going up against Phelps in any type of swimming event I’d be doing more than shadowboxing. I’d be pulling on the superfast body suit and getting Thorpie on the batphone for a few handy tips.

But given I refuse to swim with my head in the water and drop into my best drowning dog impersonation every time I see a pool, I don’t think that particular match-up is going to happen any time soon.

And having been a rower in a previous life, I’m sort of glad I’m not competing at these Olympics.

Back in my day, rowing was done on flat water – but apparently in Brazil they like to throw in a bit of white water rafting just to make things interesting.