Don't agree? Right, flux your capacitor: the football and hurling championships are cornerstones of any successful year and for the others, perm as many as you fancy from the plundering of Cheltenham, Derval O'Rourke striking gold in Moscow, the Triple Crown, the Leinster-Munster showdown and the Ryder Cup in September.

That's before we entertain any thoughts of someone (we're thinking of you, Bernard Dunne) coming good on their promise. Hey, we're even sending our strongest team to Germany (although new signing Graeme Souness might struggle with Dunphy's edge, the doggedness of Brady and Giles's grandaddy cool).

On those foundations, build on the sun-filled conservatory with panoramic views over the Cliffs of Moher, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon and proximity to the M50 that is Munster winning the Heineken Cup and you're left scratching your head trying to figure out (a) where on earth On The Air is going with this house-building metaphor and whether he's being sponsored by Roadstone (a more reliable manufacturer and distributor of bricks you'll struggle to find, since you ask) and (b) who else with Wee Barry and Dennis Taylor lit the bonfires of 1985.

Yes, there are visible cracks (no Damien Duff or Shay Given on the world stage, for example) but we're choosing to paint over them with Dulux, a product that colours the rainbows in On The Air's wor ld .

Anyway, to business. Pat Butler was one of RTE's men on the street in Limerick last Sunday, talking to organisers, fans and suchlike. At one stage he was surrounded by a quintet of lassies only too happy to chat about their European champion boyfriends and everything was tipping along nicely until Pat came to a Dublin girl who couldn't have been more gracious in victory/defeat.

"I'm a Leinster girl and I've never seen anything like this before. . . They're really not fair-weather fans." Now he may or may not have received a prompt in his earpiece but Pat seemed just a bit too keen to hand back up the food chain to Marty Morrissey, who had "someone good" to talk to. Ouch.

The shenanigans were great craic, like a low-budget wedding video from beginning to end. A garish but cuddly caption to kick off, guys and gals dressed in their Sunday best, kids big and small hogging the limelight, and men in suits . . . high on atmosphere and fermented apples . . . belting out 'The Fields of Athenry'. Munster, we salute you.

After all that rabble-rousing, enter the controlled, saccharine world of the English soccer captain as shown in ITV's hagiographical David Beckham: A Footballer's Story. We can't help but like this ordinary guy to whom extraordinary things have happened but presenter Tim Lovejoy's fawning left a sickly feeling that lingers. We don't mind a little spin . . . in fact, it's what makes our world turn . . . but presenting Beckham only as the manipulated and never as the manipulator does nobody, including the documentary's subject, any favours. Was it for this that Stuart Pearce cried?

Soccer Aid pitted a motley crew of former players and assorted celebrities from England against a Rest of the World selection in training for last night's Unicef fundraiser at Old Trafford. Lahndahn Tahn's Terry Venables versus Mr Shexy Football, Ruud Gullit.

Saucy Robbie Williams versus, well, saucy Gordon Ramsay. Paul Gascoigne (you'd worry about him) versus Diego Maradona (yipppeeee, we don't have to worry about him any more).

A few highlights. Williams geeing up his team by singing a tailored version of something like 'Rock DJ' while John Barnes, big roundy head on him, walked like an Egyptian. Brian McFadden being genuinely upset after Eddie Irvine left the training camp with an injury (the first of many to go walkabout). The bizarre spectacle of Tony Adams, Ronnie O'Sullivan, Les Ferdinand and Welsh singer David Gray wearing the Three Lions with pride while Lothar Matthaus and Peter Schmeichel toiled with Alastair Campbell, Ben Johnson and Craig Doyle. Gascoigne being visibly shaken after hearing that he was left out of the starting line-up for a training match against another squad of former England stars which included Glenn Hoddle . . . presumably because Gazza wanted to punish the former England manager for selection sins made in a previous life.

Back in the studio, Antdec did its usual job of keeping things chugging along nicely and maintained the vibe that, gulp, "handy player" Maradona actually IS going to show up after all.

Our Diego back kicking a ball. Golden times indeed.