DURING the recent World Cup (yes, it's On the Air folks, more topical than a hazelnut-rich chocolate bar) there were hardly any decent ads.

There was no John Woo mucking about with Brazil, no Terry Gilliam killing off gifted players. Just a fat Eric Cantona mumbling about beauty while looking as if he had just scavenged his dinner from a bin out the back.

Actually, that Ronaldinho-as-a-kid home movie one was pretty good, but World Cup ads used to be events. The big companies would produce pan-global, high-concept, minute-long, incredibly expensive, must-see television. This year we got some Spanish kid playing with a bunch of boring 'superstars' in his front yard accompanied by an atrociously camp soundtrack and a halfhearted attempt to resurrect an undead Franz Beckenbauer. Which makes it sound a lot more interesting than it was.

Even Sky seem to have given in to the bean counters. Their Premiership preview ads were always awful, but at least they were good for a laugh. This year, there's no Elton John, not even Rachel Stevens. Nope, this year somebody in accounts decided that the creative people could have the contents of the linen cupboard. So instead of pop giants or midgets, we get a sheet with Thierry Henry on it. Oh but look, it's tumbling. Rubbish. I could do that myself given a big enough room and a cotton-proof photocopier.

Where's the ostentatiousness? Perhaps it's because of the digital age.

With our multi-channel receivers, we can now switch over when the ads come on and watch ads on many many other stations.

No, when it comes to advertising, there can only be one reason, and that's cash. Somebody totted it up and realised that the clever cheap ads were as, if not more, effective as the mental expensive ones. Which would be fine, if they were producing clever ads. But from a sports point of view, there hasn't been a genuine conversation-starter in ages, even when companies do decide to spend.

That Ryder Cup ad, for example, arouses about as much excitement as a promo for Eircom League Weekly.

They closed down Dublin city centre for that? ! The Phantom Menace had more realistic action sequences than Padraig Harrington taking that shot while the voiceover tells us "This. . . will be EPIC!". Look, it's clearly not very epic if you feel the need to tell us it's epic in a big growly voice.

Ryder Cup ads all have that corporate vibe to them (man) and personally inspire the uneasy feeling of being taken advantage of. But in demographic terms, they're probably not aiming for hairy farmers who like darts, and maybe those RTE promos that show country folk making the pilgrimage to watch their heroes battle in Croke Park leave many captains of industry cold. Which would prove that they're dead inside.

But GAA tie-ins haven't always inspired awe either. One of the best was for the Playstation game, possibly the worst GAA product ever. After that, virtually every marketeer has managed to get their hands on Micheal O Muircheartaigh and done little or nothing with him. It's astonishing really that such a remarkable and unique character, who appeals to practically every supporter of both codes and is intrinsically linked to the game, has never once been utilised in a memorable way, despite hawking several wares over the years.

So often, it seems, once the sports personality is hired, the assumption is that the ad will sell itself. Brian O'Driscoll appeared in some ads for O2 that were blander than, well, Brian O'Driscoll. Padraig Harrington did some ads for Flora that would have been even worse, but were almost saved by the closing, immortal line: "I can't reduce my handicap, but I can reduce my cholesterol, " delivered in a high-pitched, faux casual voice that made you want to hide behind the couch in embarrassment for the guy.

Harrington is absolutely loaded. He is a sporting legend. He has more money than he will ever be able to spend barring the unlikely development of a monumental crack habit. So why would he stand in front of a camera making a breathtakingly lame pun and risk being ridiculed by an audience of millions, including hairy, know-nothing farmers who like darts?

The true sell isn't made to us as we watch these ads, the real deal is made long before, when some marketing executive sits down with someone like Padraig Harrington and persuades them that this will be a good idea.

One of these marketing people once persuaded Roy Keane to dress up as a leprechaun in front of millions. Many have forgotten that ad (or chosen to).

I have seen fans become irate at the mere suggestion, but he did. Somebody convinced Keano that dressing up as a leprechaun to sell crisps would be a good idea. Surely we have to be told who these people are. There should at least be a register or something.