"AND over the bar! It's now nine to Cork, eight to Kerry. Ta fiche-do noimeid imithe sa dara leath. I know at this point there's a man called Vinny Bateman, a Westmeath man, he's trying to cycle from Mullingar to Beijing, he's gone half ways, he's now into Uzbekistan I'm told. It's a long, long time since 1277 when Marco Polo left Venice to go to the same Beijing, I don't think he had a bike, the problem is he didn't get back for 20 years, the Mullingar man will be back sooner. He now has about 7,000 raised. And there are some people coming onto the pitch down below mef" Micheal O Muircheartaigh in full flow during last year's Munster football final Not very many people saw Sky anchor Richard Keys' recent faux pas live on television, but thanks to the wonders of YouTube (search words: richard keys swears) thousands now have. Keys was doing a link for the highlights of Faroe Islands v Scotland and his patience was clearly beginning to wear thin at the end of what was, in fairness, probably a long day. After doing his usual robotic intro, Keys switched off his on-air persona not realising that he was still being broadcast. When the pictures showed a long shot of the Faroe's humble mountainside stadium, he chimed in with, "Silly little ground, stupid game, f**k off."

Now, as funny as it was to see someone so smug caught out like that, more interesting was the glimpse behind the curtain. For years now soccer fans everywhere have been infuriated by Keys and his refusal to countenance when a game is rubbish or meaningless or both. Perhaps it's his puppeteers at Sky HQ that are to blame but they don't seem to have any grasp of most soccer fans' sheer bloodymindedness. Fans don't trade on their loyalties like stocks and shares, they stick with their team, which means they generally suffer more downs than ups. Equally, we'll sit through an entire 90 minutes of rubbish hoping for one flash of inspiration that often doesn't come.

And we'll moan and bitch about what a waste of time it was and then a week later do the same thing again.

Which is why it's always nice to see Billo appear at half-time in a game shown on RTE, turn to John Giles and say, "God, that was awful stuff, wasn't it?" They're admitting the game was muck but assuming we'll probably stick around to see how it all ends and by treating the audience with respect they gain ours. But Keys has never seen a game he doesn't like the look of. Middlesbrough versus Sheffield United in a cold, echoey stadium, 0-0 at half-time and he'll still stare us down with that permanent quarter-smile, occasionally turning to Jamie Redknapp to discuss the "intriguing" first 45 minutes.

Jesus wept.

But up until his on-air gaffe there was always the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Keys was so in love with the game that he enjoyed every soccer match, even if it was the sporting equivalent of being beaten with a bag of oranges. But it turns out he can tell the difference between a game worth hyping and a game worth deriding. The Emperor knew he was naked all along, which just makes Sky . . . and Keys himself . . . seem even more calculating and cynical than before.

It's hard to imagine Micheal O Muircheartaigh being caught out in such a way by a stray microphone.

During the recent Dublin versus Wexford clash in the Leinster SHC he watched a sliothar disappear out over the terrace end and hoped aloud that some boys would find it and have a game amongst themselves. No one could fake the enthusiasm and excitement he puts into his commentaries and RTE's brilliant documentary, Micheal: The Sound of Sunday, captured his lust for (Irish) life perfectly.

In doing so they also took a loving snapshot of Ireland through the years, with the young Micheal having to travel miles to hear the nearest radio in Dun Sion and the adult Micheal broadcasting to the nation from a state-of-the-art multi-million euro stadium.

It was also clear how much effort goes into making what he does seem effortless, both by Micheal and his family/researchers. It's one thing to know the players' names, it's quite another to appear to be on personal terms with their entire extended families.

The whole programme was so sweetnatured and nostalgic that it would be very easy to be cynical about it, if you were of a mind. Personally, I think there are few more exciting things in sport than when Micheal switches idir Gaelige agus Bearla mid-attack with nary a pause. Save your cynicism for Keys and his ilk, they're far more deserving of it.