Solutions for the empty seat and crying baby problems at the Olympics

Seeing all the empty court-side seats for the two Olympics tennis semi-finals was genuinely shocking. The greatest player of all time, Britain’s best player in seven decades, the man  who won three out of the four slams last year, the only player outside of the top three to win any of the last 30 slams, it's Wimbledon – and there’s empty bloody seats!

My wife had a good suggestion. In Brazil in 2016, when it comes to free tickets (for a few genuine athletes who might have other things on their mind, plus a whole bunch of fat-arsed, pampered sponsors and liggers and hangers-on who seem to be too bone idle to use tickets ordinary spectators would crawl over barbed wire to get hold of) – why not stick their sections near the back of the various stadia? And why not make their tickets  provisional upon prior acceptance, so the relevant bureaucratic berks at the IOC, the various national associations, and the businesses forcing their tawdry logos down the world's collective maw all have to let the organisers know on the previous day how many tickets they’ll actually be using? That way, unused tickets could be offered to genuine enthusiasts 24 hours before the scheduled event.

It’s outrageous enough that soldiers have had to be drafted in to make up for the incompetence of GS4 – bussing them into sports events to spare LOCOG’s blushes strikes me as the ultimate insult to our fighting men and women. Fascist states such as China bus in spectators – democracies shouldn’t need to.

If there are any empty seats at tomorrow’s men’s singles tennis final, which will feature the two best grass-court players on the planet – who, not coincidentally, are also the two most naturally-gifted players - and which could see another British gold medal, it really would be time for heads to roll.

As for the match, I should be back where I was before the Wimbledon final, torn between supporting my all-time sporting hero and the local favourite. But, to be honest, this time there’s no conflict of loyalties – Andy Murray is representing Britain, and he therefore has my unqualified support. I suspect even the many English tennis fans who just don’t like the surly cut of his jib will put their personal prejudices aside for an afternoon.

And, you know, Murray could actually do it. Against Djokovich, he was quite superb: against Del Potro, Federer was average (by his standards) for much of the match. Murray was certainly more deserving of his win than old twinkle-toes.

If it’s a gusty day, and the Centre Court roof stays open - and if Murray plays with the sort of relentless aggression he showed yesterday - he could just about manage it. Unfortunately, the weather forecast isn’t that good, and I suspect the roof will be closed. Federer’s hard enough to beat with a full-scale gale blowing – indoors, he’s pretty much unbeatable.

Whatever, I am pant-wettingly excited.

(By the way, the soldiers on duty at the event should have orders to shoot anyone who shouts out “Come on, Andy!” when either of the players is into their service action. And those idiots who take their babies in with them – it’s not allowed at the actual Wimbledon Championships – should have all their children taken into care immediately.)