As the torch is extinguished in Torino, the story of speedskater Joey Cheek’s donation of his prize money to the charity Right To Play (with money earmarked for children from Darfur, Sudan) will, at least for me, linger for a while longer.

‘The Olympics, in general, and athletics is a very selfish pursuit,’ Cheek said. ‘I wake up every morning and as I get ready for the day ask myself how can I focus all my energies on what I can do so I can be the best in the world.

‘After years of this and years of people sacrificing so I can be the best in the world, I feel that it is imperative for myself and also for anyone else who’s able to reach a pinnacle of their career — or whatever they’re striving for — to reach out a hand and help somebody else.’

***

Cheek was asked again what the Olympics meant to him:

‘It becomes very easy when you start having to sell stories and sell the Games like this prepackaged thing, it becomes very easy to make it a mockery of itself, mockery of what the ideals are,’ he said. ‘I look at sport and competition as something that has been personally enormously beneficial to me. It’s helped me create life skills.

‘And if we carry ourselves with grace and dignity and try our best — even when we fall on our faces, as will happen sometimes — then I think people will see that. And that will be the message of sport and the Olympics.’

Damn. What a swell bloke …

Read Mike Wise’s Washington Post column here.

As we slide into post-Olympics depression, we await the Next Big Thing with bated breath. The question is indeed existential — what will we do with all that time not spent staring at the tv for hours on end (equivalent to four hours a night for two weeks straight!), oblivious to the dissonance of watching world-level feats of athleticism while planted on our asses, eating takeout? What type of filler will pad the crater of meaning in our lives?

For all the spasmodic sportsfans (like myself) out there, a mental note: the World Cup begins in four months …