The night Charlie Bird got his chance at the big time

TV View: Charlie Bird muzzled? Are there any lengths to which this Government will not trek to protect its sensitivities? And shocking, too, to hear, from Charlie's personal trainer, that "he's been under a cloud and he's ust coming out from under it". True, he got some grief for not exactly being n the precise spot (aka Kuwait) during the Iraq war, but this all seemed like an verreaction.

To add to Charlie's woes, Tracey Piggott said she didn't fancy him but - and this was the night's one consolation - Anne Cassin said she did. Since Dustin the Turkey was an egg he's lusted after his RTÉ colleague (Anne Cassin that is, not Charlie Bird), so next time the feathered one bumps into Charlie in the corridors of Montrose he should be gracious enough to give him a 'go on ya good thing'.

Charlie, we learnt, is "out of Vintage Prince and The Other Daisy", which might explain why he's such a dogged reporter, but sadly, we were told that he picked up a bit of an injury recently and hadn't been himself.

At Shelbourne Park on Friday night, though, the RTÉ newsroom, who've invested a lot of time and money in Charlie, were hoping he would come good in the Ladbrokes 600 Final.

Anne told Tracey that the newsroom was upstairs in Shelbourne Park, en masse, having its dinner. If Bertie Ahern had been ousted in a coup that night a Montrose cleaner would have had to impart the news (eg: "According to BBC's Teletext Bertie's been toppled in an Offaly-led rising - when the lads get back from the dogs they'll tell you more.").

"Did you ever think you'd see Charlie Bird going in to a dog trap," chuckled Michael Fortune when Charlie's handler put a meaty hand on his rear and shoved him in to his box ("God, how many times have I wanted to do that," as one unnamed Government official put it).

Race time. They had taken the muzzle off Charlie and there was no stopping him. Except the other five dogs left their traps significantly quicker. Then Kansil O Kee tripped and fell over. "Charlie Bird is very, very badly hampered," howled a despairing Michael, who merely hinted at his involvement in the RTÉ syndicate. Charlie's race was all but up when he stumbled into an upside-down Kansil and ended up on the outskirts of Ringsend. The Other Master won, Frisby Fassan, trained by Harry Crapper, finished in the number two spot.

Also finishing in the runners-up spot last week were Jordan, the mammothly mammaried model, and Arsenal. Some would say they have lots in common - all front, no substance - but that, of course, would be unkind. While Arsenal finished second to you-know-who, Jordan was beaten to top spot in Channel 4's '100 Worst Britons' by none other than Tony Blair.

In all, five sporting figures made the list. At number 96 was Chris Eubank. At 91, David Beckham - three places higher than Anne Widdecombe, which tells us just how much the lad has to work on his PR.

Why do so many Britons hate Beckham? "He threatens some men with his sensitive and exhibitionistic, not to mention narcissistic, masculinity," explained writer Mark Simpson. And there were you thinking it was because he was rich and successful and gives most of his money to hairdressers and clothes designers with wicked senses of humour.

Next, Vinnie Jones, who beat (up) Alan Titchmarch to 61st place. Then there was Prince Naseem Hamed in 46th spot. Did Jade Goody, that strange Big Brother creature who was voted Britain's fourth-worst Briton, confuse the Prince with a recently deposed world leader? "Saddam Hussein? He's a boxer, inne?" Seems so.

Britain's most loathed sports "personality"? Ferguson. Alex Ferguson. "A puce-faced Scot who chews gum with his mouth open," as one contributor's accolade went. Ferguson finishing above Lizzy Windsor and the Queen, Victoria Beckham.

And Limerick's footballers finished above Cork yesterday, for the first time in 38 years. "The odyssey begins," as Michael Lyster put it, introducing the 2003 championship, while lost in the midst of a studio set that could easily be flogged to Estonia for their hosting of the Eurovision Song Contest later this month. At half-time Cork led 6-2, in yellow cards, Limerick led 10-5 in points. At full-time Cork football diehards, few of whom appeared to turn up at Páirc Uí Chaoimh, felt much the same as their West Ham counterparts.

Damn it, we're all meant to be hard-hearted, pitiless souls, but the sight of that tiny ginger-haired lad, sitting on his da's shoulders, singing a tearful version of 'I'm forever blowing bubbles' after West Ham had been relegated . . . God . . . not since Sophie had to choose between her twins has this couch blubbed as much. The bubble burst. And that little lad will need a hell of a lot of puff in his lungs to inflate the Hammers again.