They've really got me going

BEACH VOLLEYBALL: Gorgeous, often stunning, and so, so hot. Just a few minutes here feels like heaven, the beauty almost sinful to behold. It must be God's gift to mankind, this quiet, sandy coast just a few miles south of the bustling streets of Athens.

Anyway, to today's assignment - women's beach volleyball. Nestled along that long Faliro coast sits a 10,000-seater court and like all these Olympic venues, function follows form, its design instantly recognisable under the Calatrava theme. It's the preliminary rounds but there's definitely something happening inside.

Even for the uninitiated, beach volleyball needs little explanation. Essentially it's the same as normal volleyball, with three significant differences - the court is made of sand, just two players make a team, and they wear a lot less clothing. For the women, a tight bikini and a cool pair of shades are perfectly sufficient.

Women's beach volleyball is also incredibly sexy. There, I said it. They sweat it up over three sets, jumping and diving around, and celebrate a winning point with a slap on the bum.

Between sets or during a time-out they pull drinks from a large iced bucket and touch up the sun cream. Sometimes all over. If the opposite sex is not dazzled they should come back for the men's version.

In each corner of the court is a linesman, whose duties include wiping clean the players' shades. There are also two net judges, four scorekeepers, and six ball girls. But the most important person on court is the DJ. Long before entering the arena his tunes takes over, the bass turned up full and each intro carefully co-ordinated to suit the mood. Girl, You Really Got Me Going by The Kinks. Let's Dance by David Bowie. This guy has them all.

The DJ also has a wireless microphone so he can leave his decks and walk centre court during the intervals, pumping up the crowd (as if that was needed) and generally making a fool of himself.

Not that anyone really cares because beach volleyball is a bit like some drunken party anyway. Except the four central characters are actually sober, and it's not late at night.

Just how beach volleyball arrived at this point is a bit of a mystery. There are vague reports of the game being played in California back in 1927, but it was 20 years later before the first officiated tournament took place at Will Rogers State Beach, also in California. By 1987 it was under the world volleyball federation, FIVB. But the national holiday for any true worshipper of beach volleyball is September 24th. On that day in 1993 it was added to the Olympic medal disciplines.

By noon the Athens beach volleyball party is in full swing. The match of the day is up next, with Australia, the champions in Bondi Beach four years ago, taking on China.

But the first match on court has grabbed everyone's attention. The arena is maybe half-full yet noisy as hell. They've fallen for the Bulgarian sisters Petia and Tzvetalina Yanchulova, who have lost the first set to Germany's Okka Rau and Stephanie Pohl.

After competing in Sydney the Bulgarian sisters became national celebrities, this in a country that can only claim a small stretch of the Black Sea as their breeding ground for beach volleyballers.

So the Yanchulova sisters level the match, beating the Germans 21-19 in the second set. The DJ is going nuts. As the rallies get longer the Germans appear to tire. The last set is only played to 15 and the sisters win 15-13. The match has lasted one hour and eight minutes and the excitement has never waned.

It lasts right through the Australia-China match. Natalie Cook and Nicole Sanderson are seeded fifth, but Lu Wang and You Wenhui so nearly pull off an upset. They lose the first set 21-19, win the second 21-17, but eventually go down in the third 17-15.

Total (sporting) entertainment.