Matt gets a bit more weird - October 9, 1998

I'm presently located in Vancouver Canada and it occurs to me that although I've been away from home for a while now, I'm yet to hear rumours about who will light the Olympic flame in Sydney 2000. This upsets me, we're talking about the biggest thing since deep dish pizza here and it should be hyped up accordingly.

I've decided to put my best foot forward and request that I get the job. My credentials for the nominated task will be put forward shortly, and will my reasoning behind giving a simple man one of the greatest honours in the sporting field. As you will find out, there will be great advantages in selecting myself over other, more highly favoured Australians.

Traditional thought says that we go for a famous Australian sporting figure. Names such as Don Bradman, Greg Norman and Ron Barassi come to mind, however they were all involved in what Juan Antonio refers to as "dud sports" and therefore should be given no more consideration.

Memories of our own Olympic figures feature prominently in our minds. Who could forget: Jeff Fenech crying like a baby when awarded silver in LA 84; Shane Kelly forgetting how to ride a bike for the first time in his life in 96; and any substandard performance of dropped batons by our rhythmic gymnastic team on the floor.

While I am the first to admit that we have also had some magnificent champions over the years including Dawn Fraser, Herb Elliott and Betty Cuthbert, to choose between them for the torch lighting honour would be a disservice to them all. They are all champions and are recognised as such. It would be altogether too painful to give them the task of lighting the flame, have them fail, thus ensuring that their fame endures for all the wrong reasons. Let me say now that I do not fear failure, in fact, I embrace it. By selecting me, SOCOG, the AOC and the IOC can do no wrong. While I am not nearly as famous and recognisable as the great Muhammed Ali, I guarantee that if SOCOG plough me with alcohol in the week leading up to the Olympic opening ceremony, I can shake twice as much as the great man did.

I'm not sure why but I feel that if we cannot have a sporting figure lighting the flame, we should turn our plethora of very good actors who can portray being a sporting star. This has many advantages, not the least being that if the carrier gets singed by the torch, causing permanent damage, nobody will care.

I think there are a few obvious choices here. First of all, Norman Yemm, star of the Sullivans, great Australian and himself a very capable athlete in the world of professional footracing, would have to be an excellent choice as he knows his way around a track.

Mel Gibson would have to be the next choice. Who could forget his stirring performance as the old champ athlete in Gallipoli. I would have suggested that the blonde lead from the film take the role but I presently consider him to be less famous than myself. Mel would be a great choice and to have him doing the final lap( with Danny Glover trailing behind with a handgun) would indeed be a stirring sight.

As a female option, it would be hard to look past Dannii Minogue for the role. She represents all of the Olympic ideals of a drug free body, doing the best with what the god of your choice gave you and ensuring that you don't abuse the power and wealth of those who surround you to make yourself famous. Unfortunately, the medical staff who look after Dannii strongly suggest that you do not put her anywhere near an open flame.

I also have some minor acting experience, having just completed time at a theatre training camp. In my repertoire, I feel I have the necessary skills to feign surprise when I am handed the torch, to display courage as I climb the stairs to the top and to represent the exhilaration that all Australians feel as we torch to a perfect crisp, 400 purpose bred pigeons designed to be served at the opening ceremony buffet.

Give me the torch now.

Before you all go getting indignant on me, questioning my suggestion that I deserve such a prestigious honour, let me suggest that while seemingly important at the time, the honour of lighting the Olympic flame loses its impact as soon as the real thing (ie big sweaty men getting sweatier), takes place. How many of you can remember the final torchbearer at the last ten Olympics. Sure, you might get Ali correct and a few of you may remember a younger Ron Clarke carrying the flame in Melbourne. But other than that we've got some guy who could shoot a bow and arrow and some KGB agent dressed as a Russian cosmonaut in Moscow. The bottom line is that the choice is that of the host country and there are great benefits in knowing that a genuine average, big-bellied Australian is plodding around the track. Granted, I made need to call a taxi at about the 200 metre mark given the amount of training that I've done in recent times, but I'm sure the adrenalin will get me through. I think it will be a great joke on behalf of the world's media when I go around in my Dunlop Volleys and my Ernst the Pornographer t-shirt and we show the world that the Olympics are for everyone, not just people preparing themselves for a life of canned fruit commercials.