OLYMPIC torches were on my mind in the year 2000, especially the torch, or torches of 1948, carried by the 3,372 torch bearers who brought the flame from the Temple of Zeus in Olympus, Greece – a distance of 1,232 miles – to Wembley arena in London.

Last updated 15:30, Sunday, 18 May 2008

John Mark, a London athlete, had the honour of lighting the Olympic flame. I doubt that he needed a squad of heavies to get him through the streets of the capital. Not that there wasn’t a crowd at every handing over of the flame. But it seemed to be a pretty informal affair. At one stop it seems that members of the crowd queued up to light their cigarettes from the flame. Could you see ‘Elf & Safety and the Anti-Smoking lobby letting that happen in 2012?

“There was local interest in this ancient ceremony, as the torch, had been designed and constructed by High Duty Alloys.” That’s what I wrote last time I dealt with this topic. And so it was. But by High Duty Alloys, down in Slough. It was they who constructed all the torches, 1,600 in all. Thinks! I wonder which firm will get the commission to produce the next set of torches.

From the sublime to the ridiculous, so to speak. Back to the Cockermouth of 1891, when J Park, landlord of the Bush Hotel, was holding his annual gala and sports on the cricket ground, Sandair. His advert declared that he was offering “upwards of £40 and two silver cups” as sports prizes. The main competitive event was to be a Handicap Footrace, for a first prize of £12. Even coming fourth and winning five shillings was worthwhile.

It was to be run over 130 yards, a somewhat odd distance. Was this usual for handicap events in those days? What the press advert doesn’t tell us is how much each runner had to pay to enter.

Mr Park had organised a star attraction for his gala. He’d booked Joe Darby, who was “the champion jumper of the world.” So what did he do? High jump? Long jump? Triple jump? And how on earth was he going to keep an audience amused by a display of non-competitive jumping. The answer is that he did a lot more than just jump, and the gala advert described what he was going to attempt.

He was going to “jump off one brick, end up, over four chairs, and clear 12 feet, without knocking the brick down.” Then he was going to “jump off one brick, end up, over a chair, drop on to another brick, end up, without knocking bricks down.”

If that wasn’t difficult enough, how about “Jump off a brick, end up, over a chair, drop on to another brick, end up, off that, over a bar five feet high, without knocking bricks down.” Just a few of the feats he was going to perform.

For his evening performance he varied the routine. How about “jump sideways over three chairs” or “jump over six chairs in one jump” and even, as a special, “jump over eight chairs in one jump.”

I’m a bit puzzled by his “sensational Water Jump” in which he “will alight on the water and off again without wetting the upper leather of his boots, a feat never accomplished by any other artist in the world.”

And there was one trick he must surely have struggled to get a volunteer from the crowd to help him with.”Jump over a chair, on to a man’s face whilst lying on the ground, and off again, without hurting the man.” A potentially painful stunt - for the volunteer.

But possibly not as painful as for the combatants in a boxing match held in November 1921 at “Professors Gess & Patterson’s Boxing and Sporting Pavilion on Maryport Fair Ground.” Held on a Saturday night, the bout, scheduled for 10 rounds, was between “Billy Delaney, of Bradford, a very useful Lightweight” and “Billy Musgrave, Maryport, a coming Lightweight.”

There was nothing Olympian about this contest. It was all about money. As the advert stated: “Musgrave will receive £5 if on his feet at the end of 10 rounds.” I wonder if he ever got his money.