AT a bit of a loss with no football this week, I have become totally hooked on the Olympics, writes The Oxonian.

I am not alone in this with the nation tuning in each evening to see highly-toned athletes compete in sports we have never heard of and in which we are experts inside 20 minutes.

First, I watched an epic bike race in which our brave British Boy whipped round the wrong side of a tree and got in front of his opponent in the most dramatic style.

The way he stared straight ahead and blanked his opponent’s protests made me think he has previously cycled in Oxford, or was driving a Renault Clio that did similar things to me at the lights in Headington on Tuesday.

READ ALSO: Spires edge thriller against Brummies at Sandy Lane

“I could do that,” I told Mrs The Oxonian confidently as he powered to victory.

She nodded to the rusting racer behind the shed and said: “You’ll need to buy a pump first.”

She had a point, although I do believe I have pedalling potential. Last time I raced round the wrong side of a tree on Shotover Hill, about a dozen cars flashed their lights at me in recognition of my cycling prowess.

With Lycra-clad podium finishes a distant dream, I turned my attention to the gymnastics. One athlete finished a series of leaps and twirls that would have seen her fly into my house through an upstairs window.

Eating a Twirl rather than completing seven of them is poor preparation so I will admit to you now, dear readers, that I won’t make the grade in gymnastics.

Or, sadly the swimming. I do have a diploma for retrieving a brick from the bottom of High Wycombe swimming pool while dressed in my pyjamas, but that has been cruelly overlooked as an Olympic sport, so I am thwarted in my gold medal quest once again.

Tennis? I am as mobile as Andy Murray but lack a backhand. Shooting? Maybe a more realistic objective although I’ve only really tried with a rifle with a cork in the end at Thame Fair. See also archery and I fear they stand more than three feet away in the real games.

Any form of running, lifting or throwing event is out because of my bad back, so with four years left to hone my skills and compete in the next Games, there is only one possible sport left for me.

I need a sport that requires a keen eye, nerves of steel and very little physical exertion. I need it to be a sport that isn’t going to draw entries from all around the world, and I need a sport where I can put in hours of dedicated practise, far from the glare of the media.

Oxfordshire, I need you. The campaign to make Aunt Sally an Olympic sport starts right here…