HOW disappointing to see that the Olympics 2004 have failed to strike gold with spectators, despite the fact that the games are being held in their ancestral home.

Bizarrely, it does seem that the prospect of watching the world's finest Tae Kwondo exponents battling it out for supremacy has not drawn crowds from around the world.

Few, if any, appear to want to fry beneath a searing Athens sun to see the synchronised swimming or the archery reach a fever pitch of excitement.

Maybe we expect too much.

This year's Greek games organisers have been quick to point out that attendance figures at the 1992 Barcelona games did not reach much more than 3.2 million and that just 2.7 million athletics fans stirred their stumps to schlep across to Seoul for the 1988 games.

In Athens, they say, they may not rival the almost capacity crowds of Sydney 2000, but they are confident of selling more than 3 million of the 5.2 million tickets available.

Yet the telly and the papers persist in showing banks of empty, red, stadium seats as a backdrop to the action in, say, the handball section of the games.

I wouldn't dream of suggesting that Kylie, the undoubted star of the Sydney Olympics, might put more bums on seats than the familiar sight of Tim Henman traipsing dejectedly towards yet another early bath, one of the highlights of this year's games so far. And how could I possibly imagine that a sparkling Aegean and a pristine white sand beach, or a pint of exported Tetleys and a widescreen Premiership match, could be more attractive than watching a chukka of water polo in a traffic-choked capital city?

Still, I'd like to suggest a few strategies if the Olympics organisers are getting really desperate.

They could, for example, take a leaf out of the books of our lesser political parties, who use what they call the "mushroom" technique to create the illusion of crowded benches behind whichever here-today, gone-tomorrow spokesman is grabbing his 15 minutes of fame in the early hours of a dull morning in the House of Commons.

Or they could be a bit more radical by looking at the events they choose to stage.

Instead of going for straightforward canoeing or kayaking, why not give the event a twist by introducing a canoe rescue class?

Thousands of Brits would surely turn up to see their sure-fire gold medal prospect cruise to a famous victory by plucking a series of gasping kajaking enthusiasts from a watery grave.

And when not outshining Sir Steve Redgrave on the water, Prezza could probably notch up another spell on the podium in the boxing, judging from his lightning reflexes and nifty defensive work while out on the stump.

There would also be a fierce contest for medal placings if bed-hopping were an Olympic sport, with entrants from the soccer world as well as the political arena.

Judging by the amount of newsprint that's been devoted to the practice in the last couple of weeks, interest in this would be so keen that they would have to book out every stadium in Athens to cram in the onlookers.

Mud-slinging, which seems to go so well with bed-hopping, could be its sister discipline; and a host of wronged spouses could be relied upon to queue up to take part.

Even so, it may be that more serious measures are required. Possibly the only sure way to boost attendance would be to charge everyone a fortune, arrange for a prolonged bout of freezing, chucking-down sleet to fall on the assembled crowd, make everyone sing obscene songs, and force-feed them all a job-lot of pies filled with mechanically-recovered meat.

That ought to do the trick.

Updated: 11:18 Wednesday, August 18, 2004