TV View: No more than ourselves, George Hamilton got a little bit excited about events in Madrid. Around tea-time every weekend he probably has nothing better to be watching on telly than Ant and Dec's Saturday Night Takeaway, but, lo and behold, here he was commentating on, eh, Al and Dave's Saturday Night Gold Medal Takeaway from the Spanish capital, writes Mary Hannigan

That's two Irish gold medals - count them - in the space of an hour. He's black and blue from pinching himself.

He was, then, naturally exultant, so exultant that when the first of the winners, David Gillick, stepped on to the rostrum to receive his medal, George urged the female residents from the golden boy's neck of the woods to celebrate by indulging in a spot of indecent exposure.

"If you're down around the new Dundrum town centre right now," he said, "you can pop out your breasts with pride because here is the champion of Europe, David Gillick, the local lad made good!"

Now, it's difficult to know where to start with this one. Yes, we were all immensely delighted for young Gillick, the glow from his gold warming our toes on a Siberian-like evening. We even stuck our chests out in pride; but that's where we drew the line.

Fortunately, when we returned to the studio, Bill O'Herlihy and Jerry Kiernan were fully clothed, although both were nakedly exhilarated. Neither commented on George's indecent proposal, although both had probably booked taxis for Dundrum town centre, on the off chance, departing Montrose as soon as they went off air.

Before then they kept their minds on the job, Jerry modesty personified after predicting Gillick would see off the challenge of his chief rival, David Canal.

"A big bull of a guy, he takes up a lane and a half, a bit of a bar-room brawler," he had said of Canal, who, true enough, looked a bit of a barge.

One gold medal scooped, another to go. This time we were told Reyes Estevez would be the main threat to Irish glory, but Jerry comforted us by pointing out that the Spaniard had never won a single gold, "he throws shapes, he's a real gallery boy", and with his flashy dyed hair he was "just crying out for attention". Jerry, then, seemed to believe Estevez wasn't the complete athlete.

Besides, he was so impressed with Alistair Cragg's form in the 3,000 metres he reckoned he was nigh on unbeatable. "I ran 7.54 once and it was eyeballs out for me - he was jogging," he said of Cragg's run the night before. Those of us who have broken that same eight-hour barrier know the feeling: shattering.

"Will Mark Carroll be going for a medal too," our presenter asked.

"Bloody sure he will, Bill," said Jerry. That was a yes, then.

All set. The only thing that could ruin our viewing was if Spanish television interrupted the race with coverage of a local shot-putter in action. Spanish television interrupted the race with coverage of a local shot-putter in action. You know the lad, Manuel Martinez?

Back to the race. Cragg flying. Except it seemed inevitable that he'd be caught. Why? George: "Cragg going away . . . he's sprinting for home . . . Cragg looking so composed, so easy . . . Cragg looking so assured as he heads for home . . . Cragg is on his way to a second gold medal!"

We assumed, therefore, that the next bit of commentary would go something like this: "Oh nooooo! Here comes Estevez! He's catching up! Cragg is tiring! The finish-line approaches! Oh noooo! It's . . . Estevez! By a nose!"

But, would you credit it, Cragg held off the challenge of George's confidence to win by a distance. An Irish sporting first.

"I'm wallowing all night in this kind of glory," said Bill back in the studio.

"Yes Bill, you're playing a blinder," smiled Jerry, as Bill came over all jiggly and jaunty, as he always does on a night of triumph.

"Is there a difference between indoor and outdoor athletics," Bill then asked Jerry.

"Yes - a roof," Jerry resisted saying.

Then the pair of them dragged Bulgaria into it and there followed a surreal conversation.

Jerry: "Take a country like Bulgaria. We're far superior to them in all facets of sport but they might win three or four medals at weight-lifting, and stuff like that."

Bill: "But they wouldn't get anywhere in rugby. Or soccer." (Hristo Stoichkov: "Ahem?").

Jerry: "Or Gaelic."

Bill: "Or hurling."

Jerry: "Definitely."

Hello? When, one day, Sofia Sarsfields triumph in the European Hurling Club Championships Bill should be made go down to Dundrum town centre and . . . Ah no, maybe not.