I love the Olympics. Not least because it gives me a quadrennial chance to be unashamedly enthusiastic about games I would probably never watch otherwise. How else can I explain all the 10m platform, keirin, and eventing that I have avidly lapped up in the last ten days?

(That's diving, cycling, and equestrian, by the way. But you knew that.)

I love how international it all is. It's a thrill to watch women from Russia, the US and Cuba share a swimming pool, and somewhat less of a thrill to see spandex-clad men from Kazakhstan and Nigeria wrestle each other to the floor, but it's always backslappingly great to see the world come together for the sake of sport. 

And so, as a professional spectator, I play my part: I watch, and cheer, and despair, and celebrate.

Come together, world (Photo source: BTA.bg)

One Hand Claps for all the different nationalities of the world competing with each other. I listen to their anthems as they win, I watch their flags fly high in triumph, and I keep desperate track of Medal tallies. 

The other hand claps for the individual achievements of the Athletes. I bow to the hard work and training that underpins the medal winners as they stand on the podium, and I kowtow to the skill and talent that they possess, and that I match only in its absence.

But what is the noise made by two hands missing?

When a person of Chinese origin represents Belgium and wins a bronze in rhythmic gymnastics, am I clapping for the Chinese, the Belgians, gymnastics, or the Olympic spirit? And who gets the credit for the win?

Credit, of course, is easy to award. The medal goes to the Belgians. After all, it was Belgian infrastructure and environment that allowed the athlete to train, practice, and compete, to reach the highest level. The fact that the athlete's parents may have originated in China is of little relevance to anyone, except possibly feature magazines. 

There is little alternative anyway. How would you keep track of ethnicities? What if the athlete is the offspring of a German mother and a Filipino father, trained in South Africa, but is a resident of Argentina? Who would get the medal then?

Mohammad Farah runs, and wins, for Great Britain (Photo source: The Guardian, UK)

The spirit of the Games says that sport comes first. It is not important that some countries, with more possibilities of immigration, have a wider ethnic pool of athletes to pick from. Just as it is not important that some countries have better facilities to train their athletes. What matters in the end is achievement.

Look at Maria Sharapova. She has trained in the US since the age of eight or something, but retains her Russian citizenship, and so represents Russia in everything. She has availed fully of American facilities, but because of her Passport, her achievements at the Olympics are credited to Russia. 

In short, it's only the passport that matters. 

To be sure, I have no quarrel with nationality by passport. It is the best system we have. It's just that, as with so many international systems, it seems opportunist. And one-sided. 

So when I watch Mohammad Farah win the men's 5000 metres on Friday, as looks inevitable, I will add one gold to Great Britain's tally, not to Somalia's or Djibouti's.

That's how it should be, no doubt. But I know it will never, ever, happen in reverse. 

So I will cheer for him, because he is amazing. But when I clap, I may not hear any sound at all.