Like Diana, Clegg's role was to look innocent and pretty - and to humanise Cameron

If I judge the national mood right – and gauging something so nebulous is never easy – a sense of Olympic enthusiasm is in the air today. So here is a chance for Nick Clegg. Nick has limited the quest for reflected glory to pointing out that his seat is in Jess Ennis' home town, and no doubt this will indeed cause the voters of Sheffield Hallam to forget tuition fees. In the meantime, the eruption of love for British Olympians suggests another opening. By weirdest happenstance, the only one in the Commons is the sprinter from whom Nick took the baton in the Lib Dem relay to oblivion. Ming Campbell, right, has strong feelings about boundary changes, warning after the Tory rebellion on Lords reform that his party would struggle to support the legislation essential to residual Tory hopes of a majority. Ming did not win a medal in the 200m, or 100m relay, in Tokyo in 1964. Even so, in the current climate, who would dare accuse the Lib Dems of treachery if they voted down the boundary changes after Ming began a speech on the importance of fair play with "As a British Olympian ..."?

Whatever is already a crime is a crime no matter what medium is used to commit it

Following Mark Cavendish's disappointment in the Olympic cycling road race, challengers are lined up for the crucial role of scapegoat. Who or what to blame for robbing Cav of his inevitable gold medal? Unsurprisingly, given that it can't possibly be put down to tactical error, the chief contender so far has been Johnny Foreigner. The problem, as Cav graciously pointed out, was the other teams' unwillingness to nurse him into a winning position. It was almost as if they were here to win, too, when etiquette demanded that they ride penny-farthings with stabilisers.

If Raisa’s jockey edges away, Mitt must call his wife over to tell him about her dressage horse, Rafalca

Greater love hath no media superman, as Jeremy Thorpe almost put it of Harold Macmillan, than that he lay down his newspapers for his corporate life. If News International employees awoke to the news of Rupert Murdoch's resignation yesterday feeling nauseous about the future, those who turned to his Twitter account for a show of regret were wasting their time.

A myth takes shape that the former PM is dishonoured in his own land, that he was kicked out too soon

At the society event of the season, what a joy to meet Andy Murray. This lover of the sweet science was ringside at Upton Park on Saturday night for David Haye's fifth-round destruction of Derek Chisora. "Hi, I'm Andy," said the modest Wimbledon finalist at the proffering of a Diary hand.

It's anyone's guess if their row was any more edifying than John Terry's badinage with Anton Ferdinand

What with hearing so very little about male British tennis players these days, a warming example of fraternal concord may have escaped the Milibandroids.