MENTION of Michael Schumacher's fifth world title goes very much against the grain in this Grand Prix free zone. But I wish to offer the opinion that he has had an armchair ride compared with Lance Armstrong, who is about to complete his fourth successive win in the Tour de France.

Unless you count that 100-mile race across the Nevada desert, the tour has no rivals as the world's most gruelling sporting event, and it is extremely sad that it is held in low regard because of drug scandals.

It is inevitable that some suspicion surrounds the American who dominates such a tainted event, but Armstrong has failed none of his many dope tests and is worthy of the highest accolades.

His is a remarkable story because he insists that his recovery from cancer five years ago changed his approach from an under-achieving free spirit to a tactician hell-bent on success.

Having survived the maximum dosages of chemotherapy, he is prepared to work out a strategy then put his body through however many pain barriers it takes to win the tour.

He scoffs at those who claim he cannot endure such limits of human endurance without stimulants, saying: "People ask me what I am on. I say I'm on my bike, what are you on?"

This is an interesting concept - the bike as a drug in itself. I can sympathise with that as I dream of free-wheeling idly down Alpine slopes, but the thought of those interminable, lung-busting ascents would provide an immediate antidote.

Unless someone provides hard evidence that Armstrong is on anything other than his bike, he deserves to be placed on a far higher pedestal than Schumacher.

AT £80m, Manchester United's most expensive three signings have cost £3m more than the Commonwealth Games stadium.

The most appalling observation to be made about this stark contrast in values is that United now stand alone in being able to indulge themselves in disgusting extravagance, confirming that the likes of Leeds have no chance of competing with them for honours.

The most heartening observation is that the new stadium represents excellent value for money, especially when the latest estimate for rebuilding Wembley was ten times as much.

Also, unlike various stadia around the world built to stage major championships, it will not become a white elephant because Manchester City are moving into it, with the capacity being increased from 38,000 to 48,500 through the removal of the running track.

The majority of true Mancunians will pray that Kevin Keegan can continue to build a team which will grace the stadium and ultimately dethrone Old Trafford as the Theatre of Dreams.

IN these days when the tabloids fill their sports pages with all manner of banal trivia, the Daily Telegraph's chief sports writer, Paul Hayward, this week offered a sentence which might well find its way on to a sociology degree paper, followed by "Discuss."

"It's not poverty that is the problem in parts of modern urban Britain so much as institutionalised ignorance," he wrote.

This was in a piece which was otherwise reasonably optimistic about Manchester's chances of hosting a successful games. If it fails, the argument goes, it will be the final nail in Britain's reputation as a venue for international events.

I'm not sure it needs a final nail, and in any case the only importance to be attached to the Commonwealth Games is that they offer wonderful opportunities to people like the two cyclists from The Gambia who arrived, quite deliberately, without bikes. They knew they could get much better ones here, and a supplier in Preston duly obliged.

No doubt there will be stories about triple jumpers from tiny Pacific islands who can't reach the sand pit, or swimmers from landlocked African nations who have to be rescued from drowning.

A 100m showdown between Dwain Chambers and Mark Lewis-French will be worth watching, and there will be other athletics highlights. But the real joy of these games will be the chance to watch things like the seven-a-side rugby, which should provide tremendous entertainment even without any North-East influence in the England squad.

Newcastle duo Michael Stephenson and Jamie Noon were left out at the penultimate pruning, and Wednesday's final trimming also cast aside Teessider James Simpson-Daniel.

IT is hard to imagine that anyone has previously shot consecutive rounds in the Open with a 20-stroke difference, as Colin Montgomerie did.

But it is not hard to imagine that after the euphoria of his course record 64, the tempest which sparked his return to earth would be swiftly exacerbated by the storm raging in his head.

Ernie Els, on the other hand, remained unflappable and it was only right that he should win the play-off as his three opponents had come from the back of the field on the third day by avoiding the worst of the weather.

Gary Evans should have joined them, but his triumphalism on the 17th green was made to look foolish by his cack-handed efforts on the last. Still, like Jean Van de Velde, he has had his 15 minutes of fame.