The only thing I had in common with the 45,000 spectators at the recent Bahrain Grand Prix was that the sun was shining and the temperature in England was 26 degrees.

Of course I had full television coverage to entertain me but this fell a long way short of actually being at the track.
Yes you get the information you need, in order to know what’s happening and the race events can be seen to unfold but not all the senses are satisfied. The noise of the engines and the smell of the petrol are all ingredients that are essential to truly appreciate this fantastic event.
This situation is a long way away from memories of the 70s when sport was first capturing my imagination.
There were no low-cost air flights then and foreign travel was an exotic experience that only the rich and famous made. That and sportsmen travelling the globe to compete in matches against opposition that we knew nothing about except from the reporters who covered them and the occasional live coverage on television. It was a romantic time for sports fans which will probably never be recaptured.
In October 1974, I was eight-years-old and the Rumble in the Jungle between Ali and Foreman was the only sporting event being talked about. It had been postponed for six weeks due to a hand injury to Foreman which only added to the growing tension.
The fight was taking place in Zaire, now the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and the reason for this was Don King needed the fight bankrolling and the then President of Zaire was the flamboyant  Mobutu Sese Seko who kindly obliged.
Of course, I knew nothing of this, I only knew this was special and the fact I watched it on television was in itself as exotic as anything I could have done.
It would never have even crossed my mind that I could have been there. In reality, this very fact that I could not be there meant that the watching of it on television made it special.
I soon became addicted to listening to cricket on the radio and while the Test Series in England covered by the BBC were great it never matched the radio coverage of a test series in India or Australia.
These were places of mystery to me, fleeting pictures on TV documentaries aside, and only my imagination and the words of the commentators gave me my pictures.
Any victories by an English touring team always felt double from that of a home win. They were heroes winning against all the odds in conditions alien to them and us alike.
In a similar vain, India and Pakistan Test Matches have always held a mystic and intrigue about them that television could never satisfy and whilst I loved watching the games it was only when I went to a five day test match at Eden Gardens in Kolkata that my senses were finally satisfied.
The colour, noise and passion, not to mention 80,000 fans were just incredible and an Indian victory in the last hour of the final day was icing on the cake.
I watched the TV featuring Bahrain’s special sporting event with mixed feelings. As the five red lights went out I waited to see who would get to the first bend in front. It was Massa and then I waited for the race to unfold. I was excited and looking forward to it but I was not actually involved.
The commentators described the atmosphere as incredible and I had absolutely no doubt that it was. Ironically though, the more they told me how great it was the more removed I became.
I know they were trying to set the scene for me but they were just making me more disappointed not to be there.
In a world where air travel is cheap we live in a smaller world where every international journey is possible, therefore excuses are being removed for not being there. I wish had been in Bahrain.
When I bump into anyone later I will be able to describe the race events to them in detail but I will not have the look of someone who has witnessed an extraordinary sporting event. Television is a fantastic way to watch sport but it falls a long way short of being there.
That’s why the only things I have in common with the Bahrain race-goers is the weather and the fact that by the end of the race we both knew who had won.
In every other way we will have had completely different experiences and I know who has had the better ones … and it’s not me sitting in the sun in England.

Nothing like the real thing
Patrick Cummings in England