IT was the trophy that first caught my attention, long before I ever worked in television.

The metalwork film camera, an early model, set atop a wooden plinth, its four lenses jutting out towards the audience or the recipient. It remains iconic.

It’s just that I have not had any interest in who has picked it up for several decades now. The title, Sports Personality of the Year, has long since lost its meaning for me.

In the competition’s early days I dare say sports people had a modicum of personality and a surfeit of politeness.

They wore blazer and flannels or twinset and pearls and spoke with cut glass accents.

Now, with elite sport shrouded in money and not much good grace, there are precious few personalities.

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As a young journalist I was desperate to become a sports reporter because I couldn’t wait to mingle with footballers. The instant I did, I realised most were amoral, unashamedly mercenary and devoid of any real intelligence outwith the offside laws and the high press.

II couldn’t wait to move across the newsroom from the sportsdesk to the newsdesk.

But that’s by the by. Back to SPOTY, as it is now monikered. I believe it was on TV the other night, but I didn’t watch it as I was cleaning my contact lenses, or reading a book or doing something much more edifying.

I should qualify my ennui. Although not a gambling man I would have happily put the Edwards Towers mortgage on tennis starlet Emma Raducanu to win. Having just lifted the US Open singles title at the age of 18, that was a no-brainer.

Similarly, when our own Andy Murray was riding high in the sport, he scooped the BBC award. This wasn’t rocket science, nor a surprise. People vote in these competitions in their millions.

But what really made me spill my morning Earl Grey was the discovery that the England men’s footballers had won the honour of team of the year and their manager Gareth Southgate had been named coach of the year.

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For what?

They didn’t win a thing! Moreover they blew winning the Euros with the last kick of the ball!

Talk about rewarding failure.

What about Dumbarton? What about Rhu Amateurs? OK, seriously, what about St Johnstone, a team which won not one but two trophies in the same season? It’s ridiculous.

I’m not much of a one for banning things and certainly not TV programmes which bring joy to millions, if not me. But at least, BBC, please change the name from personality to person.