TV View: In 1998 respected music and entertainment magazine Q voted Blur's Parklife the 20th-greatest album of all time. Park Live is the name of RTÉ's GAA magazine programme whose theme tune is taken from the song of the aforementioned album title.

The analogy comes to a shuddering halt at this stage unless of course it's permissible to suggest that the best way to watch Park Live is through the blur of the fast-forward button. But then it's not possible to fast forward live television, is it? This column was weaned on Breaking Ball, an innovative, sharp, quirky, nicely observed examination of life on both sides of the GAA whitewash. Park Live resembles a wheezing, anaemic tribute band: just about recognisable but gratingly off-colour.

Any sports show that pleads for the viewer to send in club mascots that are "preferably live farmyard animals" (as opposed to dead ones) appears desperate for the sort of titillation an adult channel might peddle.

It is really clutching at straws or more appositely in this case, straw.

The format chases a quirky slant but too often is laboured and somewhat formulaic, although in mitigation one or two feature ideas have been interesting.

The libel laws preclude detailed comment on the "comedic" element in the programme. Suffice to say it doesn't enhance the spectacle.

Ger Gilroy is an excellent broadcaster on radio but appears a mite stifled and stilted in trying to affect a laid-back air in anchoring the show.

It's too tightly scripted at times, manifest in Gilroy asking questions that have already been answered in part. It's not always easy but the interviewer is required to listen to the answers and freewheel a little rather than simply run through a clipboard of questions.

Gilroy's appeal on radio derives from his humour, irreverence and ability to delve into topics in an informed and substantive manner.

Park Live, in common with many sports-magazine-style programmes, suffers from being too superficial, where the sound bite is king.

There are probably too many guests, placing an emphasis on apportioning small slots of time rather than having fewer interviewees and approaching issues in more depth.

Persuading the Dublin legend Brian Mullins to appear on the show was a significant coup but given the time constraints his input was relegated to a blur of sound bites.

The most striking aspect of the recent programme was an interview with the former Kilkenny hurler PJ Delaney, who went from scoring 1-4 in an All-Ireland final to lying in a coma for 11 days following an assault outside a nightclub in Thurles back in 1999.

His account of having to relearn to walk, talk, read and write and trying to embrace his beloved hurling again as a player was especially poignant. It was a high point for the programme.

There's no harm in borrowing from other shows, and some of the items, indeed the general format, appear to have been inspired by Sky Sports' Soccer AM.

The problem is that the latter programme is substantially longer and is enhanced by the rapport between Tim Lovejoy and Helen Chamberlain, whose sharp wit and banter promotes that slightly slapstick, off-the-cuff approach that such shows crave.

Park Live has potential but would benefit from discovering its own identity.

RTÉ's coverage of the European Athletics Championship has been first class under the baton of Bill O'Herlihy facilitated by the impact of studio analysts Jerry Kiernan, Sonia O'Sullivan and Eamonn Coghlan; with one cavil.

During the week a couple of Irish athletes were in action but, to view their performances live, the viewer was obliged to switch to the BBC.

RTÉ refused to bump the Australian soap Home and Away from its regular slot in the listings. Even though it was only a matter of minutes it seems ludicrous that the national station was not in a position to screen the Irish athletes' efforts in real time. The Kiernan, O'Sullivan and Coghlan insights and observations were just as instructive as those offered by Brendan Foster and Steve Cram on the BBC.

Auntie's ace has been Michael Johnson, who is every bit as impressive behind the microphone as he was when donning his spikes.

Arguably the best television moment of the week was provided by Derval O'Rourke en route to her silver medal.

It was obviously a reward for talent, dedication and hard work but there is something innately likeable about the Cork athlete from the way she comes across in television interviews.

Furthermore, her reaction to confirmation that she had won the silver medal was pretence-free, childlike almost.

There are enough sports people who affect an air of indifference or hide behind shallow, rehearsed gestures when winning: it was great to see a genuinely natural outpouring of joy in an athletics world that staggers from scandal to scandal.