By 9:15 pm on August 8, I had already received a dozen text messages complaining about the "poor quality" of the performances at the Olympics Opening Ceremony, which had ended less than five minutes earlier.

"Why are my friends all so picky?" I asked myself.

As a matter of fact, what my friends and a billion others, including me, saw on the screen that night was a pale imitation of the real thing. For those of you who thought highly of the show, I can only say what really happened inside the Bird's Nest was much more spectacular.

 

The torch of the 2008 Beijing Olympic Games is lit at the National stadium in Beijing during the opening ceremony of the Games on August 8, 2008. [Agencies]

I was not inside the stadium that evening but I saw one of the dress rehearsals.

So, I was among the first to defend Zhang Yimou, who directed the juggernaut. He did a stellar job, but the director who juggled with rows of TV screens and decided which one to show us couch potatoes did a terrible job.

Whenever we wanted to see the performers, he gave us the audience seats; when we wanted a bird's-eye view, he gave us a close-up; when we wanted to be engulfed in a panoramic sweep, he gave us a static shot of one detail without putting it into proper context.

For a while, I thought I could have done a better job cutting from one screen to another. Anyway, I heard both NBC and BBC aired much better editions of the gala, with none of the superfluous commentators' prattle, which reminded every teenager of their endlessly nagging parents.

What was going through Zhang Yimou's head? Was he mad that so much effort by so many was spoilt - or perilously close to being spoilt - by a bunch of incompetent television henchmen? If I were him, I would have punched the TV director in the face.

Before China Daily celebrated its 25th anniversary, I was asked to make a five-minute video clip for the occasion. I spent 30 hours editing the thing, making sure every frame was perfect and the music fit it like a glove and every equipment was without glitch.

When the guests were all assembled, the music blared out, but the screen looked washed out. I instantly knew something was wrong, but the technical guy at the control desk seemed puzzled. "Do something!" I yelled, "This is not supposed to look like this!" After a long pauze, he realized his mistake: he had unplugged one of the video wires and forgot to put it back. By then, the clip was half way through.

In China, we have a kind of psychological last mile. We spent God-knows-how-much money on a great show, but left the job of video directing to some inept guy. We built an ultra-modern airport, but did not bother to hire an expert to translate the signs into decipherable English.

What if an athlete spends years in training and during the last hour suddenly gives up? People will be aghast. Some may not forgive Liu Xiang, but they tolerate this kind of behavior in anything that does not physically involve a mad dash to the finish line. For example, many Chinese were shocked that Liu Huan wore a black T-shirt when singing the Olympic theme song on top of the giant globe. Couldn't he wear something that matched the grandeur of the ceremony?

Liu said his choice had been approved by the creative team, explaining that wearing a tuxedo would have made him look like an orchestra conductor.

Well, I thought they had hired an army of costume designers for that sort of thing. Maybe Liu is so rich he didn't need to keep a costume as a souvenir. I, for one, would have ordered an outfit so lavish that even Zhang Yimou would have been jealous.