The Water Cube was almost silent as a slight blonde man who two years earlier was not even diving leapt off the ten metre platform, twisted and somersaulted through the air and slid into the water with just the slightest of splashes.

Matthew Mitcham resurfaced to an explosion of applause and as the judges’ scores came up his smile of delight dissolved into tears of disbelief.

He had snatched a medal gold from the Chinese favourites with just one, perfect dive.

For the next hour the Australian looked how I always imagined Olympic gold medalists should — overwhelmed with disbelief and delight.

In some ways it was incredible Mitcham was even in Beijing, much less topping the podium. He had battled depression and burnout, retired and come back before he turned twenty. And shortly before he came to Beijing he went public about his sexuality, the only openly gay male athlete at the Olympics.

I felt sorry for the Chinese diver who came second. But after watching his team mates take the other seven medals, some apparently more relieved to have done their duty than excited about the result, it was an unforgettable upset.

Kevin Fylan adds: This is the fourth in our series of snapshots from the Beijing Games, where Reuters reporters give their thoughts on what it was like to be there at the key moments of the Olympics.

Read Snapshot Beijing, 1: Matt Emmons, by Erik Kirschbaum here.

Read Snapshot Beijing, 2: Matthias Steiner, by Sophie Hardach here.

Read Snapshot Beijing, 3: Usain Bolt, by Paul Majendie here.

More to follow over the course of the day.

PHOTO: Matthew Mitcham of Australia competes in the men’s 10m platform diving final at the Beijing 2008 Olympic Games, August 23, 2008. REUTERS/Phil Noble

He knew it the second he landed.

Gymnast Yang Wei knew that mathematically, emotionally, historically and rightfully the men’s all-around Olympic title was his – and the overwhelmingly partisan home-town crowd knew it too.

There was no need for Yang or for his supporters to wait the seemingly interminable minutes for the judges to review his performance on the horizontal bar – as the final participant in the sixth and final rotation of the championship, his lead was so strong that it would have taken a disaster to knock him out of first.

And there had been no disaster.

So Yang played to the crowd.

He flexed his bulging muscles. He raised his arms in triumph. He draped himself in China’s flag. He played cheerleader, waving his arms to encourage the crowd’s roars.

And all this well before the judges had announced their decision.

China’s historical sage Confucius might have been appalled.

In XIII:27 of The Analects it is written — “The Master said: The firm, the enduring, the simple, and the modest are near to virtue.”

Of course, in XIV:29 it adds: “The Master said: The superior man is modest in his speech, but exceeds in his actions.”

And with a 2.6 point win over the Silver medallist, Japan’s Kohei Uchimura, and with his win wiping out eight years of personal frustration, Yang, only the second Chinese man to capture the all around title at the Olympics, knew his actions had indeed exceeded.

He knew it. The crowd knew it. And at long last, the judges announced it.

Photos REUTERS/Dylan Martinez

Facts may be facts.

But putting meaning to those facts can be very tricky.

The fact is, China’s People’s Armed Police parked an armoured personnel carrier outside the main press centre of the Beijing Olympics on Tuesday.

The fact is, photographers and videocameramen swarmed the vehicle taking images that will travel the world. These pictures were all taken by Reuters Reinhard Krause.

The fact is, everyone who sees those images will see something different.

I’m pretty sure China meant to send the message: “These Olympics and this Olympic Village are as safe as they can possibly be.” That’s been an important theme for officials keen to counteract the news of a series of attacks in restive Xinjiang and the murder of an American in Beijing.

I’m pretty sure many outside China will see in the pictures the heavy hand of an oppressive government.

Which is right? Are both? Are neither?

What do you see?

I’ll admit that I’m not a professional sports journalist, but I like to think of myself as a decent amateur watcher of sport.

As an American living in London, I’ve even fallen deeply in love with cricket. Fencing, however, foxes me completely.

It all sounds so marvellous:

“Take the romantic, swashbuckling epics of Errol Flynn, add some rules, protective clothing and an electronic scoring system, and you have fencing at the Olympic Games. Two rivals stand opposite each other and feint, lunge, parry and riposte until one scores the required number of hits to win”  — so says the official Beijing Olympics website.

The photographs are even more alluring to me. White-suited warriors stand out sharply from pitch-black backgrounds; metal swords gleam; alien-looking bodies are captured in a state of grace.

In person, the venue oozes with romance — hall lights off, the heavy humid air envelopes all. The fencers emerge, swaddled from top to bottom in electrified suits designed to record every hit. They put on their masks. The referee, wearing a powder-blue jacket, puts them en garde and we get three minutes of violent dance-like movements: thrust, parry, fleche, reprise, riposte and goodness knows what else.

On contact, the electronic lights flash, the contestants let off wild almost inhuman screams, and the referee glances at a slow-motion replay before contorting his body into a an arcane gesture indicating analysis and scoring.

I must admit, on almost every single contact I witnessed I couldn’t figure out who should have been awarded the point — and when I guessed the referee was invariably of an opposite view.

After a while, baffled and confused — but still entranced by the beauty — I left, knowing that at least one more career route is now closed off to me.

Photo: Giovanna Trillini of Italy (L) competes against Nam Hyunhee of South Korea during their women’s individual foil fencing semi-finals at the Beijing 2008 Olympic Games, August 11, 2008. REUTERS/Stefano Rellandini

But as if having the Olympic cauldron lit by a “flying” gymnast Li Ning, suspended by wires high above the heads of 91,000 spectators, wasn’t proof enough that even gravity could be conquered by the world’s most populous nation, the government defied the elements as well.

China “blew away” threatening rain clouds with a barrage of more 1,000 rain dispersal rockets, the official Xinhua news agency reported.

Chinese meteorologists told the agency it was the largest rain dispersal operation in China, and the first time that such technology had been used to ensure the weather condition for Olympic opening.

Photo: This combination picture shows former gymnast Li Ning of China suspended in mid-air as he lights the Olympic cauldron during the opening ceremony of the Beijing 2008 Olympic Games at the National Stadium August 8, 2008. The stadium is also known as the Bird’s Nest. REUTERS/Jerry Lampen

With only five days to go before the opening of the Olympic Games, the iconic Bird’s Nest national stadium in Beijing was visible under clear blue skies on Sunday (August 3).

Despite last-ditch attempts to turn the smokey and dusty Chinese capital into the promised pollution-free Olympic venue, the Olympic Green is frequently barely visible through the haze.

The Beijing Ministry for Environmental Protection was still showing the Chinese Air Pollution Index (API) from Saturday (August 2), which was API 34. This figure is valid from 1200 local the day before until 1200 local (0300 GMT) the next day. This is grade one, “excellent”, and counts as a “blue sky day”.

The temperature was forecast to be around 33 degrees celsius with only 50 percent humidity.

The authorities have ordered many cars off roads and halted much construction and factory production in an effort to cut smog before the Games open on August 8.

Pollution has been one of the biggest worries for Games organisers who have said they may reschedule endurance events to prevent health risks to athletes.