It was hard to beat the old Gregorian rant and not a monk in sight. Greg Rusedski's expletive-filled implosion scandalised a nation, Wimbledon's Pimms and strawberries set rocked to the core of their Fred Perrys.

Rusedski lost the plot when some moron in the crowd shouted "out" to a ball that was patently in during his clash with American Andy Roddick. The Canadian-born Englishman hesitated and all was lost. Unable to identify the joker in the crowd, Rusedski needed a target for a bit of spleen venting and chose the umpire at the next changeover. Every syllable was captured by the BBC, a diatribe that stunned the crowds and the commentary team of Barry Davies, John Lloyd and John McEnroe.

It was not immediately apparent what had caused Rusedski to erupt and it wasn't until a couple of minutes later, with the aid of a replay, that the commentators were able to enlighten the audience. Davies apologised to the nation on behalf of the player for subjecting them to the kind of vocabulary they would not have heard since, ooh, that morning.

This incident proved a rather colourful sideshow to Auntie's exceptional coverage of the Wimbledon fortnight, spearheaded by McEnroe. The analysis, humour, colour, candour and irreverence that the former tennis legend brings to commentating is a superb companion to the tennis itself.

The only drawback is when McEnroe is not there to chide and chivvy John Barrett, David Mercer or Davies, his absence is appreciable. Pat Cash and Fraggle Rock-hairstyle refugee Boris Becker, however, provide a counterbalance to the English bombast that occasionally detracts from the coverage.

A certain amount of partisanship is expected but the championing of Tim Henman (he's an excellent player and a nice guy) can get a little nauseous. Sue Barker has descended into the persona of 60-plus twittering schoolgirl rather than the polished broadcaster she can be, while the commentary resources directed towards the women's game are nowhere near as entertaining. McEnroe should change that when he grabs the mike for the latter stages of the women's singles.

The arrival of the Hawkeye technology - it shows whether a ball was in or out - and the statistics punched onto screens guarantee the BBC's coverage has something to suit the casual and ardent viewer alike.

There would have been a morbid fascination to RTÉ's broadcast of the All-Ireland football qualifier between Derry and Dublin at Clones on Saturday. One team was about to receive the last rites in this season's championship and there was also the curiosity at how Dubs boss Tommy Lyons had survived disembowelling tabloid style. Perched beside anchorman Michael Lyster was that cheeky, northern chappie Joe Brolly, he of the assassin's tongue.

Brolly is great for the viewer because he cuts a swathe through political correctness, at one stage suggesting that "like pregnant women he's had a touch of the butterflies" in his stomach that morning thinking about the game. Morning sickness is obviously overrated.

The former All-Ireland winner brings a candour; whether the viewer agrees or not, at least Brolly's comments are emotive. He described Derry's performance in the Ulster championship replay against Tyrone as "rubbish and an embarrassment", before turning both barrels on Dublin. He suggested "there are very many weaknesses in this Dublin team", listing so many you'd wonder why the Dubs were turning up.

The only annoying thing about the pre-game banter was it took RTÉ an age to produce the Dublin team-sheet. Only announced half an hour before the game, it was of huge interest and should have been dealt with at the top of the programme.

Lyons's vilification in certain sections of the media after the Laois defeat prompted Lyster to remark: "A lot of stuff written about him was not really fair." Ooh, I could crush a grape.

Marty Morrissey and Martin Carney unpicked the first-half action incisively, though how anyone could chastise the Dublin full-forward line for not scoring more seemed a little harsh given the paucity of good ball. Obviously, having been told they were playing with the wind, the Dubs half backs and midfield decided to let rip for the posts from the next postcode.

Brolly adopted a "lucky Dubs" theme at half-time - two soft goals but Derry on top everywhere bar the scoreboard - but by the full-time whistle he'd lost the will to champion his own county. He'd even given up trashing the Dubs, reconciled to another day on the box, when humble pie might return to the menu.