I'm far from the first to say it, but it bears repeating: the BBC's coverage of the Olympics has been amazing.
First, the sheer breadth and scale of it. By using BBC1, 2, 3, the red button and online, the corporation ensured that not a second wasn't broadcast live - and of course, if you missed it, it was easy to find in your own time. The online operation, in particular, is a marvel, a treasure house of user-friendly gems. For example, have you ever clicked on those little yellow boxes in the bottom right of the frame? The things you can do!
Second, the camera work. The BBC was one of the unsung stars of the opening ceremony. Its cameras gave us the spectacle from the ground up and the inside out, showing us the gleam in Kenneth Branagh's eye as well as the more traditional panoramic shots. And not a camera in sight. All the rubbish stuff - cutting away from Murray as he hugged his mother - is the OBS's fault.
Third, and most importantly, the presenting. I'm about to review some of the presenters and yes, snark will ensue, but the overall standard has been excellent. When it works, the formula is simple: give people who know what they're talking about the opportunity to talk about it. That's it. Someone with genuine knowledge and the ability to bring that alive for people - there's nothing better than that. You don't need Fearne Cotton. Just pick the right presenters, trust them, and trust in the viewers.
But now, the moment that the whole of the BBC, indeed the whole country, has been waiting for: Marbury's medal ceremony.
Gary Lineker. Look, it's a tough gig, being the anchor. You're meant to have a passing knowledge of every sport. You have to embody the nation's emotions: pride, disappointment, delight. You must convey authority and gravitas. Lineker has done OK, I think. But it's funny how, away from his Match of the Day habitat, his weaknesses show up. That low-key charm can come across as apathy. In fact, he often just seems exhausted. When he strains to convey passion - well, you can see the strain. I think he's great on MOTD but on the grander, more emotional stage of the Olympics, he's underpowered and a little dim, like an energy-saving lightbulb.
John McEnroe. Lucky to be on the podium at all, actually. Yes he can be charming and funny, and I love him at Wimbledon. But the BBC, by using him so much, was neglecting the formula outlined above. The guy knows next to nothing about most of the sports he was being asked to comment on. It showed.
Gabby Logan. Logan works hard. You can tell she's been up at 6am for the last two years, rain or shine, practicing her her interview technique, her segues, her knowledge of the Hungarian synchronised swimming team, her fun mum dancing. Logan has been clearly been working particularly hard on what's been, in the past, the weakest part of her game - her humanity. She's now actually pretty convincing as a chatty, funny, almost warm personality, as well as being super-controlled and knowledgeable. So really the only thing separating her from a gold medal has been the fact that she sometimes tries to show off her homework a little too much. Plus, that 'Gold' routine sets my teeth on edge.
Denise Lewis. Passionate, emotionally involved and eloquent. What brought her up short from a gold was a lack of really crunchy insights about the action. I rarely felt like I was learning stuff from Lewis. But I always enjoyed watching her.
Clare Balding. OK, everyone has said this, but again, it can hardly be said enough. She's the tops, she's the Orbit tower, she's Bolt and Phelps and David Rudisha. Balding has the rare ability to seem like a fan and an expert at the same time. She seems excited about what's going on - which makes you excited - but never forgets she's the anchor and has a responsibility to bring pace and narrative to the discussion. She brings the best out of her guests because she's intensely curious about the details of whatever sport she's covering (mainly swimming in this case) and because she takes delight in people. I tip her to anchor the BBC's coverage of Rio.
Ian Thorpe. The breakaway star of the first week, Thorpe was smart, incisive, brilliantly funny and yet deeply serious about his sport. We'll need to run the stats, but his insight-to-words ratio may have been the best of the Games.
Steve Cram. That soft Geordie lilt makes watching the middle distance runners even more pleasurable that it would be otherwise. Of course, he really knows whereof he speaks, so when he gets truly excited - as he did after Rudisha's world record - it gets the viewers excited. Not many ex-athletes seem as at ease with themselves as Cram does. He exudes decency, dignity and a mild, teasing humour.
Michael Johnson. The King. Almost as good at punditry as he was on the track. Highly intelligent, brimming with confidence, he will tell you things about a race you've just seen that will make you see it completely differently. He makes Colin Jackson seem like a child and shows him up as the insight-free chatterer that he is. Johnson can do banter. But underneath it all, this is a serious guy. He says, look at this - and you look, and you see something new.
All The Specialist Commentators. These guys, who know everything about gymnastics or volleyball or judo and who are so involved in their chosen sport that they can carried away with emotion at climactic points, are brilliant. After this weekend, of course, they must return to cryogenic deep freeze. Marbury looks forward to hearing from them again in 2016.