SOMEWHERE out there, there is an eternal optimist who thinks the sun will always shine.

There has to be, otherwise how else do you explain the fact that Wimbledon is held for a fortnight outdoors?

Two weeks of dry weather in Britain come around as often as Government ministers admitting that they made a cock-up, so where is the logic in holding it outdoors.

Every year it is the same as the famous green covers are hauled across the hallowed turf of SW19 and the unfortunate Centre Court punters are treated to the cat-wailing of Cliff Richard.

And predictably, the second week of the tournament sees players having to cram in their games in between the showers and the interruptions. Ironically, as I write this with Wimbledon on, the play has been suspended because of rain.

Surely, as we boldly stride forward in the 21st Century, it is a time for the tournament to move inside, or at the very least, give the show courts a roof to prevent a mountainous backlog of games.

For the stupidity of the current situation, you only have to look down under to Melbourne, where the facilities are in place for games to be played inside.

And this is Melbourne, where the daily hours of sunshine nearly out-weigh Britain's yearly total.

Both the Rod Laver and Vodafone Arenas - the Aussie Open's equivalent of Centre Court and Court No1 - can host games away from the worst the weather can throw down, while there are floodlights in place for games to be played late into the night should the need arise.

In Wales, they have proven that sport can successfully be played under a roof, with the Millennium Stadium still a fantastic venue despite its initial teething problems.

Now I'm sure the bluff old traditionalists out there would choke on their Pimms at the suggestion at playing indoors or under a roof, but the sport needs to move with the times.

People pay out good money and queue for what seems days to watch the matches, but can sadly miss out because of the weather, while Tim Henman has good reason to curse after a rain delay effectively put paid to his hopes of reaching the final two years ago in his match against Goran Ivanisevic.

But when the heavens do inevitably open and play is delayed at least there is the hope that an unlucky ball boy/girl slips and is buried under the covers.

IT was a sad week for football last week as the sport mourned the lost of Marc Vivien Foe, who collapsed during Cameroon's Confederations Cup match against Colombia.

It was a tragic incident and one that will ring home for York City fans and the family of David Longhurst. However, what was even more sad was to see the pictures of Foe splattered across every national newspaper the next morning.

The images of Foe being resuscitated on the pitch, carried off with his lifeless limbs dragging on the ground and lying unconscious on the pitch will leave a permanent imprint on the mind.

But why, oh why did we need to see them splashed across front and back pages. How will Foe's wife and family have felt to have seen the death of their loved one opened up for the world to ogle at? And can anyone honestly tell me that these were pictures that they wanted to see?

I know football is a market drenched in commercialism, where the pounds, euros and even dollars have bought its soul, but that does not mean it should be devoid of sensitivity.

TKO was written this week by Tony Curtis

Updated: 11:28 Tuesday, July 01, 2003