A weekly review of the last week in the world of sport. Beware of low-flying hairpieces.

Well then, strap yourselves in and adjust your thermal undercrackers, because the last seven days in sport have been more chaotic than a stag do in a snow globe. If you thought Febuary might calm things down, you’ve clearly never met the Winter Olympics, the Australian Open, or a heavyweight boxer whose hairpiece has the structural integrity of a Poundland bath mat.

We begin with the Winter Olympics, which kicked off in Italy with all the usual pomp, ceremony, and athletes hurtling down mountains at speeds that would make a police chase look leisurely. Britain, as always, turned up with a mixture of optimism, plucky underdogs, and at least one competitor whose event involves sliding down an ice chute on what appears to be a tea tray. The Italians put on a spectacular opening ceremony, although several viewers complained they couldn’t tell which bits were artistic expression and which bits were technical malfunctions.

Meanwhile, in the world of figure skating, Spanish skater Tomas‑Llorenc Guarino Sabate made headlines after receiving official copyright clearance from Universal Studios to perform to Minions music. Yes, Minions. The little yellow tic‑tacs of chaos. Sabate will now glide gracefully across the ice to the soundtrack of animated goblins who sound like they’ve inhaled a balloon. Purists are furious, traditionalists are weeping, and children everywhere are demanding that someone skate to Baby Shark next.

Down under, Elena Rybakina won an absolute belter of an Australian Open final against Aryna Sabalenka — a match so intense it made cage fighting look like a Pilates class. Rybakina held her nerve, her serve, and her sanity, which is more than can be said for the fans paying £14 for a bottle of water. Sabalenka smashed rackets, Rybakina smashed winners, and commentators smashed clichés like “grit,” “determination,” and “she’ll be disappointed with that.”

Speaking of smashing things, Emma Finucane broke the world record in the 200m track sprint qualifiers, hitting an average speed of 73.8 km/h — or, in British terms, “faster than your uncle claims he drove on the M6 in 1987.” Finucane completed the flying 200m in 9.759 seconds, which is roughly the amount of time it takes a Premier League footballer to roll around pretending to be injured. She is now officially the fastest woman on two wheels, unless you count someone on a stolen moped fleeing a Tesco Express.

In the boxing world, we witnessed one of the greatest sporting moments of the decade: Jarrell Miller’s toupee being punched clean off his head by Kingsley Ibeh. Yes, a knockout blow — not to Miller, but to his hairpiece, which attempted to flee the ring like a frightened hamster. Spectators gasped, commentators choked, and the toupee itself is reportedly negotiating a rematch. Miller insisted afterwards that the hairpiece was “secure,” which is a bold claim for something last seen orbiting the third row.

Back in the land of polite applause and chalk dust, the snooker world mourned the passing of John Virgo, a man whose voice was as much a part of the sport as the balls, the baize, and the inexplicable number of waistcoats. Virgo’s “trick shots” were legendary, even if half of them looked like he’d made them up on the spot after three pints. The sport won’t be the same without him, and neither will the impressionists who relied on his catchphrases for 40% of their material.

So there you have it: a week where Minions invaded figure skating, Rybakina conquered Melbourne, a toupee achieved temporary flight, Finucane broke the sound barrier, the Winter Olympics began in a blizzard of chaos, and John Virgo took his final bow.

Tune in next week, when presumably someone else’s hair will fall off, another world record will be broken by accident, and Britain will win a Winter Olympic medal in a sport nobody has ever heard of.