Should Sebastian Coe apologise?
Google - that friend of the deskbound journalist - suggests there are 166,000 electronic entries for "Sebastian Coe" and "sorry".
This doesn't mean that our Lord of the Olympics is a serial apologiser. In the top ten is an article he penned for The Daily Telegraph, last year, extolling the easy thrill of running: "I always felt sorry for swimmers, confronted by thousands of metres of grouting each week."
But the question of the moment is whether that list of results (which Google accomplished in a Bolt-esque 0.06 seconds) should be added to.
Now that my wife, or I (but I hope my wife) will be booting up the computer at 0555 BST next Friday, to apply for the next tranche of tickets, is it Lord Coe's fault that one of us will be knackered and in a filthy mood for the rest of the day?
After two sweat-stained hours spent poring over the Olympic schedule, in the run-up to the initial ballot, in which I shipped far more money than we could afford on a fiendishly clever array of tickets, I then - weeks later - spent at least that long complaining noisily by text and phone and email about the fact that I'd got none of the tickets I'd applied for.
Exhibit A was my dead cert: the early rounds of the handball. How could that possibly have been over-subscribed?
The truth is now spread before me in the 45-page document which the London 2012 Organising Committee (Locog) has helpfully supplied for those known as the "second chancers".
This doesn't just show me that there are a few sessions of "Wrestling - Greco-Roman" yet to be snapped up. But also that my strategy, so brilliantly conceived as I cackled manically over the keyboard, was also that of everybody else decadent enough to have a family, and unfortunate enough not to be a banker.
Almost all the cheap seats have gone.
Would that I'd been strong enough to use the "sorry" word myself: "Sorry, kids: we couldn't afford for all of you to take the "B" class seats at the Athletics/BMX/Handball. Two of you will have to stay at home. The can-opener's in the drawer."
So the Games Organisers - perhaps - have been a victim of their own success, and the reams of advice clever journalists have dispensed as to how punters can plan their ticket-buying tactics. The system was confusing, to those of us who didn't graduate from MIT. But it's difficult to imagine there could have been a much fairer system, the odd slew of corporate tickets aside.
Which brings us back to Sebastian Coe and the offer of a harikiri sword.
Google's top ten informs us that he did also apologise back in 2004. That was when the woman on the door of the East India Club in London asked that he produce a photo ID. Difficult to see him having to apologise these days - at least for not being recognised.