I was having a discussion with someone the other night about the new Strictly Come Dancing season (one of a million similar conversations taking place, I’m sure, in the nation’s pubs and clubs and wherever people gather to talk about pro-celebrity ballroom dancing) and he said that he couldn’t see any farther than John Barnes.

Interesting. Because I appreciated, obviously, that Barnes has put on a bit of timber since his playing days. But in terms of him being an obstruction when the competition gets under way on Saturday, well, it hadn’t occurred to me.

We’ll see, of course. We’ll see so many things. (Assuming we can see round Barnes, this is.) We’ll see whether Willie Thorne has it in him to sustain a dancefloor title challenge over 12 gruelling weeks and end the hurt inflicted on snooker by the underperformance of Dennis Taylor in series four.

We’ll see whether Gabby Logan, the television presenter and Times Sport columnist, can deliver on the promise of semi-professional levels of athleticism hinted at in last weekend’s preview show. (Stephanie Beacham, the legendary actress, was forced to arch an eyebrow and remark: “That Gabby creature can put her foot over her head.” I hate to break this to you, Stephanie, but no one gets to work for Times Sport without being able to do that. It’s the first question they ask.)

Above all, we’ll see whether sport can again build on its Strictly Come Dancing legacy. Darren Gough, Mark Ramprakash, Matt Dawson, Colin Jackson, Denise Lewis, Roger Black – these are names synonymous in the public imagination with donning incautiously see-through clothing and delivering a prime-time paso doble on the back of a week’s sweaty training and, occasionally, on the back of a bravely smiling professional.

Sport’s record in this competition speaks for itself: two winners and three semi-finalists in four seasons. Only EastEnders (one winner, two semi-finalists) comes anywhere near sport as a breeding ground for top-quality waltzers. What would the show be without sportspeople? I’ll tell you what it would be. It would be the sight of Quentin Willson, dancing stiffly towards Gloria Hunniford, for ever.

And sport couldn’t be better poised to write another golden chapter in the Strictly Come Dancing story. The selectors have assembled the biggest sporting field in the series’s history – Barnes, Thorne, Logan and also Kenny Logan, Gabby’s husband, the former Scotland rugby union player. The Logans are the first celebrity couple to compete on Strictly Come Dancing and their professional partners are also a couple – which is all very neat and cosy, I suppose, although it would be a shame if it gave anyone the impression that this is some kind of novelty, family show, rather than the most serious test of character that live television knows.

So who among them will shine? The Logans have, apparently, been looking good in training. And Barnes pointed out that he comes from the era of tight-fitting shorts, so at least the costumes should hold no fear.

As for Thorne, we hope that he was being disingenuous when he described himself as “the biggest layman you’ve ever had on this show”. His background in snooker will have prepared him mentally for the live televised experience, but don’t underestimate the physical side of his trade, too. Sometimes snooker players have to go as long as three minutes without sitting down.

On the plus side for Thorne is the fact that his professional partner is Erin Boag, who accompanied Colin Jackson to within one dance of glory and also, with Martin Offiah and Peter Schmeichel, demonstrated amply that she could coax refined performances out of unpromisingly large sportsmen. Technically, Thorne couldn’t be better placed to make a dark-horse run.

At the same time, concerns remain about the dry-humoured snooker man’s trademark moustache. There may be aerodynamic consequences and possibly even some health and safety implications. Mostly, though, one worries about the possibility of unwanted meshing between face fuzz and nylon and the thought of Thorne spoiling the landing of an ambitious lift by becoming Velcroed to his partner’s stomach doesn’t bear thinking about.

As for the challengers to sport’s supremacy – well, Kelly Brook will want to give it a go. And, obviously, the formbook tells you to look out for anyone with EastEnders on their CV, which, this time, means Letitia Dean and Matt Di Angelo. What is it about the training methods in Walford that allows the long-running soap to produce serious ballroom contenders again and again? I don’t know, but if I did I would bottle it and sell it to GMTV, whose runners tend to be gorgeous but hopeless.

Every competitor, though, sporting or otherwise, would do well to hear the nerve-settling words of Ramprakash. “You get used to the Cuban heels,” the cricketer said. “You accept the make-up.” Three words, then. Bring. It. On.