Mixed news from Dancing with the Stars, the American equivalent of Strictly Come Dancing and, as such, the World Series of pro-celebrity ballroom. (Or that’s probably how they refer to it there.) On the plus side, Donny Osmond has just posted the highest score of the series so far with an Argentine tango that exposed a menacing, sexual darkness at the heart of the singer that couldn’t always be reckoned on back in the days when Puppy Love was in the charts. On the downside, sport’s challenge for the transatlantic title is in dire trouble after the surprising exit, in the wake of the most recent phone vote, of Natalie Coughlin, the record-smashing United States Olympic swimmer.

To say Coughlin looked gutted at the public’s verdict would be a bit like saying that Diego Maradona looked a little overstimulated when he ran to the camera after that goal in the 1994 World Cup. The pool-trouncing hero of Beijing 2008 tried to raise a smile, but the combined weight of her misery and the obligatory stage make-up (which conforms to American broadcasting regulations and is therefore at least three-quarters of a stone heavier than United Kingdom equivalents) rendered her momentarily incapable of facial expressions and, indeed, speech.

She wasn’t alone. Coughlin had topped the judges’ leaderboard during this series and many qualified viewers felt she had enough in her legs to go all the way to the trophy — not least Len Goodman, who doubles up as head judge in the American series (courtesy of the miracle which is first-class air travel) and who was, for a while, beside himself with anguish. “I can understand the viewers want to support underdogs,” Goodman opined, “but justice must prevail.” It’s the age-old Strictly cry, one sighs to report, and a seven-hour flight doesn’t make it any easier to swallow, clearly.

Coughlin’s exit leaves American sport leaning uneasily on Michael Irvin, the former Dallas Cowboy and (though Goodman didn’t say so explicitly) one of the fortunate, popularity-blessed underdogs to whom the head judge was referring. Carrie Ann Inaba (the judge that UK viewers don’t recognise) has said, witheringly but accurately, of Irvin: “Your dancing is a bit like the economy. Every week you’re supposed to be getting better, but nothing happens.”

It wouldn’t be fair to describe the legendary wide receiver as the Joe Calzaghe of the American series (he seems to be able to dance and smile at the same time, for one thing), but, like the Newbridge southpaw before the patience of Wales finally collapsed, Irvin has clearly been held above the water by massive, and not entirely dance-related, public support.

This, as veteran observers of the pro-celebrity dance scene well know, will take you so far, but whether it is enough to see off an on-fire Osmond brother at the death is quite another matter. The Osmonds had their fans too, remember.

Chuck Liddell? Long gone, we’re sorry to say. The appearance of the huge Ultimate Fighting Champion on this revered, mainstream platform was a fantastic publicity boost for mixed martial arts and signalled a new, broader acceptance for all forms of hand-to-hand combat where you are allowed to bite. (I think.) Unfortunately, it was also a fantastic boost for dancing like a washing machine, and Liddell was soon on his entirely terrifying way.

There is precious little here, then, to encourage European sport, whose 2009 Strictly Come Dancing challenge has never really recovered from the shocking first-round loss of Martina Hingis, whose sequins were barely warm when the phone vote was allowed to do its worst. With Richard Dunwoody joining her directly and Calzaghe going out soon after, a promising five-strong field has now been reduced to the popular but erratic Phil Tufnell and Jade Johnson, the long jumper, who, though strong in certain key areas (such as jumping a long way) looks outclassed by the pack leaders.

These simultaneous failings on either side of the pond can’t simply be coincidence, can they? We need an international conference to address the problem.

And while they’re meeting, what about a discussion of the place in Pro Bull Riding of plastic helmets? Tuning in to Extreme Sports for the latest from the world of blokes clinging on to angry animals, we were startled by the extent to which hats with face grilles are replacing the conventional, softer and less protective Stetson.

Now, we’re not claiming this sport isn’t dangerous. Indeed, it may be almost nothing but dangerous. These guys willingly sling their legs over several hundred pounds of annoyed beef with its hooves still on.

And they’re allowed to use only one hand. This may even be as foolhardy as going in for a 50-50 challenge with Gary Neville.

Nevertheless, plastic helmets? At the rodeo? Once again one feels the joyless hand of health and safety.