The air of irrepressible civic optimism belongs to another era.

"Everyone in our area supports the Olympic bid."

(No need yet, evidently, for demographically-balanced opinion polls to support the assertion.)

"We are a fiscally stable, Olympic-minded community."

I have been watching old promotional videos for Detroit’s unsuccessful bid to stage the 1968 Summer Olympics, awarded ultimately to Mexico City.

And a sobering experience it has been too.

How to relate the confidence, power and, yes, smugness exuding from these near half-century-old artefacts, with their references to "the city of champions" and "the American city whose products have revolutionised our way of living" to the much-diminished Detroit of today?

The Detroit of the 1960s, viewers were told, pooled "one of the world’s greatest reservoirs of organisational talent, the kind of men the country has…called on before to move mountains and who ask only, 'Where would you like them moved and by when?'"

Its industry was like "a stout heart within the city…the vital pulse-beat of technology and resources which has put the world on wheels".

While, for good measure, "the world’s largest freshwater beach" was "but minutes away from the heart of the city".

One of the films even parodied the Olympic flag with a Detroit flag composed of five "intermeshing gear-wheels".

I have been watching these relics for two reasons, well actually three, the first being that I am a certified Olympic anorak.

More importantly, I recently discovered that Detroit has tried harder than just about anywhere else on earth – even Istanbul - to bring the Games to the city, without ever once succeeding.

Most importantly of all, I would like to argue that there has never been a better time than the present to consider taking the Olympics there.

To take the second point first, Detroit tried seven times to land the Games between 1939 and 1966.

First time out, it gathered only two votes in its quest for the (aborted) 1944 Olympics, beating Lausanne (one), but losing out to Rome (11) and London (20).

In 1947, it mustered just two votes again, going out in the first round of a contest for the 1952 Games that was won comfortably by Helsinki.

Two years later, Detroit fared better, finishing fourth in a crowded nine-city field for the 1956 Olympics, with Melbourne ultimately prevailing over second-placed Buenos Aires by just one vote – 21 to 20. (Yes, the Games almost went to South America 60 years before Rio 2016).

In 1955, Detroit was up to third out of seven, behind Lausanne and Rome, the eventual 1960 host; while four years later, it was runner-up, albeit far behind Tokyo, the convincing winner.

That 1968 campaign brought its best showing of all, even though the 14 votes it garnered were still not enough to prevent Mexico from winning in the first round.

By 1966 in Rome, it was back to fourth and last in a race for the 1972 Games won by Munich on the second ballot.

Not long afterwards came the 1967 riot and Motor City’s Olympic dream was destroyed – for good, or so it appeared.

Now though, in a curious manner, the Olympic planets seem to be aligning in such a way as to make a Detroit candidacy a potentially attractive proposition.

For one thing, the United States Olympic Committee would probably benefit from eating some humble pie after the mistakes that undermined Chicago’s 2016 bid, confounding even the Obamas' eleventh-hour efforts to make up lost ground.

A good way of showing humility would be to ask the International Olympic Committee, in effect, to help fix an American city broken by the near-collapse of an industry on which it has depended virtually throughout the modern Olympic era.

For another thing, "legacy" has emerged in recent years as the Olympic buzz-word par excellence.

It has become, in the process, a much-abused term, but what a terrific legacy it would be if the Games could provide a platform for a city that has become a byword for rust-belt decay to diversify into new areas – 'clean' energy perhaps, or environmental clean-up technology.

After all, the city is scarcely bereft of assets: the car industry, even in its present state, remains a formidable nexus of engineering expertise, while nearby Ann Arbor harbours a world-class university.

Size might be an issue – but while the population of inner Detroit has fallen from two million in the 1950s to more like 900,000 today, greater Detroit still houses 3-4 million.

It might also be possible to involve the neighbouring Canadian city of Windsor in any Detroit Olympic bid.

The bi-national character of such a candidacy would help generate publicity and, I think, add a dash of panache and modernity.

I can imagine other bi-national bids emerging in years to come, perhaps from the Middle East, or even Europe, where Copenhagen-Malmö is an obvious candidate.

For all its deficiencies, Detroit retains in a wonderful phrase I came across in a Financial Times article "the bone structure of a great city".

Wouldn't it be something if the Olympic Movement could help it put new flesh on these bones

And think of the musical accompaniment!

The Detroit 1968 promotional films may be viewed by clicking here.

And here.

David Owen is a specialist sports journalist who worked for 20 years for the Financial Times in the United States, Canada, France and the UK. He ended his FT career as sports editor after the 2006 World Cup and is now freelancing, including covering last year's Beijing Olympics. An archive of Owen’s material may be found by Twitter users at www.twitter.com/dodo938.