So Mu-yen Chu, Taiwan's first Olympic gold medallist, will not be becoming his country's second International Olympic Committee (IOC) member.

The former taekwondo champion last week lost his appeal against the body after it disqualified him from last year's election for places on the IOC Athletes' Commission.

But, as the so-called "Arbitral Award" issued by the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS) makes clear, this was a battle well worth fighting.

For one thing, it has removed any slur that might have been left hanging over Chu's good name. In the Panel's view, he was "guilty of excessive zeal rather than of a desire to cheat". Moreover: "His actions were overt, not covert. His breach of election rules should not be equated to dishonesty. His reputation and integrity as a sportsman remains untarnished."

Secondly, the Panel did not find "sufficient evidence to confirm that Mr Chu distributed lollipops".


To me this was always what this surreal if revealing footnote in Olympic history was primarily about.

At first, I acknowledge, this was for journalistic reasons: I think it is healthy for the Olympic Movement to have its pomposity pricked from time to time, and the contrast between the draconian nature of the punishment meted out to Chu and this supposed offence - which, in any other election I can think of, barring perhaps the Papal Conclave, would be viewed as legitimate campaigning - seemed rich with potential.

But I was quickly struck - and surprised - by the vehemence of Chu's denials and, as time passed, by the absence of lollipops, lollipop detritus or pictures of Chu distributing lollipops.

And since I think it fair to say it was the lollipop allegation that triggered the written warning emailed to Chu midway through the campaign, even if the email also alluded to a previous verbal reminder, it seemed to me that any failure to establish beyond doubt the veracity of this claim must weaken whatever justification there might be for disqualifying him.

And so my interest became more serious - so much so that I composed a witness statement and testified verbally at the CAS hearing.

One problem in the immediate aftermath of the election result was that the source of the lollipop allegation was unclear.

A further consequence of the CAS proceedings is that this source has now been identified.

As the arbitral award states: "The indication of such action [distributing lollipops] was contained only in an email of 25 July 2012, sent to the IOC by Ms Fiona de Jong of the Australian Olympic Committee..., who had not herself seen Mr Chu distributing lollipops, but solely referred to information provided by other athletes. Such statement, itself second hand hearsay, was not confirmed at the hearing by any deposition or oral evidence."

The actual wording of Ms de Jong's email states that: "A number of our athletes have advised that the Chinese Taipei IOC Athletes Commission nominee has been handing out lollipops in the residential area asking athletes to vote for him in the IOC Athletes Commission."

As a journalist, I think you gradually develop a pretty good sense of when people are being entirely candid and when they are trying to keep things from you.

My belief in Chu's denial regarding the lollipops, at first shaky, has hardened with each month that has passed with no evidence surfacing to contradict him.

Nevertheless, I have to allow for the possibility that he has pulled the wool over my eyes; and it seems frankly a bizarre claim to make up out of thin air.

With such considerations in mind, after the announcement of CAS's ruling last Friday, I sent de Jong an email. I asked:

1. Did you take any steps to verify what your athletes advised you? In particular, did you ask if they were in possession of any of the lollipops, or had taken pictures? Did you witness Chu doing this yourself?

2. Could you tell me the names of the athlete or athletes concerned and how I can contact them?

I quickly received a response from a Mike Tancred, who said: "We have no comment at this point thank you."

At the same time, I emailed Stéphanie Genoud-Cabessa, the IOC official de Jong had emailed, asking: "Did you or did you not seek to verify the information in Fiona de Jong's email, for example, by speaking to the athletes she refers to or asking for a lollipop to be supplied to you, before forwarding this email to Anita DeFrantz [chair of the Athletes' Commission Election Committee], along with your recommendation that a letter should go as soon as possible?"

I await a reply with interest.

What conclusions can be drawn from this strange tale?

The main one I think is that the electoral rules need loosening up.

On the whole I was impressed with the CAS process and I think one must accept the Panel's statement that Chu was guilty of violations for "campaigning in an unauthorized area and for distributing name cards and showing various documents via a tablet computer".


But, really, what sort of election is it where such acts can be deemed worthy of disqualification?

I accept that restrictions are necessary to prevent wealthy National Olympic Committees (NOCs) being able to pay for flash campaigns that hand their candidates a significant advantage.

I also accept that, the rules being what they were, Chu might have garnered an unfair advantage for himself over candidates who stuck religiously to them - although, frankly, if voters felt they were being pestered, he might just as easily have lost votes through his actions as gained them.

But these are not children: if candidates and voters engage over serious Olympic issues, then surely this is all to the good, wherever the discussion takes place, whether or not a tablet computer is used to facilitate it.

If I was running, swimming or paddling for an Olympic medal in the morning and did not want to be disturbed, believe me, I would have no qualms about telling vote-hunters to make themselves scarce or I would on no account vote for them.

And if candidates who are still active competitors are concerned lest too much campaigning put them at a disadvantage, well, they have the option, like Chu, of delaying their pitch for elected office until after they retire.

The upshot of all this, and I think the Movement ought to reflect on it, is that a candidate has been disqualified for showing "excessive zeal", that is to say for wanting to win a post too much. In most walks of life, "excessive zeal" is precisely what you need to demonstrate in order to stand apart from the crowd and show you are the right man or woman for a sought-after job.

More than that, I would not be in the least surprised if a man who has dedicated, what, two decades of his life to living the Olympic dream and become an out-and-out national hero as a result, were now utterly disillusioned with Olympism. The Movement ought to reflect on that as well.

And, if those lollipop claims were mistaken, I hope that those who made the mistake will find it in themselves to apologise to Chu.

Even now, the final outcome of this flawed process is not settled because another disqualified candidate - Koji Murofushi, the Japanese hammer-thrower - is also appealing his exclusion to CAS.


Following the election, it was announced that Danka Bartekova, a Slovakian skeet-shooter (with 2,295 votes), James Tomkins the Australian rower (1,802), Kirsty Coventry, the Zimbabwean swimmer (1,797) and Tony Estanguet, the French canoeist (1,779) had been voted onto the commission, although the IOC delayed their confirmation as new IOC members.

The positions of Bartekova and Tomkins have always looked secure, since they would be in the top four whether or not Chu's and Murofushi's votes were counted.

The rejection of Chu's appeal looks now to have removed any question-mark over the election of Coventry, the third-placed finisher in the official results.