Don't celebrate these Wimbledon winners - it's a shocking look for tennis that they failed drugs tests and they never should have been there, writes OLIVER HOLT

It was bitterly amusing to hear some of the euphemisms employed by a gaggle of former tennis players and broadcasters to counter the idea that the new Wimbledon men’s singles champion, Jannik Sinner, shouldn’t even have been playing in the tournament, let alone winning it.

Poor, poor Sinner, who twice tested positive for the anabolic steroid clostebol last year, escaped with a paltry three-month ban in February, which meant, conveniently, he did not miss a single Grand Slam event.

And after he beat Carlos Alcaraz in four sets in the men’s final at the All England Club on Sunday, we were told that, as well as admiring his tennis, we should admire his fortitude for fighting back from the ban. Some, laughably, talked about the ‘ordeal’ he had faced.

He had ‘endured’ a tough ‘battle’, we were told. He was presented very much as a victim rather than someone who had served a doping ban. He was presented as a martyr. An avenging hero.

Sometimes, to be at Wimbledon over the last fortnight as Sinner was greeted with rapturous applause and short memories, it felt as if Basil Fawlty was treading the walkways of the All England Club, walking up to spectators and whispering conspiratorially: ‘Don’t mention the doping’.

Sadly for the sport, it appears more and more that tennis has given up on anti-doping. The result is that this year’s Wimbledon will go down as the tournament where both men’s and women’s singles winners have served short doping bans that many believe ought to have been longer and should have ruled them out of competing in SW19.

Sinner won the men’s title and the women’s singles tournament was a triumph for Iga Swiatek, who blew away her opponent Amanda Anisimova 6-0, 6-0 in Saturday’s final. Swiatek was banned for just one month late last year after she tested positive for a heart medication, trimetazidine (TMZ).

She explained that her doping violation was caused by a contaminated supply of the non-prescription medication melatonin, which she uses to help with jet lag and sleep issues.

The danger for tennis, and for wider sport, is that the idea of a deterrent is being lost when it comes to anti-doping. Sinner and Swiatek received lenient bans for their offences and a few months later they were Wimbledon champions.

It is an understatement to say it was not a good look for tennis. The sport may be desperate for a new rivalry between Sinner and Alcaraz to try to replace the gap left by the departures of Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal and, soon, Novak Djokovic, but the truth is the haste of Sinner’s return has tarnished that rivalry.

Sinner claimed clostebol had got into his system courtesy of a chain of events that began when his physio, Giacomo Naldi, reached into a treatment bag and cut his hand on a scalpel.

Naldi treated the cut with an over-the-counter spray called Trofodermin that was provided by Sinner’s fitness trainer, Umberto Ferrara. Trofodermin contains clostebol, a steroid that can build muscle mass and enhance athletic performance.

Somehow, Naldi and Ferrara managed to miss the fact that Trofodermin carries a warning on it that says ‘doping’ and has a circle with a red line on it. It’s so obvious it looks like the Ghostbusters logo. Naldi and Ferrara, by the way, no longer work for Sinner.

The excuse put forward by Sinner was that when Naldi massaged him with his cut finger, the clostebol found its way into Sinner’s system. It is a convoluted story. The World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA), however, believed it.

WADA's general counsel Ross Wenzel said ‘this was a case that was a million miles away from doping’ but many others, including Djokovic and Tim Henman, felt uncomfortable with the length of the ban handed out.

The result was what happened at Wimbledon this weekend: two players with prior doping violations, two players who many feel should still have been serving bans, won the most prestigious tennis tournament in the world.

The picture of them dancing together at the Champions’ Ball on Sunday evening was one of many low points in sport’s war on doping. It was a picture that should have been captioned: Surrender.

Infantino's latest nonsense gets the reaction it deserved

I got out of Lord’s after stumps on Sunday evening and tried to find somewhere to watch the Club World Cup final.

Someone had told me they might be showing it on a big screen that had been erected in the little amphitheatre by the side of the Grand Union Canal.

I arrived there and saw a crowd of spectators but they were showing the England v Wales group game in St Gallen at the Women’s Euros. Lauren Hemp had just put England 3-0 up. Sarina Wiegman and her team were heading into the quarter-finals.

I found a bar in Paddington that was showing the Chelsea-PSG game from New Jersey just in time to see Cole Palmer’s brilliant pass to set up Joao Pedro for Chelsea’s third goal. They were 3-0 up, too. I looked around for Chelsea fans. The place was practically empty.

In fact, they turned the game off at half-time. I got to a pub on the west side of Hyde Park in time for the start of the second half. It was busy. A few tourists. The game on a couple of televisions. But not much interest. Not the kind of atmosphere you’d get in there for a Premier League game. Or a Champions League tie.

I’m told some of the pubs in Earl’s Court were full of Chelsea supporters. And elsewhere, too, I’m sure, but when I walked back to my hotel after the match, there were no fireworks exploding, no blaring of car horns, no celebrations. The Club World Cup had faded into the background already.

I agree with those who say there should be a place for a tournament like this, a club tournament that challenges our narrow Euro-centric view of the game and gives a platform to teams from South America, Asia, Africa and Oceania as well.

But it was also obvious from the start that this tournament was, like so many of FIFA president Gianni Infantino’s big ideas, malformed.

Despite the huge claims made on its behalf, it always felt, from a distance, more like one of those friendly tournaments such as the Premier League’s Summer Series.

It never quite rose above that challenge to its credibility, nor above the feeling that coverage of the club game has reached saturation, partly because the reasons for the presence of many of its participants were opaque. There was too big a lag between what they had achieved and their place in the tournament.

If Liverpool had been in it, as Premier League winners, or Barcelona, as La Liga winners, that would have helped. I understand the convoluted reasons for Chelsea’s admission but their presence, as a team that only sneaked into the Premier League’s top five on the last day of last season, seemed particularly puzzling. They were the winners the tournament deserved.

I feel sorry for Palace - except for one thing

I feel desperately sorry for Crystal Palace supporters in the wake of UEFA's decision to demote them from the Europa League to the Conference League because of a row over multi-club ownership.

I feel sorry for their chairman, Steve Parish, too, though I find it hard to forget the time he likened lower-league clubs to corner shops who could expect no help from the supermarkets that are Premier League clubs.

It doesn’t feel great when the big boys put their boot on your throat, does it.