What is it with sports governing bodies that they appear to blithely believe they can ignore the wisdom of the message: "Less is more"?

As cricket's World Cup limps on interminably, amid an archipelago of apathy in the Caribbean, while we can anticipate the rugby version producing a slew of embarrassing mismatches, now that the number of participants has increased from 16 to 20, those same English and French clubs who are threatening to boycott the Heineken Cup have suddenly developed a novel wheeze.

Yes, that's right, instead of 24 combatants in the competition, they are pressing for the event to be expanded to include a "minimum" of 36 teams, which will, according to Mark McCafferty, the chief executive of Premier Rugby, generate precious new income streams for the Celtic nations.

"We should be looking to expand the Heineken Cup to 36 entrants, rising to 44 in time, split into nine pools, with a last-16 round preceding the quarter-finals," burbles McCafferty.

"The aim for the three Celtic unions should be to increase the number of their professional sides and more revenue from Europe would surely help them in that objective."

Pause for hollow laughter.

Even the most cursory inspection of this statement reveals it to be utter bunkum. Far from improving the standard, these English and French officials are acting purely out of self-interest, especially given that the only countries which would gain any semblance of enhanced representation from such a move would be those of Serge Blanco and Rob Andrew.

Anything else is specious hypocrisy, but what's worse is that the likes of Premier Rugby have witnessed what happens when tournaments are stretched beyond their original structure and simply ignored the evidence of their own eyes.

Consider, for instance, the transformation of football's Champions League from a high-octane series of jousts between giants to the annual snoozefest which it has now become.

Once, in a blessed pre-G14 period, when the sole criterion for entry was securing your national title, this could rightly be advertised as the best in Europe confronting their peers with nary a hint of mediocrity or reheated fare on the menu.

Qualification was a cherished prize, the rewards prodigious. Nowadays, though, when England are permitted to field four clubs, even in a season when their Premiership battle has developed into a completely two-horse race, there is the certain knowledge that at least a dozen of the participants in the 2007-08 reckoning will have about as much chance of making an impression as George W Bush has of understanding the climax to "Life On Mars".

Similar caveats apply to the cricketing contest currently inducing slumbers across the West Indies. In its original format, the World Cup lasted a fortnight and featured eight sides, in which light there was barely time to relish the spectacle of Ian Botham, Vivian Richards, Dennis Lillee and Co, prior to the denouement being staged and the trophy awarded.

Fast forward 30-odd years and the ICC - an organisation which should have Mr Magoo as its honorary president - has designed a formula, so mind-numbingly stultifying that even the highest paid players are rushing to condemnation. "It's definitely too long - too long for everybody," said Australia's Matthew Hayden yesterday.

"You could get into all sorts of arguments about whether the minnow sides should be involved, but that's not really the point, because they earned their places under the ICC rules. So the only people to blame for this event lasting seven weeks are the administrators and the half-empty grounds and piles of unsold tickets are their responsibility."

He's correct, of course. But will anybody listen? Not if the critique espoused by the aforementioned McCafferty is any guide. On the contrary, the English rugby authorities seem determined to orchestrate anarchy, which makes one suspect their prime motive is to expand the Heineken Cup into a tournament of 12 of their number, 12 from France and the other dozen from the Magners League and Italy.

Perhaps, in itself, this is defensible: after all, the Guinness Premiership club's owners have invested hundreds of millions of pounds in the sport since the advent of professionalism and are still in the red. But, as for the logic that such a strategy will benefit Scotland, Ireland and Wales, or that the European public will be happy to shell out ever-greater sums on watching more second-rate fixtures, let us be clear on one thing. Namely, that McCafferty and his members don't really care whom they play as long as they can hike up their profit margin.

This may sound jaundiced, and one shouldn't forget the impact which broadcasters have had in contributing to the metamorphosis of many major competitions from sprints to marathons.

Yet not even Mr Creosote's appetite was limitless. The Heineken Cup usually springs to life once the group stages have been completed, but if McCafferty has his way, it will change into a route-march, a slog of an affair, and that should be resisted.

Lest anybody doubt that, just put together two little words. "Super" and "eights" . . .