'I am Markos Aurelios Asklepiades, also called Hermodoros, senior temple warden of the great god Sarapis, chief priest of the Universal Athletic Guild, Guild president for life, Director of the Imperial Baths; I am a citizen of Alexandria, Hermopolis and Puteoli; a member of the City Council of Naples, Elis and Athens; and also a citizen and member of the Council of many other cities. I was a periodos victor in the pankration. I was undefeated, I was never thrown from the wrestling ring, I never made an appeal. I won all of the contests I ever entered; I never had to challenge a decision, nor did anyone ever dare to challenge one of my victories; I never drew a contest or deserted a contest or refused a fight, nor did I ever miss any competition or win by imperial favour, nor were any of my victories in contests which had to be re-run; instead I was crowned in all of the contests I ever entered in the wrestling ring itself, having come through all of the preliminary tests of eligibility beforehand. I competed in Italy and in Greece and in Asia, winning all of the contests listed here: I won the pankration of the Olympics in Pisa in the 240th Olympiad [AD 181], the Pythia at Delphi, the Isthmia twice, the Nemean games twice (on the second occasion all my rivals pulled out), the 'Shield games' of Hera in Argos, the Capitolia in Rome twice, the Eusebia at Puteoli twice (on the second occasion all my rivals pulled out after the second lot-drawing), the Sebasta at Naples twice (on the second occasion all my rivals pulled out after the second lot-drawing), the Aktia in Nikopolis twice (on the second occasion all my rivals...). In all I competed for six years, but withdrew from competition at the age of 25, because of the dangers and jealousies I encountered. After I had been in retirement for some time I was forced to compete in the Olympic festival of my home city of Alexandria in the sixth Alexandrian Olympiad and I won the pankration there.'

So Wrote Markos Aurelios Asklepiades in an inscription on a statue of Markos Aurelios Asklepiades in Rome. It provides a vivid demonstration that sportsmen's capacity for self-promotion is as old as the seven hills of Rome. It also suggests that the makers of the heavily flogged Rome (BBC2, Wednesdays) might have missed a trick by focusing quite so heavily on the sex and entirely ignoring the athletics.

The inscription is doubly remarkable. First, it hints at the extent of athletic festivals at the time. 'There were probably between 300 or 400 in existence, some on a four-year basis, but many yearly,' says Dr Jason Konig, author of Athletics and Literature in the Roman Empire. 'It is clear that the athletics programme was enormous and very big business.'

Second, the range of citizenships Asklepiades was granted illustrates the breadth of interest. 'National identity is a fairly modern concept,' says Konig. 'The kind of identity that mattered then was city identity. And if a citizen won a Olympic medal he would be rewarded with enormous amounts of money and they would even knock down the city walls for the triumphal victory parade.'

Asklepiades was so fearsome at pankration - a mixture of wrestling and boxing, a bit like kick boxing - that there are tales of opponents who ran screaming from the ring the moment the undefeated heavyweight pankration champion of the ancient world removed his cloak. Even Richard Dunn waited for the bell to ring before capitulating against Ali.

Cities were forever trying to tempt star pankrationers away from each other. There was, in effect, a prototype transfer market and where there's a transfer market... 'I wouldn't be a bit surprised if there were agents,' says Konig. 'But there is no record of them existing. Maybe they just dropped out of the picture.' Will anyone remember Pini Zahavi in the fifth millennium?

It was certainly a lucrative business. 'At the Olympics they would receive a garland of leaves, as a symbol of the amateur ideal,' says Konig. 'But if you look closely it is clear they received enormous pensions from their cities.' Which is certainly a more dignified way of doing things than appearing in a series of lame adverts.

Not that many of the athletes were motivated by money, for most of them came from wealthy backgrounds. Asklepiades' father was a famous athlete and, like Frank Lampard senior sending Frank Lampard junior to public school, he used his wealth to enlist his son at the gymnasium, which was the main centre for higher education and the main source of athletes.

For him fame was the spur. Self-advertisement was very important in the ancient world. You had to do your own product placement. And frankly a statue is more likely to linger in the memory than an interview with Parky.

Not that Asklepiades didn't give anything back. On retirement, he preceded the path trod by Trevor Brooking and Sebastian Coe and burdened himself with the thankless task that is sports politics. He ended up as president of the Athletic Guild, which, says Konig, was almost like a union for athletes.

It was empire-wide and incredibly powerful and there are inscriptions recording imperial dispensations to the Athletic Guild, granting them exemption from tax. Not only were the pensions hugely generous, they were tax-free. Something Gordon Taylor or Gary Neville have yet to achieve.

Asklepiades' period of dominance coincided with a golden age for pankration during which the Emperor Elagabalus was so fond of the sport that he took one of the participants, Aurelius Zoticus, as a lover. The emperor, like Tracey Emin, preferred his men well-hung and Zoticus fitted the bill - comfortably or, perhaps, uncomfortably - until a rival gave him a drug that rendered him impotent.

To be fair to the makers of Rome it should be admitted that these events took place in 200AD. But, as their researchers must have known, Julius Caesar, a huge fan of the big gladiatorial spectacle, also took an interest in more cerebral activity. Suetonius records that the games Caesar held to celebrate his victory over Pompey included, alongside the wild-beast match-ups and full-scale re-enactments of land and naval battles, three days of athletics.

The process accelerated under Emperor Augustus when, says Konig: 'There was a huge resurgence of Greek culture, of which athletics was a major part. Knowing about Greek culture was quite prestigious. The Romans brought in the culture of many of the territories they conquered and Rome was a cultural melting pot.'

Asklepiades retired early, due to 'dangers and jealousies', only many years later to come back and snatch another Olympic gold. All these years on, he still has the statues to prove it. Which is more than can be said for another noted athlete, Theagenes. He was so successful that a fellow competitor used to sneak into the temple and mutter threats and imprecations against his rival's idol. One day the jealous man went too far and succeeded in toppling the marble edifice - and being crushed to death.

As was the custom, the offending statue of Theagenes was brought to court, failed to enter a plea, was found guilty of murder and punished by drowning - a trial that in more recent times might have provided a ratings smash for Court TV. And a myth that might have inspired Joe Bugner. Famously described as looking like a Greek statue, and having as many moves, could it have been Bugner's fight-plan to absorb all the taunts Ali could throw at him before reaching his tipping point and cleverly falling on the stunned champion to record a TKO?