As the founder of Sports Direct and owner of Newcastle United, Mike Ashley will be used to sporting idioms, and here is one for him to ponder over the weekend: so near yet so far.

That is the critics’ reaction to Sports Direct after its public open day this week. Ashley has launched a series of initiatives to try to improve working conditions and corporate governance at Sports Direct, such as offering shop staff on zero-hours contracts the option of guaranteed hours.

But major flaws at the company remain and when the mask slipped during Sports Direct’s PR assault at the open day, Ashley showed that the fundamental problem has not changed – he has too much power.

Ashley lost his cool in the company’s annual shareholder meeting and tried to blame trade union Unite for the working conditions in Sports Direct’s warehouse. He also expressed his frustration at press coverage of the company and participated in cringeworthy joint television interviews with Sports Direct’s chairman, Keith Hellawell, turning to the former policeman for his agreement about a point he had just made to say: “Keith, yes?”. Hellawell responded with a meek “I agree”.

Hellawell’s position at Sports Direct is at the centre of the problem. He should leave the company immediately. It is unprecedented for a FTSE company to have more than half its independent shareholders vote against the re-election of the chairman.

Hellawell, we are told, tried to resign before the vote but was talked out of it by the rest of the board. This simply reinforces the perception that he does not have the power or the will to challenge Ashley, who still owns 55% of Sports Direct. The chairman is supposed to be head of the board. No one should be telling him what to do.

The charge sheet against Hellawell is emphatic. His failures include: the lack of a permanent finance director for more than two years; carrying “independent” non-executive directors who have been at the company so long they are no longer classified as independent according to the corporate governance code; and unorthodox related-party transactions with Ashley’s brother, who manages international online delivery, and the boyfriend of Ashley’s daughter, who manages Sport Direct’s property strategy. Oh, and Sports Direct has also had to give back pay to staff who received less than the minimum wage, and its share price is trading at around a third of its peak.

In this context, it is extraordinary that no heads have rolled among senior management and the board of Sports Direct. A fresh face as chairman or director could bring a new perspective to the company and at least show the world that Ashley is willing to take on new advice.

As it is, Ashley has publicly asked that Sports Direct be given time to correct its shortcomings. But with Hellawell still in place, it is difficult to believe that the company will be revolutionised. The City institutions that have spoken out against Ashley, such as Standard Life and Legal & General, rarely make such interventions and shy away from confrontations in public. The fact they aired their grievances in public – either through the media or the annual meeting – shows have they been unable to make progress behind closed doors.

Sports Direct’s shareholders must keep up the public pressure on Ashley. The tycoon has made welcome first steps in pledging to rethink zero-hours contracts and putting an employee representative on the board.

But these are symptoms of a problem rather than a problem in themselves. The real problem is that no one at Sports Direct was ensuring that high standards of employment practice and corporate governance were maintained. That job should be the chairman’s.

A year ago it was unthinkable that Ashley would take the public and journalists on a tour of Sports Direct’s warehouse. At previous AGMs Ashley would sit silently with his head in his hands before making a quick getaway by helicopter. So progress has been made – but, to use another sporting idiom, Sports Direct is still in the relegation zone.

Serenity only lasts until the next forecast at the Bank

Serenity is not usually a word associated with the Bank of England. Threadneedle Street is a place of unhurried calm, yes, but its staff are usually nervous about a possible recession or banking collapse for anyone to appear serene.

Yet the bank’s governor, Mark Carney, said he was “absolutely serene” about his warning of a possible recession after the EU referendum, even though that now seems unlikely, at least in the short term.

Questioned by Brexit-supporting MPs, Carney also rejected the idea that he overreacted when it looked like his prophecy would come true following a slew of bad economic data in July.

Look at the counterfactual, he said. Without the warnings, businesses and consumers might have found themselves sleepwalking off a cliff edge. And without an interest rate cut and an extension of the bank’s stimulus package in the wake of the Brexit vote, a recession is exactly what we might be looking forward to.

It was a performance to rank alongside his speeches earlier in the year. At each one he appeared more presidential – and, with the Treasury distracted, the only person who cared about Britain’s economy. Brexit campaigner and Tory MP Steve Baker said as much when he thanked Carney for riding to the rescue while the cabinet imploded.

This week the rate-setting committee Carney chairs will meet and no doubt agree that it has done a good job. It is expected to say that the rebound in August from the terrible July means they should wait and see before making another move.

It’s not until early November that the monetary policy committee will meet again and revise its long-term forecasts. And that brings us to Carney’s achilles heel, which is the bank’s predictions for growth, inflation and interest rates. Year-in, year-out, they have proved over-optimistic. At the beginning of the year, economists were ridiculing the bank as out of touch. If Carney misplaces his oracle and fails again to read the economic mood, his bravura performances this year could be for naught – and his serenity lost.

Formula One is in dire neeed of a mechanical overhaul

For those who think watching Formula One on television is a bore, news that the business that runs the sport is being sold for $8bn (£6bn) would have been a shock. But it was probably also a shock for the team owners and track operators struggling to balance the books.

Formula One Group looks like a consumer business that has been run too hot: think Tesco before its sales and profits slumped. It is making money for its owner but at the expensive of customers, who have become disillusioned with its offering. Eventually this has an impact on the financial performance, as it did for Tesco. TV viewing figures are stagnant, all but the biggest teams struggle to make a profit, and up-and-coming rivals, such as Formula E, are doing a better job of reaching out to a new generation of customers.

Liberty Media, the new owner, has a lot of work to do.