I don’t want to talk about football. My team aren’t playing at the moment, so neither am I. That’s it. I cannot live in a loveless world. And there is no love at Spurs currently. Just what happens when a bunch of mercenaries that you delude yourself into thinking ‘love the shirt’, mainly because they’re always kissing it and, sort of, being loving towards it and to each other, decide instead that the financial implications of continuing that love may be counterproductive to their future potential earning power. So fuck ‘em all.

Instead we have so much to be happy and joyful about.

First and foremost we have the cricket and the incomparable Ben Stokes. Although there are comparisons. With Ian Botham, with Mohammad Ali, but whatever happens in the rest of this Ashes series, his name will be attached to it forever. Because the last wicket innings he played yesterday with Jack Leach was not merely the ‘stuff of legend’, not just ‘unbelievable’, but was an achievement of the absolutely impossible. I won’t bore you with a ball-by-ball account, because I didn’t see it. Not with my eyes. Just with my heart as I checked the score during the afternoon and felt the gradual deflation as our great start to the final innings reduced with each falling wicket to the seemingly impossible and the acceptance of another match lost. But Ben Stokes had other ideas. He’d started ridiculously slowly, by his somewhat audacious standards, scoring 50 in his personal slowest time ever. But that was what was needed. Calm. Sober. Solid. By the time Jack Leach came on for the last wicket, England still needed 73 to win. And Leach is no batsman, despite his score against Ireland. This was not Ireland. This was Australia. Who have the most vicious bowlers around. So Stokes first job was to keep the strike at all costs. Keep Leach away from those bowlers. That in itself takes amazing skill, understanding and discipline. But then, like the Incredible Hulk, Stokes suddenly exploded from his uncharacteristic conservative play and lashed out like he was in a one day match with 6 wickets still standing. And Stokes can hit. The Aussies missed catches, fucked up a ridiculous opportunity to run Leach out by dropping the ball, and ran out of reviews when one or two would possibly have ended the match in their favour. And then Stokes hit a four to end the Aussie’s suffering (not that we mind them suffering). And the rest is consigned to history.

The rugby was fab and then, if two days of (almost) amazing sport wasn’t enough, we went to see the new Tarantino last night. But more about that later. Gotta take a little person out to lunch. And she’s getting ready, preparing herself, beautifying, as they do.

Happy Bank Holiday Monday

A xxxx