What’s the worst thing that can happen in the world? Other than Arsenal winning the league, obviously? Plane crashes by suicidal depressives? Invasions by Jihadi extremists? Ebola coming to a neighbourhood near you soon?? Or the Aussies winning a sporting event?

Other than the French winning football or rugby, the Aussies are the next dread nation to win things. Because they’re smug. Some may say they have a right to be, because they’re good at sport. I don’t say that. I say they’re smug first, good at sports second. If they weren’t smug about sports they’d just find something else. And they won the cricket world cup on the weekend. A weekend almost devoid of sporting distractions as the football was ‘off’ because of the International Qualifiers and there was nothing but the Head of God goal by Harry Kane. Plus Gareth Bale royally sticking two fingers up to the whingeing Madridistas by scoring twice for Wales to show everyone that he still CAN do it, but not necessarily for Real Madrid at the moment, even though they ‘stole’ him from Spurs for a poxy 86 million quid.

So they won the cricket. In Melbourne. So allegations of match-fixing, of corruption and umpiring bias are rife. Though only in my house. Everyone else has no problem with any of it.

But what is amazing is that they played New Zealand in the final. New Zealand. A tiny country which lives next door to Australia and has a population of about 84. Yet they have produced the world’s undisputed best rugby teams for the past 50 years, and now they reach number 2 in cricket. They also win the sheep-shearing world cup every year, or four, or whenever they have such a thing. If they ever have such a thing. But this is a massive achievement. India, the world’s most cricket-obsessed nation has a population of over a billion, all dressed in white and ready to bat. Half of them are even called ‘Bhatt’, just in case you doubted their cricketing credentials. Pakistan is big and cricket-mad, shit-loads of people, though since Imran Kahn retired to marry his Goldsmith, enter politics, get divorced, marry again and cause havoc in his beloved nation, they haven’t done shit. Even England, and we invented the bloody game (bit like football, then…) and we were abysmal. Though its only what we used to call ‘1-day’ cricket, now ’50 overs’, not the real, mind-numbing, goes-on-for-frikkin’-weeks, test cricket.

My tennis was even rained off yesterday and that hardly ever happens. Except when it does. And when it does you need a more ‘indoor’ pursuit. Something drier. So we went and test drove some cars. Pretending Mel wants to change her little Fiat. Which is really the prettiest piece of shoddy mechanics ever built. And this is what we found out, on our ‘Clarkson’ day.

That the Mercedes garage in Temple Fortune serves the best coffee of any main dealership. That Audi in Whetstone has the prettiest receptionists, but the tea is very sub-standard. And that Mini garages are busier than all the others put together.

Ahhhh, happy days,

A xxxx