Its a little anthropocentric (scientific word, not a new sexual orientation) to assume that our ‘world’ is the only one. There are 47 million stars, each possibly with its own planetary system. You do the maffs. I can’t (be bothered). And if you do, the answer will be ‘a shitload’ of potential for life ‘elsewhere’. Though not necessarily as we know it.

And I’ve found just such a world. A world where Spurs are top of the league. Where we didn’t lose this weekend. Where football remains a happy place. And that world is called: Wimmin’s Football.

Because yesterday Spurs women beat Manchester City’s women to go top of their league. Ok, tied top with Brighton (?), Arsenal and Manchester United, but top is top, right?? And I saw a bit on the news and it looked quite a lot like… like ‘football’, but with more bits jiggling round on the pitch, and I would say ‘more ponytails’ on view, but after watching Leeds yesterday I’m not sure about that. The football itself was… well, the winning goal was scored by the defender’s arm, but shit happens even in… in real football. And I don’t like to be in any way sexist about this, especially coming on The Weekend of Emma!, but it didn’t really look like proper, top flight football. Ok, they looked a bit like Arsenal did in their first three matches, but a bit more butch and scary.

And talking about Emma, as all British people have to do, at least once a day, every day, until Wimbledon starts next June, by order of Parliament, we need to discuss ‘the future’. Which started, for her, yesterday. Because she has instantly become the most marketable individual on the planet. She’s young, gorgeous, clever, funny, charming and a TOTAL FUCKING WINNER. Yet, although she takes her tennis seriously, doesn’t take herself too seriously at all. Which is yet more endearing. So to add to her cheque on Saturday for $2.5million, marketing experts reckon that within one month she’ll have signed contracts worth another $25mil. Possibly £25mil. Doesn’t really matter. And then, we learned yesterday, she speaks fluent Mandarin. Like, beyond ordering a meal. Almost like its a language when you don’t even want noodles. But its a language spoken by most of China’s 1.6 billion people. Ok, not all are tennis fans, I give you that, but she’s not only going to be selling tennis. She’ll be selling her soul (I know I would). And selling anything that someone coughs up enough money to get her to sell. The possibilities are limitless.

Have a delightful, back to work, Monday

A xxxx