Tonight in New York there’s a boxing match. Nothing new there. They’ve been doing it since Mohammed Ali got knocked down by Joe Frazier in Madison Square Garden. And that’s the venue for Amanda Serrano to make a title attempt against Katie Taylor, who holds not just one title but is currently as entitled as Prince Andrew was before he went for a pizza in Surbiton. Nothing new in that, boxing’s always had trouble working out who runs it, so about 17 organisations all have their own titles.

But this boxing is… is… is… for gels! Yep, two women slogging it out in the ring. With gloves on. Not white silk ones with pearls, but boxing gloves. Real ones. For punching. They don’t make ‘slapping gloves’, I checked on Amazon, so these are proper, girl boxing gloves.

I am aware that boxing has been ungendered for many years now. The Olympics is full of women beating the shit out of each other. And that’s just they gymnasts and certainly the ice-dancers. But this ‘real’. Professional. Million quid each contender. More media coverage than last week’s heavyweight men’s title fight.

And thus the ‘sport of gentlemen’ (even though they don’t really look like gentlemen when they’re doing it) has been equalitified (a new word I’ve had to make up for when a gender biased thing is brought into the post-stupid arena) and the world is a better place for it. A less discriminating world. More egalitarian.

So next Sunday there’s the first ever Men’s new triathlon, the Ironing Man competition. In which a group of geezers have to iron 14 shirts, make dinner for 8 people without making any mess and then mince to the coffee shop in very tight skirts and high heels where they have to bitch about other men for 32 minutes without stopping for breath.

It’s a lovely day, a long weekend so everything’s looking good. Nothing to cause negativity at all. Until Spurs kick off tomorrow at 2. I won’t say how ‘big’ this weekend is but suffice to say, bigger than last week’s but not quite as big as the next.

Happy Friday

A xxxx