Nero played fiddle whilst Rome burned, I played bridge when Wales crashed. Out of the Euros. Tuesday night. Missed the match. Saw the rather depressing goals (has there ever been a better headed goal than that? Everrrr???) but my life was in the realm of 2 Hearts rather than 2-nil.

Earlier that very same Tuesday there had been the two finest tennis matches ever played. Ish. Federer against Cilic and Murray playing Tsonga. The second of which actually delayed the start of bridge due to excessive levels of excitement and amazement produced over at Wimbledon. Murray had been 2 sets up then lost the amazing 3rd and the incredible 4th. He kind’a breezed the final set probably because Tsonga is bigger and burns more energy over the almost 4 hours required. And a shame because I really like Tsonga. And I really don’t like Murray though it must be said that the Scot is at times breathtakingly brilliant.

However, I absolutely luuuuurve Roger Federer. Who had come back from 2 sets down to win his match earlier on. Never mind, I have the Wimbledon hi-lights program on series record. I shall enjoy that later. When bridge is done, when the world is at peace. No problemo.

The BBC, who have been broadcasting Wimbledon tennis since 1347, got a bit snarled up with having two very long games played one after the other. So mid-4th set, Sue Barker announced that ‘BBC1 is now leaving Wimbledon…’ NOOOOOOO!!!!! ‘…but this match is on now on BBC2’. Thank fucking Christ. Then, later, during the 5th set, she mysteriously announced that ‘those viewers wanting to watch Masterchef should switch to BBC1 because we’re not leaving this match’. Fucking Masterchef! Who wants that when tennis is on?? Anyway, quick changes were made to accommodate the games, rescheduling on the fly, all good. Didn’t miss a point.

Much later, found the ‘Wimbledon Hilights’, pressed start to watch Federer, the greatest player of all time in his finest moment and… and… and there was some stupid tart making a stupid tart with radicchio, rocket, caramelised onion marmalade and fennel, with some loud-mouthed bald-headed geezer shouting at her about the length of her courgettis. The BBC had obviously not told Sky about the changes.

Last night I managed to miss all of the French beating the Germans. Busy.

Never mind, on Sunday there’s the feast. The dream day. Men’s tennis final followed by the Football grand finale. But I’m going to a wedding. All day. All night. Never mind I’ll set the recorder and watch Celebrity fucking bake-off when I get home.

Happy friday

A xxxx