I just turned on the tv to see what rugby was playing, decided against the Argentina vs Namibia game on the grounds that I really don’t give a shit and was about to turn off when just a quick channel flick showed me that the Russian Grand Prix was about to start. And I can honestly say that other than on the news, I’ve never seen a Grand Prix start. And what happened was; a load of cars lined up and then the traffic light changed and they all went off. Which is different from street driving because when the light changes there the tosser at the front is inevitably sending a text message so needs hooting before he realises that he has an obligation to FUCKING MOVE OFF.

Nico Rosberg wasn’t sending a text. Its very hard in those gloves, so he moved off quite smartly. But they kind’a look really slow. Like they’re bluffing and don’t want to drive away too fast in case someone thinks they’re cheating. They don’t exactly burn rubber, which is what I’d do. Which, in turn, is probably why they didn’t ask me to race.

On the second corner there was a minor collision. But of course when your car is made of something like paper (ok, maybe Aluminium, but its not very strong) even a minor collision has a major consequence. Bits fall off. Tyres burst. The safety car came on, you can tell because its actually a real car, not an engine on wheels with wings attached like all the others. And by the time the safety car went off, they’d swept the track, all was well again, I was pretty much hooked on watching little red and black cars drive round and round and round and round…

Power down the tv. Its the only way. The Grand Prix is hypnotic. You actually start to care about the 2 hundreths of a second gap between the Ferrari and the Red Bull. And I really don’t need another ‘thing’ to watch on tv. I have football. I have the rugby, I have Wimbledon. I don’t need something that calls itself a sport but doesn’t really have the necessary requirement in my mind to fulfil that claim.

Where’s the ball? Sweating just because you’re encased head to toe in a fire-retardant suit is not the same as sweating because you’ve just run 25 yards with a rugby ball under your arm and three 19 stone forwards hanging off your neck. Otherwise sun-bathing could be called a sport.

Is darts a sport? Its competitive but no-one does any running. Or rowing. Swimming. Movement. In fact darts players in the most part are incapable of movement beyond an outstretched arm. Throw a dart, reel in a pint. Game over.

The rugby yesterday between Wales and Australia was definitely a sport. Of the purest kind. Mano-a-mano stuff where most of the manos ended up at best bruised and bleeding, at worst limping off to hospital. But it was incredible. Simply incredible.

So even though England are no more (beating Uruguay 60-3 really proved nothing) I’m ready for more rugby. Grand Prix? I don’t think so.

Happy Sunday, be careful what you watch.

A xxxx