I’m closely following the American election… stuff. Closely. Every day a new state votes for… something, and then Trump and Hilary both win and the confetti flows and the champagne fizzes and we all hug and celebrate. Then we do it again tomorrow. In a different state.

I can’t claim to understand how it works. Not sure the Yanks can either. But once they’ve actually ended this season of ‘pure theatre produced to sell tv advertising’ (well why else would it drag on for-everrrrrrr?) I’m sure they’ll let us know who’ll be fighting out for the actual presidency.

Politics is all about numbers. And the system used to produce the eventual presidential candidates has more numbers than a physics degree from Harvard. There are so many contests, so many delegates, so many percentages, its bewildering. Especially as I don’t really care. Its not my problem anyway, I’m British. But it must give the pundits over there hours and hours of analysis, projections, flow charts, holograms and all the shit that you get come any election time anywhere. And its probably a great opportunity for sales of haemorrhoid creams during the commercial breaks. Chevrolet trucks. M&Ms. Supersize sugar-laden drinks that over here get taxed ‘prohibitively’.

Yesterday it was Ohio that got to vote. And Trump didn’t win. No, the Republican vote was won by the governor of that state, John Kasich. Who I didn’t know existed, such has been his massive influence in the process thus far, until I opened today’s paper. Well done John. He didn’t shout about sending Mexicans back to Mexico. And Muslims back to, errr, Muslim-land. He didn’t threaten to punch people in the face. He doesn’t want to reduce women to either silence or rape-victim status. He doesn’t want to rid ‘merica of the rest of the Soux nation; just in case. He’s no Donald Trump.

But John Kasich is now my hero. He may even become the Republican presidential candidate yet. Though for that to happen Trump would actually have to die. Or get deported to Syria.

I have another hero too today. His name is Arsene Wenger. Yes, you read that correctly. Because in all the French bastard’s 28 years and 47,000 post-match interviews, I have never before heard him gracious in defeat. He’s either gracious in victory (we call that ‘gloating’ round here, Arsene) or he’s horrible and the worst loser in the world, moaning about how his team were cheated. But last night, after the Barcelona somewhat inevitable defeat, he was positively glowing about the match. His team performed well, which they did, but were beaten by, let’s face it, the best team in the world. Who could argue with that? Only Bayern Munich, I reckon, only Bayern.

Happy Thursday

A xxxx