1993: remember, you read it here first (7): Independent on Sunday writers look ahead to a turbulent year in which they foresee scandal, revelation and controversy in Britain and around the world: Great expectations but don't bet on the lottery

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You haven't bought a ticket yet, but watch them spend the proceeds. Expect grand details of grand schemes to be built on lottery money: a museum of modern art, a national dance house. And watch panic set in as MPs fail to give the Bill an easy passage.

By midway through the year, two other lost causes will be seeking funds, the MiniDisc and Digital Compact Cassette.

David Mellor, who has spent his time since leaving the Cabinet sniping (and missing) in his Guardian column at the Royal Opera House, which he had previously helped to underfund, will be offered the job of general director at Covent Garden. He will turn it down on the grounds that it does not provide a chauffeur-driven car.

John Birt, the new Director-General of the BBC, will axe Eldorado and, if he has any sense, spend some of the money on a sequel to The Borrowers, a triumphant throwback to the BBC classic serials of the Sixties, and one of the best things the corporation has done in years.

I will watch at the Olivier Awards for someone to beat the wonderful exhibition of luvvyism at an awards ceremony last year when Vanessa Redgrave burst into tears as she thanked the stage carpenter. I look to the equally self-effacing Kenneth Branagh to keep up the standard. His tear- stained handkerchief will, incidentally, be entered for the Turner Prize.

Recession blues will see a revival of Seventies glam rock - T Rex, The Sweet, Slade et al. And you thought Abba was embarrassing?

Sky TV will belatedly acknowledge that more people watch and enjoy Italian football on Channel 4 than its own exclusive showings of the English Premier League.

Mr Murdoch will attempt to buy the rights to the Italian league, and probably to Italy.

I would love to think that next year critics will try to share the experience of the ordinary punters they write for. My first recommendation is that they sit at the front of the dress circle at the National's Olivier Theatre, where the acoustics are so bad you see a mime show.

I expect to see and hear more of Stephen Daldry - the new director of the Royal Court Theatre will rapidly fulfil the role of enfant terrible with a spark of genius - and of Jung Chang, whose family memoir cum history of 20th-century China (Wild Swans) was the most riveting and disturbing read for some time. And ageism be damned: there will be announcements of concert tours by Paul McCartney and The Rolling Stones - minus Bill Wyman.