As if football were not already disgraced enough, now accusations of match-fixing on a global scale are being investigated by Europol. This comes as no surprise to those of us who can understand the offside rule (when we can be bothered), but can't understand how anyone is still interested in a sport that seems entirely based on sulking, messing around and cheating. When players appear more talented at pirouetting before hitting the ground than they are at kicking a ball into a net, it's surely time to get them on the stage at the Royal Ballet, or on to a rugby pitch, where they'd know how to deal with a prostrate prima donna rolling around hamming up his stage death. In Uruguay, they recently banned football for 10 days to punish behaviour so bad that it culminated in a goalkeeper punching a copper and being arrested. Let's have some of that no football in Britain, please. The players can all go and moonlight in Les Misérables while they're off.
Much has been made of the pictures of Tony Blair, reclining with his chest hair out at a Chinese New Year party at the Dorchester Hotel in London last week. But more fun was the face on Cherie, at his side. Ms Booth was photographed holding up her invitation, which clearly bears the name "Mrs Tony Blair". The look on her face suggests that she was not amused. (Though Permatan Tone seems to find it quite funny.) Now, Cherie Booth, CBE, QC, did not get where she is today (from Crosby to Queen's Counsel and founder of The Cherie Blair Foundation for Women) by pretending just to be the hanger-on of some man. She's no Beyoncé. (Sorry. Mrs Carter.)