High life | 12 July 2008

I’m afraid that Pug’s Club ‘Turd of the Year’ award went unanimously to the ghastly Andy Murray, he of the centre court primal screams and primate fist pumping. Perhaps his mother, who looks straight out of central casting of a Hollywood stage mum, and then some, should file his teeth down a bit and make him look less like Dracula. Better yet, he should be forced to watch Federer in action and learn a thing or two about behaviour on court (100 hours of videos, and then 100 more). I know the hucksters who now run sport require announcers to be cheerleaders, but praising someone for acting like a bloodthirsty mullah extorting the faithful to kill infidels — and on Wimbledon’s centre court to boot — is simply pathetic. Dear old Dan Maskell, where are you now that we really need you? (My word, this is intolerable.)

Sport can at times resemble poetry.