The BBC vs Gregg Wallace

The last time I took my wife to watch Millwall play a home game, a gentleman a few rows in front of us took grave exception to the behaviour of an opposing player and identified him, very loudly, as the author of The Critique of Pure Reason – repeatedly and with venom. Having vented his spleen, he turned to sit down and caught sight of my wife. An expression of contrition spread across his face and he said to me in a conciliatory tone: ‘I am very sorry for using such language in front of your lovely lady.’ The apology, you will note, was to me, not to my wife. Such is the arcane concept of chivalry and decent manly behaviour down The Den. I accepted his apology with a smile.

Why am I telling you this? Well, yesterday when I turned on the radio news, the third most important story was the declaration of martial law in South Korea in preparation for a third world war. The second most important story was the news that 20,000 economic migrants had arrived in this country via small boats since Labour took office – a large increase. And the top story was that a Millwall supporter had upset some women with a few ribald or coarse comments.

He did not go quite so far as Millwall fans go when they espy a female in the away end (I won’t tell you what they sing because you wouldn’t like it, but it is to the tune of ‘Cwm Rhondda’), nor even anything so brusque as the chant once directed at Paul Peschisolido, a Canadian footballer whose wife happens to be the entrepreneur Karren Brady. (‘You’re s*** and your wife’s a s***,’ since you asked.