Well, that wasn’t too bad then. The nameless sense of dread that seizes you at the start of each football season — you know, too many overtattooed men chanting En-ger-land, too many managers bitching at refs and each other, too many twerps earning too much money — all dissipated in a few minutes of sublime passing by Arsenal. And Wayne Rooney’s start promised so much for the rest of the season, as he sets out his stall as a true World Cup winner for England. This helped to make up for Rafa Benitez’s return to form, moaning as usual, and seemingly stuck in denial of the real problem — that he’ll miss the brilliance of Xabi Alonso.
It was a weekend of staggering sporting revelations. The beautiful, charming and extravagantly gifted Jessica Ennis coming home for richly deserved gold in the heptathlon at Berlin. The awesome Usain Bolt, mouthing ‘I’m ready… are you ready?’ to the cameras before demolishing the world 100 metres record. Tiger Woods revealing that even he can mess up some straightforward putting, and deciding, just as I was investing rather heavily, that this PGA was to be the one Major which he wouldn’t win after leading at the start of the last day.
The most shocking (and farcical) has been the detritus from the very nasty ‘bloodgate’ scandal at Harlequins rugby club. The ’Quins winger Tom Williams was taken off at the end of a Heineken Cup game against Leinster for a blood injury, allowing a recognised kicker on for a possible winning drop goal. Except Williams didn’t have a blood injury. He’d hidden a capsule of fake theatrical blood in his sock, popped it in his mouth, and was led off with ‘blood’ spewing everywhere.
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