Spectator Sport: Worth celebrating

Celebrations — not just an egregious though annoyingly addictive form of mini-confectionery, but the single hottest topic in sport.

Celebrations — not just an egregious though annoyingly addictive form of mini-confectionery, but the single hottest topic in sport. This journal’s team of volunteers stationed along the touchlines of the nation’s football pitches report with sadness that nowadays schoolkids would much rather practise their goal-scoring celebrations than, say, trying to win the ball, pass it or even dribble it. Or possibly score goals.

Hence the sight of youngsters rushing to the corner flag in the wider outposts of Hackney Marshes to practise rocking their babies, or breakdancing, or shushing opposing parents with a finger to the lips. Or standing arms outstretched, eyes shut, waiting to be anointed. Well, that’s really only OK if you’re Wayne Rooney and have just scored a goal of such synapse-stunning athleticism, skill, audacity and co-ordination that it will live in the memory until, well, until you do it again.

It’s the same with rugby. You just hope that mini-rugby is not now full of chunky 12-year-olds swallow-diving over the line. But then I suppose that if they can run support lines like England’s new hero Chris Ashton, go looking for the ball like Ashton, and rely on hunger and instinct like Ashton, they can swallow dive all they want. Even if Ashton drops one in the World Cup final, children everywhere will still want to play like him.

Ashton’s had his critics, but if anything shows that sport can be fun it’s Ashton and his dive. And if it gets up the noses of his opponents, well and good. Paradoxically, though, almost the biggest roar at Twickenham last weekend came for the most undemonstrative of players, Jonny Wilkinson, brought on for the final quarter against Italy.