Snooker

I’m not sure quite what Sir G. Boycott would have made of it, but the People’s Republic of Yorkshire was on its feet to applaud the People’s Republic of China. Kindred spirits brought together at the Crucible, Sheffield, for Zhao Xintong’s victory in the World Snooker Championship over poor Mark Williams, at 50 the oldest finalist ever in the tournament. Zhao may look too youthful to get served in the Crucible bar – though he is actually 28 – but he had the good sense to settle in Sheffield some years ago and his fluent, remorseless snooker is breathtaking. His victory means that snooker is now properly recognised not as

Of the 73,738 benighted souls who pitched up at Old Trafford on Sunday for the Manchester derby – presumably even some, mostly City supporters, from Manchester – how many reckoned they’d got value for money? This was a dire game, devoid of energy, skill and flair. The most exciting thing was probably a low-key sit-in at the end to protest at United’s seat pricing. Even the term ‘derby’ was rubbish: as far as I could see, only one player of note – City’s Phil Foden – was Mancunian. Which is still more than the number of regular starting players from Merseyside in the recent Merseyside ‘derby’. The Premier League likes

A light was on in the caravan site office so I went over to try and buy a gas canister. Come Easter the little Cornish seaside resort will be heaving. Now a stiff north wind blew in off the sea and it felt like the dregs of winter still. The site office was shut but a woman came out and said she was expecting a delivery tomorrow but she didn’t know yet how much a canister would cost. Nor did she know of anywhere open where we could get something to eat. She thought there might be a place down by the beach. Nobody had managed to get any seasonal