One should never blog while overly emotional but I am going to press on, regardless of how mortified I will be tomorrow and how moronic you will all think me. Firstly, hearty congratulations to the Italians! Secondly, WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING ZIZOU?! I truly thought the stupidest sporting thing I would see today would be Roger Federer's custom-made white blazer at Wimbledon. The Rog had been buttering my muffin since four years ago today, when he endeared himself to me with his tears upon winning the title for the first time. But when he stepped onto the court two weeks ago looking like a bartender on a P&O cruise ship, the fire in my loins faded significantly. There's no excuse for that sort of thing, unless you're auditioning for James Bond. But to be honest, my eye had already wandered by then, as I'd gone World Cup Mental and completely fallen for the lovely eyes, baldy head and twinkle toes of Zinedine Zidane. How shite then, that the undisputed winner of today's Stupid Award turned out to be Zidane himself, with that horrible headbutting of Marco Materazzi during extra time. I have never been so… fucking… gutted. Yes, I have been an unashamed bandwagon-hopper with the World Cup. Gareth always finds it hilarious how swiftly I become so passionately obsessed with sporting events, but this one was particularly all-consuming. So to see Zidane's sparkling career finish in such a moment of madness was utterly devastating. Why did you do that? Why did it have to end this way? I alternately screamed at the telly and tried not to bawl. Dudes. To see someone you idolise do something so crazy is gobsmackingly impossible to comprehend. It was like Valentino Rossi had reached over and slashed someone's tyre in the middle of a MotoGP, or Adam Gilchrist had pulled up a stump and poked a batsman up the arse for a laugh; or Thom Yorke gatecrashed a Coldplay show and whacked Chris Martin over the head with a 20 kilo bag of Fair Trade coffee. Oh hang on, that last one's just my secret fantasy. It is just such a rubbish ending to a tournament of ups and downs and downs. Though I may finally understand the offside rule, it still feels like all I gained from five weeks of football is a paler complexion, a crushing sense of disillusionment and slightly larger arse.
Rafael Nadal: outplayed; and outdressed by both Federer
AND some little boy with his top button done up.