So, Andy Murray is out of Wimbledon. The UK papers are whining pathetically. 'Isn't it a shame he's out...' they say. I've got news for all you media types. I'm the only one not sad that he's out. This is for two reasons. First, I don't really care about Tennis. Henman leaving Wimbledon without leaving the bus he arrived in. Or getting off the bus, them realising he has absolutely no chance at all of getting past the first round and banging it all on the head there and then. If I had to hit a little yellow bag of air with an overly expensive carbon-fibre stick, I'd go fishing for puffer fish. In the warm. On a boat somewhere. With a cold cider. The other reason I don't care Murray's out is that he decided, being Scottish, and therefore the mortal enemy of anyone who is NOT Scottish, that he would not support England in the World Cup. Reminds me of a headline the [I]Sun[/I] ran a few years ago:[I]Up Yours Delors[/I]. Substitute [i]Delors[/i] for [i]Tosser[/i] and you have an extremely accurate reflection of the real feelings towards Murray which the E-N-G-L-I-S-H (not allowed to say the 'E-word' as Scottish New Labour under Gordon Brown have just banned the word for being too nationalistic) actually feel. England, on the other hand, would have done well had it not been for a crazy Argentinian referee. Bet you anything you like he's had a word with Brown and His Tonyness, and next week takes charge of sod all in Westminster, except a few committees debating pointless debates about whether global warming exists and whether the English were right to sink the Belgrano, and all on £150,000 a year and four stately homes. Oh joy. That's all we need: another tosser playing crocquet. Fishing anyone?