I'm sure that England getting into the final of The Stupid Game has upsides. In the deathless terms used by public administrators, I expect that it will create jobs and provide business opportunities.
But the downsides far outweigh them. We will have to put up with a week of tedious chinless inbreeds lighting each others farts and singing their vile songs. Any regular readers of this blog will know that I'm not intolerant of the sexuality of others, but I find the charmless closet bestiality of Rugby Union tasteless at the best of times.
I feel sorry for the countries that actually have a tradition of playing and liking the game. I understand that some of the upside-down countries are quite good at it and it is played in schools there. I've even met one antipodean a few weeks ago who actually knew the rules and wasn't just making them up to look clever.
But in this country, thirty years ago, it would have been unthinkable for any decent school to play it. The police and the undertaker would have had to be called every time then, and I doubt if anything has changed since. That is how things should be.
It's fine for Irish protestants and the sheepshaggers of other nations, I suppose. But it's un-English, and it's a shame that we will have to put up with a week-long charade in which people who should know better pretend otherwise.
On more serious matters, The Trees are now only one point behind the leaders with a game in hand. But this weekend's triumph was over Cheltenham Town.
Did you know that there is a football team in Cheltenham at all? Until recently, I didn't.
I hope this post doesn't offend anyone who doesn't deserve it. People who support Cheltenham Town, for example.