.......I guess it serves me right.   In my last post I reasserted my uncertainty about the existence of an omnipotent being (OB.)   I almost went as far as to suggest that, given all the trouble and strife in this world, it would not surprise me to learn that this world is, in fact, the OB`s draft - the dummy run - the prototype - to sort out all the gremlins in advance of the production model arriving.

But for all of that, it may be spookily significant that nothing but bad news has come my way since my last post.   To begin with, we`ve had a hosepipe ban here in deepest Kent for a week or so due to the drought conditions we`ve experienced for the last few months.   Today it`s bucketing down with rain.   Over the weekend the cricket season started - the harbinger of summer, the sound of leather on willow, country parsons dozing on the boundary and an air of calm which only the truly beautiful game can bring to banish the mayhem of football.   And rain has stopped play.

As for football, things haven`t gone too well there either.   First our street`s hard working pacy flanker Scott ("Buzzin` six pack") Wagstaff, pictured, was sent off in Charlton`s game at Oldham on Saturday for committing the dismissable offence of slipping over on the dodgy Boundary Park pitch.  In the accidental process of falling over he inadvertently tripped up one  of the opposition players, which was treated as violent conduct by card happy referee Trevor Kettle, who this season has officiated in 19 games, shown eight red cards and an astonishing 86 yellows.  Wagstaff, it seems, was just another notch on Kettle`s holster so maybe he should just shrug his shoulders, sit out his one match ban and move on at the end of the day.  To be fair.

My beloved Saints are wobbling as they approach the finishing line in their questionable quest for promotion to the Premier League.   31,737 were at St. Mary`s to see them held to a 2-2 draw against arch rivals Portsmouth, whilst their closest challengers for promotion - Reading and West Ham - both won.   My bum is squeaking a bit as I await the outcome of today`s game at Crystal Palace.

And then there is Manchester United.   A combination of appalling refereeing decisions and gross ineptitude on the part of Manchester City seems to have handed the Premier League title to United once more.   I really don`t know why the title isn`t just handed to Manchester United at the start of each season so we don`t have to go through all this playing games nonsense.   

Some time ago, hidden in the dark recesses of this blog, I once confessed that, invoking the philosophy of Albert Camus,  the one true religion might well be football, that it was no coincidence that Matthew Le Tissier was know as Le God and that the forces of evil were to be found permanently lurking in Old Trafford, Manchester.   I`m not sure I`ve changed my mind but recent events may just confirm  my suspicion that we are living in a prototype world, where things aren`t quite right and where someone named Bubba can win the US Masters.   The OB has his (or her) work cut out sorting out this lot.