Now I’ll level with you. I tune in to The Sports Breakfast with Alan Brazil en route to work every single weekday morning. The reasons are two-fold:
1 I love sport.
2 I can’t f*cking stand the cringey banter of one Nicholas ‘Grimmy’ Grimshaw on Radio 1.
Yet while I always listen to TalkSport, I’m not really a fan of Mr Brazil. For me he’s just an arrogant old tool who rants and raves about stuff he doesn’t like while branding people “numpties” and advising he’ll be “having a few quid on Roorrry” whenever anyone is on the show talking about golf. The man takes beetroot faces and aggressive ignorance to new levels.
However on Friday I really could have pulled down his mustard farahs and kissed him tenderly on his big red spotty a*se after he talked up the chances of Alice Springs in the Falmouth Stakes at Newmarket.
I backed the Aiden O’Brien-trained filly at 6/1 that morning then watched late afternoon as Ryan Moore romped home with a bit to spare. The win netted me £150 and it was all thanks to that rotund old Govan motormouth Alan Bernard Brazil.
On Sunday we bid farewell to Euro 2016, a tournament that was rarely easy on the eye and that for most will go down in the annals as an event that was a ‘bit sh*t’.
The final in Paris did not provide the happy ending the French wanted as they fell to a 1-0 defeat in extra-time against Portugal. I was absolutely devastated as well as in late May had £25 ante-post on Antoine Griezmann to be top scorer at 9/1 and a further £26 on Griezmann to top score and France to win the tournament at 20/1. I’ve never, ever been more disappointed to win £225.
Indeed as I lay there massaging E45 cream into a finger I nearly lost in the Paris Fan Zone several weeks previously I began to rail against the injustice of it all.
This may not be politically correct but Didier Deschamps needs a swift bolo punch in the balls rather than a new contract with ‘Les Bleus’. To bring on Andre-Pierre Gignac, who looks more like a 1970s darts player than an international footballer, and leave Anthony Martial twiddling his thumbs on the bench was mistake too far. All this while instructing Paul Pogba to play solely as a defensive midfielder against one of the most negative teams in the tournament.
F*ck you Deschamps! Your birth certificate is an official apology from the condom factory.
I had my first official football bet of the 2016/17 season on Tuesday night. And ominously it was a complete disgrace.
Celtic were 1/12 shots to beat Lincoln Red Imps in the first match of their Champions League qualifying campaign. The Hoops haven’t qualified for the Champions League proper for few seasons now and with new boss Brendan Rodgers at the helm – and new boy Moussa Dembele up front – I was convinced they’d be way too much for the part-timers from Gibraltar.
I steamed into Celtic to cover a two-goal handicap then watched in horror as they went through the motions in the first half before falling behind early in the second period. Rather than lick my wounds I impulsively backed Celtic again, this time to win the match in-play at 13/10. They were absolutely sh*te for the remainder of the second period and in the end slumped to an embarrassing 1-0 defeat against a side that share their ground with every other team in their domestic league and sound like a made-up team name from Pro Evolution Soccer. No words.
Cheeky’s Punt of the Week: Hartlepool United to be promoted from League Two at 9/1 (Ladbrokes/Sky Bet)