Euro 2016 Competition
Breaking News

This little page is reserved for Breaking News and Comment on the competition as and when my enthusiasm comes:

16th Feb: Website ported to new server. Why?

24th May: Competition launch. Why?

25th May: Ross Cusack first man into the competition, thereby winning the early bird bonus prize. Quack.

26th May - 5th June: A few old competition dependables break cover and show their hands. Equally a few big beasts are conspicuously absent. And there's no bigger absent competition beast than Spocky. Maybe he's still researching the form. Maybe he's changed his email address and is in blissful ignorance. Or maybe, just maybe, being a man of solid, reasoned and articulately-voiced principles he's elected silent non-participation this year as his most eloquent protest at Sepp Blatter's recently-revealed £10million bonus, and/or cyber-bullying. We salute the sacrifice. Watch this space though.

6th June: A coordinated mass entry comes in from 60% of the Scitech Antwerp office. A quiet morning out there lads? They are clearly recognising that that dodgy Group E of death may lead to limited enjoyment in the latter stages and that some competition solace might therefore be required. Also, and get this, Michael Frain breaks cover! Silent for over a year, but any lingering hope of a level playing field in the traditional anagram competition is now surely extinguished. The phrase that pays will be announced in due course, to be followed closely no doubt by amusing ditties a-plenty for us from Michael, and a sharp dip in profits for Atkins.

8th June: Would you believe it? Unprecedented demand to get into the competition ahead of last night's midnight deadline caused the website to crash excluding hundreds of thousands of poor unfortunate prediction addicts. Never mind though, a personal intervention from the Prime Minister has ensured the entry deadline has been extended just so the website can crash again at 7.59pm on Friday. I'm struggling alas to get the master spreadsheet updated with everyone's data but will endeavour to get it posted up before the big kick off so the traditional tutting can begin on time. I think we're about 60 entrants so far and they are still winging in. However I must report some bad news. No Spocky. Perhaps this is brinkmanship of the highest order. Perhaps his ZX Spectrum has finally crashed. Perhaps he has simply forgotten. Whichever way, it's devastating news. Black armbands will be issued to all competition participants by email on Friday morning and everyone is urged to participate wherever they happen to be in their own personal minute's clap exactly 15 minutes into the France-Romania 0-0 draw in memory of Derby County's last year as champions of England (19.75 - clever eh?). To start the competition on such a low ebb is disappointing, but we must resolve to soldier on.

9th June: SPOCKY BREAKS COVER! Would you believe it? Genuine concern was growing in the organiser's mind when in it suddenly winged. Spocky's entry form arrived complete with a short essay of reasoned political philosophy, a cogent and compelling argument support by facts, insight and rational development. Well it's all relative isn't it. The main thing is that there's no need for that minute's clap now, so tomorrow night's dinner party might be a tad less embarrassing now. I'd still keep that explanation handy for later use though.

10th June: The late entries continue to come in as the organiser tries to remember how the spreadsheet worked two years ago. Things not helped by the ludicrous new 24 team format. Thanks Monsieur Platini. Everyone's scores are however finally posted up on the Entries page, so the low level abuse can start when desired.

And finally we're off! A late strike-magnifique by Payet robs the few brave draw-mongers of their rightful inheritance. It could be a long competition now. Seventeen prediction enthusiasts did however pin their donkey tails in the right place, Neil Thompson taking formal top spot courtesy of having the highest FIFA ranking.

11th June: So to the first proper day. The best part of the Switzerland match was when that cameraman got bruised eyebrows as a wild shot went straight down his lens. After that, Gareth Bale used telekinesis to make the Slovakia keeper jump out the way of a straight one whilst England suffered a late Russian sucker-punch, both on and off the pitch. In the competition proper Alex Triccas tricks his way to the top with an impressive 30-point Lou Reed, ahead of Giles Smith and Chris Herbert tracking closely.

12th June: As Norn Ireland fail to keep their plucky recent form going, the same is true for Alex Triccas who plummets Southwards. Perfect Days for Richard Daniells and competition stalwart Rhoda Miles lift them in to contention but it's Chis Herbert out in front, his 26 on the day matched by Neil Thompson, Andrew Foggo, Drew Millin, John Ellis, Karen Herbert, deep breath, Tom Clayton, Terry Bennett and, get this..... Spocky! Annoying, but grudging credit where grudging credit's due.

13th June: Giles Smith grabs top spot courtesy of 22 points, the day's maximum haul shared by Roger Frampton, Rachel Nugent and David Jackson. Giles has in fact correctly predicted the result of all 10 matches so far, including four Red 10s. Impressive stuff indeed, but don't worry everyone the second phase of the competition will sort him out. Spocky proves that cream rises after all by falling back to 18th, whilst Scitech Send's undisputed football guru Sue Overend further consolidates the Senders mini-league top spot. In the Ant Twerps stakes David Garcia takes the lead, helped by predicting Belgium's demise to the Italians. Don't expect to be involved in much office conversation tomorrow David. A day's total of 2 points earns notoriety of a sort for Matt Holder and Steve Bell. Note that the competition is still awaiting Richard Scorer's predictions (assuming the empty spreadsheet sent in wasn't meant) as well as those from the leader of Ray's Ragbag himself, Mr Charlton (assuming the invisible email sent in wasn't meant).

14th June: Giles Smith's proud record is left in tatters but on a quirky day that had most competitors groping for the Valium, damage is limited and he still maintains top spot. Big movers on the day are Lee Henderson (well likely to move more than namesake Jordan this week anyway), competition stalwart Kevin West, competition wordsmith Michael Frain and competition newbie Matt Ewens who all somehow eked out Red 10s from in amongst the chaos.

Aside from all that nonsense though it's time for some proper sport, to wit the optional - though traditional - anagram competition. All you have to do to achieve internet acclaim as well as looks of sympathy is to produce a rearrangement of the letters from the phrase that pays (using all letters mind, no sneaky cheats) that is sufficiently witty, sparkling and/or topical to raise a glimmer from the judges. This year's phrase is:

Keep calm. I expect Lord Hodgson of Wembley to bring us joy.

Send your efforts to the usual feedback address of football@whitewey.co.uk and if deemed fit for publication just sit back and await the royalties. Good luck to one and all, you deserve to retire.

15th June: Russia's humbling by Slovakia wrong-foots many but not the likes of luminaries Simon Harriss, Jens Dekeyser, Geoff Pike and Alex Triccas, the latter following up with a further two maximums that propel him majestically back to the summit with Sue Overend tucked in behind. Biggest riser of the day is however Richard Scorer whose completed prediction spreadsheet (rather than the previously submitted empty husk) is finally received. Forensic examination, carbon dating etc indeed proves this to have been completed prior to the tournament start and therefore we welcome Richard warmly to joint 51st place. Alas this move rather points up Matt Holder's role as the current Competition Charlie, much to the relief of Ian Maylin.

Meanwhile, barely had the ink dried on this year's anagram phrase than in winged the first offering from Lord Michael of Frain, namely:

GLOOMY, PLACID, FOXY GERBIL JETS HOT PUKE ON DECEMBER SNOW

As ever, an interesting insight into a disturbed state of mind. Further damning evidence swiftly followed in the form of:

JOCKS FILMING WET GROUP SEX PLY HOT COED, ENABLED BY ROMEO

Mmmm. Michael has shown the way. Your response is awaited.

16th June: Gareth Bale's free kick Vulcan Mind Meld is deployed again this time on the hapless Joe Hart who is powerless against the synaptic pattern displacement and 1-0 it is. A scrappy Vardy party-starter seemed to be bringing joy to the 1-1 merchants until Daniel Sturridge's late poke smuggled a win for England. One to suffer is Alex Triccas who is bundled off the competition ball as Giles Smith and Sue Overend lock horns in his vacated top spot. Just off the pace is a mass of experienced Levred Scout big guns forming up a big wing in readiness, Terry Bennett's 16 points on the day really getting his shoulder into it. Fortunately there are sufficient hopeless sharks in the Levred ranks to dilute any expertise and consequently they are only third in the prestigious team game behind Ray's Ragbag, who are doing very nicely thank you without Ray, and the popular Green Army! For those unsure about the team game nonsense, I don't intend to go through it all again, just look here. Other 16-point big movers on the day include Andrew Foggo, Dave Beale, Malcolm Clayton, Tom Clayton and Jenny Burgess whilst the likes of Rob Maddock, Chris Staples and Spocky (yes!) are also big movers after scoring zero points all day. Just saying.

In wings the Daily Frain of:

COME TO WHITBY COD EXPO, LIKE MRS JELLY O'PEG-BAG. NO REFUNDS.

As you can see he's off to a flyer, but I'm sure there are some other cerebral types amongst us shapening their pencils even as we speak.

17th June: Drew Millin's patience snaps and he kicks for the line, Andrew Woodland slip-streaming into second. Winner on the day John Ellis's 26 points allow him to fulfil his life's ambition of 30th place, meanwhile Steve Bell is whistling innocently and nursing rather more modest ambitions after his dayus horribilis. Congratulations should be given to the 24 point crew comprising Philip Hornby, Rachel Nugent and... Spocky. Just saying.

Mr Frain is up to his old tricks again firstly reflecting on the American presidential race with:

JOKE: XENOPHOBIC TRUMP DECOYS TELLY, WEDS GOLF BAG IN ROME

Followed by an accurate one-line summation of the England-Wales game:

COXCOMB KEEPER HOWLER. PLOY. FLYING SUBS JOIN. NETTED! GO MAD.

Absolutely brilliant work Michael, stick that in your pipe Robbie Savage. But what's this? A challenge to Michael's wordy monopoly is received from none other than Scitech Antwerper Pieter De Bonte who expertly enters the foreign-tongued fray with something pertaining to recent Belgium FC line-up dilemmas:

WHY FORCE LONG CON BLOKE MOUSA DEMBELE TO REST? DIP**** PIG! X J

Good work Pieter! We look forward to seeing what the rest of the Antwerp office can produce (lunch times only please lads).

18th June: A difficult day for many players who shared Ronaldo's tears of disappointment in missing the open goals available. The parting of the Red Seas ahead allows Richard Daniells and Andrew Woodland to assume shared top spot. The accompanying self-congratulatory email chirp from Mr Woodland may signal the arrival of a new competition villain in Spocky's stead, we'll keep an eye on that one. Despite Mrs W being 85 positions behind we still know who will be doing the washing up tonight Andrew. Big mover of the day is Lee Henderson whose 26 points plucks him from obscurity to the pressure-pot of joint 4th spot. Decent shifts also put in by David Foggo, Geoff Pike, Oscar Robinson and Rob Maddock whilst at the other end of the performance scale, Big John O takes his initial a little too literally with Dave Beale graciously taking accompanying honours.

One other point of interest - in the "Last Person to Score a Red 10" Donkey Stakes, there were vital results for Matthew Burgess, Mike Cuin, Rob Maddock and Brecht Maenhoudt who can each now breathe a huge sigh of relief hoping no one had noticed, and indeed add their derisive digits to the fingers pointing at Jack Clayton and Matt Holder the only two sharks left in contention. We'll see how this one plays out, if indeed it does.

19th June: Well I never. Mr Woodland's negative no-goals-on-the-day prediction is richly rewarded with a 12 points matched only by husband and wife team David and Karen Herbert who also got to the same destination but by different routes, perhaps a metaphor for modern married life. With others near the top faltering, a 10 point lead at the top for Mr W. appears to be giving a mis-placed validation of his confidence at this, the half way point of the proceedings.

To other matters. The keen-eyed amongst you may have noticed today's arrival in the table of one Ray Charlton, rudely barging into the coveted position 76. How so? Well when I came to enter the received predictions at the start of the tournament Ray, a long time player of the game, had failed to present his own credentials despite having forwarded numerous entries from his Ragbag of associates. To cut a long story short, just prior to all the football commencing Ray went to Scotland for his daughter's wedding without taking his laptop, and upon return after an extended break found his competition entry "stuck in the outbox", which then consequently arrived with me today following his first boot-up in 10 days. Or so the story goes.

For those that don't know, Ray is a doppelganger for Dr. Gordon, the father in the1970's children's TV favourite The Adventures of Black Beauty (one for the teenagers). Now as I'm sure we all remember, that father was a beacon of virtue, a paragon of honest decency, dare I say it the very embodiment of moral rectitude. That's why TISWAS was such a shock. Alas I fear now that the striking physical resemblance between Ray and Dr Gordon may have blinded me to the reality of the situation.

Let me explain. Ray's spreadsheet was, like any other late entrant, sent off for analytical testing. But this was as a simple formality, a procedure to be gone through, a mere box-ticking exercise. Or so we thought. Alas it is my sad duty to report that the tests have revealed that very spreadsheet to contain a suspicious isotope, which, if confirmed by the B sample, would indicate that Ray's England-Wales result was changed to 2-2 after the final whistle, thereby "earning" him an unwarranted 2 competition points.

We've had our problems in the past, but nothing on a scale such as this.

I hope against hope that there is an honest mistake here. Rather like in the episode when Dr Gordon was arrested and clapped in leg-irons by the Peelers, only for Black Beauty (Beauty for short) to save the day by deducing who really burned down the cottage and leading Vicky to the evidence, thereby enabling her to save her father in the nick of time from further stretching on the rack over a hot brazier. Now I have always assumed that episode to be a lazy rip-off of The Railway Children by desperate script-writers running short of inspiration after 48 episodes (surely the Doctor could never really be suspected, could he?). Now I simply hope and pray that that episode was indeed true and furthermore that it can be re-enacted once more with the terrible finger of suspicion currently pointing full square at Ray likewise being proven to be misplaced, and that we too can get home in time for a high-tea from the house-keeper and a wrap-up moral before the theme tune kicks in.

In short, Ray's in for now but if the lads from WADA find anything he'll be out again quicker than a Ronaldo excuse.

20th June: As Bony M once said "Oh, those Russians". And those English. Few people called the Welsh demolition of the Soviet Bear nor indeed the evening's hapless English stasis but those that did were richly rewarded for their guesswork, Carl Van Geysel for example rising 18 places to 12th following his day's best score of 14 points. Russ Cusack (or is it Cossack?) backed Wales to bag three but his hopes of a Russian consolation were scuppered by 3-1 also in fact being Jack Clayton's prediction, and let's face it he's never going to get a Red 10. At the sharp end of the table, 12 points also enable Rhoda Miles to cut Andrew "2 points" Woodland's lead to a still-handy 8. With Kevin West's respectable 10 points elevating him to joint 3rd, there's currently a near-monopoly of Levred Scouts in the big money positions. There'll be some guy ropes let down tonight no doubt.

To other matters. The keen-eyed amongst you may have noticed today's arrival in the table of one Ben Warren, rudely barging into the coveted position 81. How so? Totally my fault I'm afraid, a bout of Inbox Myopia Syndrome during the original computation process, only discovered by Ray following his return yesterday as he tried to get some order into his Ragbag's shambolic performance thus far. Curiously Ben himself didn't seem to have noticed; he's just been having a great time regardless.

Well you can tell the weekend is over as, back on company time, Michael Frain offers up no less than three anagrams for our collective delectation. Firstly we have:

OMGG! PIXY LOTT FONDLED MEEK CHERUBIC BOY-SOPRANO JEWELS

Now I'm no libel lawyer (no really) but I do know that as long as I now say the word "allegedly" I'm in the clear on this, and not set for an extended spell of spud-bashing at Her Majesty's convenience. Allegedly.

Secondly we have:

WOMEN OBJECT PROLIX COMEDY GOLD EH? PINKO LEFTY A. BURGESS.

At first glance this looks worthy of the capitals bestowed upon it. But when you consider that a Burgess is just "an inhabitant of a town or borough with full rights of citizenship" and also the totally misplaced use of the word "Prolix" then this one really doesn't stand up to any form of scrutiny. I'm afraid it's a must do better Michael. Fortunately he does with his third topical offering which mixes politics with, er, politics:

COSY BOOM-RAT PUNK GELDORF'S DEMO OBJECT : I EXPEL NIGEL. WHY?

Great stuff today Michael (generally). We're all still waiting for any other brave souls to follow Pieter De Bonte's lead and put their head above the Anagram Parapet using just the following simple phrase for inspiration:

Keep calm. I expect Lord Hodgson of Wembley to bring us joy.

Go on, give it a go.

21st June: Well what a day. A simmering Carl Van Geysel has finally had enough. Whilst others are content to play tippy-tappy in midfield, he predicts Croatia's 2-1 drubbing of Spain and barges straight into the midst of the cosy Levred cartel at the top with all the social decorum of Romelu Lukaku chasing down a hopeful up-field punt. The Levred Scouts respond cycling-team style with Andrew Woodland graciously peeling off to let Kevin West (24pts) take up the pace into the head-winds. Or was it a puncture? Tom Clayton, Ross Cossack and Vid Brownlee earn a respectable 22 points and decent jumps up the table.

22nd June: Another topsy-turvy time on the turf results in a generally low-scoring day, the yo-yoing Alex Triccas enjoying a 20 point up-swing together with Wal Beale who is finally roused into action by the thought of being lapped by her brother atop the Levred peloton. At the bottom there's no such recovery for the Steve Bell bone-shaker; he can't wait for the random stage of the competition to kick in so he can rely on Brownian Motion to make a better fist of things than he has thus far. But the main news of the day of course is that Matt Holder has finally bagged a Red 10, correctly predicting a 1-0 Belgium victory over Sweden and thereby proving that a stopped clock is indeed right twice a day, or at least once per group phase. No sooner is this proved however than it is disproved again by the realisation that Jack Clayton is still awaiting his first flush of Red 10 pride. The Donkey Ears are in the post Jack.

23rd June: After the completion of the Group Stage we now have a day or two off to allow us to draw breath in preparation for the knock-out phase histrionics. But what on earth happens now I hear you muse. Well the competition continues into the knockout phase of course. Now obviously there's a bit of confusion around - eg "I had Romania to win Group A and predicted them to be playing the Ukraine, my Group C runners-up in the so-called round of 16. Of course I know now that it's Switzerland v Poland, alright Smart Alec did you do any better, and I'm devastated that I'll now have no interest in Saturday's bully-off at the Stade Geoffroy-Guichard, what am I to do?". Well cast aside those negative thoughts and buck yourself up, you can still go to the competition ball and indeed enjoy the thrill once more of 10 competition points evaporating courtesy of a last minute deflected competition own goal. How it works is that your prediction for what you thought was Romania v Ukraine will be used instead in the computational process for the Switzerland v Poland clash. Simples. Maybe not so simples I hear you shout petulantly, I get it, but I've got a low attention span, how on earth do I calculate which team I should be cheering on in which match on which day in which stadium, it's just not good enough. Well hold that thought now. I know it's a right pain requiring a bit of mouse clicking, right scrolling and tutting, but all you have to do is download the spreadsheet of everyone's scores and then find your 2nd round predictions tabulated thus telling you what you should be gunning for in each match going forward. Simples after all. Please note that this spreadsheet will be updated for the subsequent rounds as well to really spoon-feed things to you all the way to the bitter end.

Moving on, alas I must confirm to all those who, like me, are now only tuning in to see the word-play contributions from Michael Frain that there have been no further offerings proffered since his sudden invitation to visit the HR Director's office on Monday afternoon.

2nd July: I must firstly apologise for the unscheduled recent break in the service. My attention has been diverted elsewhere of late, as I've been getting into a Sky Box Set^® I've just discovered. Rather unimaginatively it's simply called "The News". Apparently it's been going quite a while (I think this is its 15th series, or "season" in modern TV parlance) but I think they've recently changed the script writers or something to jazz it up a bit and at the moment anyway it's first rate entertainment. For those who don't know it's a sort of mock fly-on-the-wall documentary not unlike erstwhile favourite The Office with all sorts of similar goings-on, but this time set in the 19th Century in an apocalyptic imaginary kingdom called "Great Britain". I think it's produced by the same team that did The Thick of It, but whilst that still had some plausibility this is a somewhat too far fetched to endure for long. Quite entertaining nonetheless, why don't you check it out? You can always turn it over if you don't like it.

To matters on the grass, and Roy's Boys have selflessly stiffened the resolve of 3 million petition-signing backsliders by proving that England really can survive outside Europe. Alas however the old UK communications problem has arisen again, with the Welsh battalions appearing to have received scrabbled orders. When Colonel Coleman's Adjutant finally pulls his finger out and turns his Lord and Master's telescope round the right way I'm sure things will be sorted out fine, but in the meantime the poor Belgium team have become what might euphemistically be termed the "collateral damage" in the affair. I thought I'd get the use of the word euphemistically in quick before it gets banned.

On another front, if you like me thought that Michael Frain had, that fateful Monday last, been presented with a cardboard box of his desk contents and was now spending his time practising twirls to Donna Summer's Hot Stuff in the queue down at the Neasden Job Centre in preparation for the big reveal, then think again. Lazarus-like he rises (from a position of continued full employment) back once more unto the fray with a typically acerbic smorgasbord of footballing commentary and worrying imagery, succinctly lamenting the state of the national game thus....

The Flop:

MEDIOCRE GLORY - FOP JACK W LUMPS IT LONG BEYOND BOX. SEETHE.

The Turn:

POLL PUN... FOOTY BREXIT. ICEMEN MOCK SHAGGED JOWLED BORE.

The River:

OL’ ROY’S TUMESCENCE WHIPPED BY BJORK IN LATEX. ‘FLOG ME GOOD’.

Fantastic stuff yes, but thank goodness we're not playing the 8 card poker variant otherwise I'd be closed down faster than you can say The Cincinnati Kid. Clearly that spell in the Competition Cooler seems not to have dulled Michael's grey matter any. Can we expect a Welsh dragon or two to be cut down to size in due course? Time alone will tell.

5th July: I have clearly been neglecting my duties on the competition commentary front of late, so let's try to rectify things now. When I left you on 22nd June I seemed to have been extolling Alex Triccas's brief flirtation with form when clearly I should have been bigging up the performance of competition old hand Kevin West in wrapping up top spot at the end of the group phase. Well done Kevin! This achievement is certainly worthy of something, and I think that something is called pity. Clearly a person able to leverage sufficient reserves of skill, judgment and footballing knowledge to take top spot at the end of the known fixture list is far too logic-bound to have a prayer in the run-in where the fluky chancers of this world traditionally come to the fore and carpe diem. Just ask the lad Martin Wakley. At the end of the 2014 World Cup group stages he was 14 points clear of the pack; by the time Germany went off with the spoils he was 20 points South of Sam Varga. So plaudits of a sort can indeed be proffered to Mr West, certain in the knowledge that they are being but lent and not for keeps. Sure enough my prophecy has come to pass (funny that) and he's currently back down in 9th and with a negative outlook.

So who is the lucky lizard benefitting most from the recasting of the competition die? Well save for a brief top-spot stop-over for competition stalwart Rhoda Miles, the main exponent of the necessary second phase numerical nuancing is none other than competition bastion Dave Herbert. It might be looking good for Dave at the moment resplendent atop the table as he is, but there's still time for him to pull a Devon Loch so keep the faith Steve Bell, it could still be you.

PS Jack Clayton - still no Red 10.

6th July: Alas we must wait a little longer for Ronaldo's tears as the great Welsh adventure comes to an end. Like everyone else you've no doubt been scrabbling around in recent days for the vaguest of connections to the principality to piggy-back in on things in true glory-hunter style. For me Great Uncle Dyfed, for a few short days spoken of with rising pride, will now alas revert once more to being referred to within family circles only in the same hushed tones as previously employed ever since the unfortunate incident in the Llandudno Sainsbury's in 1979 when, to cut a long story short, the sudden simultaneous catastrophic failure of both his leather trouser belt and Y-Front elastic was ultimately put down to the sonic energy vibrations produced by the intersection of three Ley lines evidently coincident at the very meat counter queuing point concerned with no charges pressed, they could do that in those days. And my arrangement of daffodils and leeks on the mantelpiece will now be returned respectively to next door's garden and the food waste caddy bin, and, the dream ended, life will once more return to its dull former self.

The 2-0 Welsh reverse also hits Dave Herbert hard allowing the chasing pack of baying wolves to close in and it really is too close to call at the top now, Lizzie Nugent being the main beneficiary of the day. I think you'll find it a Pyrrhic victory though Lizzie - don't expect that Severn Bridge Toll Booth barrier to open in a hurry next time you want to leave Wales no matter how much money you shovel in the bucket.

The really big news is however that the really big dream is still alive. Yes, Nani's out-stretched boot at the end of a training-ground move robbed Jack Clayton of what was, at 1-0, briefly looking like it could be a belated blush-buster.... but alas not. We're nearly there now lad, hold your nerve.

7th July: One word - Lee Henderson. With Dave Herbert seemingly spluttering like a Toyota on the last lap at Le Mans, all that earlier legwork apparently for nothing, Lee's 4 points from the travesty of justice that was the France win over Germany allow him to draw him level at the top, rightfully ahead in fact on alphabetic considerations had my macros been good enough, timing his run for maximum heartbreak.

But wait...! Ant Twerp champion Carl Van Gysel also enters the fray, flying in undetected low under the radar a bit like the Mosquito squadron in that war film, or was that because they were made of wood, possibly set to cause even greater heartache at the death. In the closest finish for at least two years there are even glory hopes for Rhoda Miles, Lizzie Nugent, Philip Hornby and Richard Daniells. But I can at last confirm that Steve Bell is alas now mathematically out of the reckoning.

In the Red 10 stakes, the magic score Jack C has jinxed is 3-1 to France, a score curiously snapped by none other than the exalted company of Carl Van G, Lizzie Nugent and Philip Hornby (as well as the somewhat less exalted company of David Jackson, Mary Nugent, David Foggo and Shayan Mir). Interesting indeed. My money's on Lee.

Meanwhile Michael Frain passes judgement on the Welsh demise, casually reinforcing national stereotypes thus:

PICKLED WELSH JOURNEYMEN MOBS GO APE, FORCIBLY GOT DETOX

Is there no end to this man's inventive badinage? After this Sunday, probably yes.

10th July: So not only do Portugal under their new manager Christiano Ronaldo take the spoils but more importantly perhaps so indeed does Lee Henderson, a vital two points eking him ahead of Dave Herbert and Carl Van Gysel in the final reckoning. Many congratulations to Lee and also to Jack Clayton for his very special achievement too. Do check back soon for Michael Frain's final pronouncement on things......

12th July: Alas no Michael Frain final pronouncement on things. Instead he stays curled up by the fire like a Springer Spaniel that knows it's brought home a dozen grouse whilst the rest of the pack have mustered but a single effort, saying basically why should I bother anymore, it's not like I ever get to eat grouse, no matter how hard I try it's still just Pedigree Chum, you get all the glory for loosening off the odd blunderbus whilst I have to do the real spade work.