A blow for the vuvuzela

Apparently there’s something called a vuvuzela that has caught on somewhat at the World Cup. It’s a trumpetty thing that makes a sound like a constipated goose – you may have heard it faintly in the background during some of the matches.

Anyway, it’s catching on. Sort of.

Boris Johnson, the floppy-haired Tory fop who plays at being Lord Mayor of London, has hinted that vuvuzelas might be permitted at the London Olympics. Sort of.

Johnson, who is on one of those amusing “study tours” of the World Cup, says that while he personally finds the vuvuzelas annoying he would bow to public opinion if people wanted to hear them at the Games.

Yep, the start of the men’s 100m with Usain Bolt set to become the first man under nine seconds. Silence please! Honnnnnnnnnkkkkkkkkk! False start by Bolt. Bolt disqualified. Hmmm, that could work.

Meanwhile, there will be no such nonsense at Wimbledon. “The message is not to bring them,” harrumphed a tennis drone as he devoured a bowl of strawberries and cream. “We have a list of prohibited items, including rattles and klaxons, and vuvuzelas will fall into that category so the message is not to bring them.” Pity they haven’t prohibited Cliff Richard during rain delays, roof or no roof.

A straw-hatted spokesbore for the Henley Regatta also pooh-poohed the vuvu: “We would not permit whistles, horns, trumpets, pianos, vuvuzelas, drums or any other such instrument within the enclosures or the boat tent area.” It’s not all bad news, because it means no Billy Joel.

But some people love the vuvuzela, immortalising it in song and in one of those great ESPN ads. God bless the vuvuzela and all who sail in her.

With (girl)friends like these ...

Spanish goalkeeper Iker Casillas had what’s known in the trade as a Barry Crocker against Switzerland, conceding a goal that consigned the World Cup favourites to defeat, and subsequently copping a pasting from the Spanish media.

One of the pasters was his girlfriend Sara Carbonero, otherwise known as “the world’s sexist journalist”. Ha! Whoever bestowed that title hasn’t seen The Circus crew lazing by the SBS pool in our Lee Lin Chin-designed mankinis.

Anyway, TV reporter Carbonero ripped into Casillas in an interview after the match, asking him: “How did you muck that up?”

Nice. This was despite Carbonero being blamed by other sections of the media for distracting the poor man by disporting herself in a picturesque manner behind the goals during the game. WAGs. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.

Neat segue

Well, you can’t live without them if you’re an England footballer, apparently. The poor lads have, according to London’s highly reputable Daily Star, demanded that Fabio Capello sex up the World Cup.

Not by nuding-up like Maradona has promised, of course, but by allowing their WAGs to shag them senseless in between matches.

The sex- and computer game-starved players demanded, quote unquote, “If we can’t have games, please just let us have our wives,” which is an interesting guide to their priorities.

Wayne Rooney, naturally, is taking the whole World Cup experience sans WAGs and arcade games in his stride: “It was horrible. Breakfast, train, lunch, sleep in my room, dinner, watch the games, bed.”

Anyone for tennis?

Andy Murray may be labouring under the strain of being Britain’s great pasty hope at every tennis grand slam, but if they could play all major tournaments in the streets of London, he’d be shoe-in.

The numbers game

3 – hours British golfer Lee Westwood spent flying between Memphis and Pebble Beach in a private jet bound for the US Open

48 – bottles of beer drunk in that time by Westwood and three mates

52 – cans of beer drunk by Australian cricketer David Boon en route to the Ashes in 1989

Quote of the day

“I usually go for white nails at Wimbledon. I like to stick with the integrity of the event.” – Serena Williams is such a dowdy traditionalist

Headline we’d like to read

"Vatican to allow vuvuzelas at papal audiences"