After returning from the cinema, I watched the F1. I don’t really follow motorsport, but this was the final race of the season and had big importance… Lewis Hamilton, an ENGLISHMAN, might actually win something!

All Hammo had to do was finish 5th. A piece of piss if you consider the fact he had been dominating the drivers’ championship since March. Did I mention he was English? Obviously it wasn’t going to be that easy…

Lewis Hamilton – moments before victory

There Lewis was, cruising throughout the whole race, and then, with 3 laps to go, he messes up – something to do with the wrong tyres (I’m no F1 expert!).

Everyone thinks it’s all over and the bloke from Ferrari has won. Then, with the finish-line in sight, some German in front of Hamilton stops his car, allowing Lewis to overtake, finish 5th and win the championship. What great sportsmanship! It’s also very ironic that a German helped an Englishman win something.

The best thing about today’s race was watching the Ferrari team. One second they’re celebrating a win, then they realise what’s happened…

I caught the tail-end of the Formula 1 this morning. That English wonder-kid who everyone is going on about, Lewis Hamilton, won the race. Apparently, if he does anything but crash his car into a duck pond in the final race of the season, he will become world champion. However, Lewis is English, and ‘English’ and ‘World Champion’ don’t exactly go together. You just know it’s going to go wrong…

Hamilton came very close to winning the championship last year, but in typical English fashion, did the F1 equivalent of David Beckham missing a penalty and lost at the final hurdle. I bet the basement of his house is full of bottles of champagne (and ice buckets), never opened. Still, if he never wins anything, at least he’ll have some vintage bubbly he can sell on eBay.

Lewis Hamilton’s basement

It must be difficult for young Lewis. Not only is he travelling the world driving fast cars, but he has to turn out every week for Arsenal and even play for the England national football team. Sure, he goes under his alias ‘Theo Walcott’, but have you ever seen them in the same room together?

Still, good luck for the final race, Hammo. You may be the underdog (by default – being English), but we all believe in you… ahem.

Good luck, Theo!

After the Ricky Hatton shambles, McClaren’s men losing to Croatia, and the rugby team going out of some competition; I have come to the conclusion that England are shit at all sports, and always will be.

In fact, if an Englishman had to face a monkey in a game of “paper/scissors/stone”, the monkey would win – as long as it wasn’t born in the UK.

At least us English are good at one thing – wars. Had our forefathers not been so brave and courageous, we would be speaking German right now; and Sparkster.net would be Sparkster.de.

Oh well. The fat Manc ended up on his arse. What a shame. Not really surprised; us English never win anything. Unlucky Hatton – better luck next time, etc, etc…

Time to get back to bed.

Please note the timestamp on my blog. I have surfaced at this crazy time to watch the Ricky Hatton – Floyd Mayweather fight. Two boxers, who in my hazy state, I originally believed to be Ricky and Floyd, are currently scrapping. It looks boring, and had this been the main event, I would have gone back to bed.

I feel weird, and as if I should be asleep rather than writing on my blog. I am finding it hard to concentrate – it is like I am typing while badly drunk. This is obviously down to surfacing in the middle of the night, something I don’t think I have ever done before. The only reason I am blogging, is because, come the daytime, if I don’t see the timestamp, I probably won’t believe it myself that I got up at 4am!

They say Ricky Hatton has got a difficult task tonight; I think getting up at 4am is bad enough in itself!

If you notice any spelling/grammar errors in this blog, please put it down to the fact I am more than half asleep.