Why do you have to watch last Big Brother?

The Peterborough Evening Telegraph - - World Cup -

“IT’S the great­est show on earth and you’re go­ing to cover it.”

The edi­tor of this news­pa­per could hardly have made it any clearer. I’m off to the World Cup!

Mean­while upon re­lay­ing the mes­sage to my mis­sus, she ap­pears con­fused as to why a sports jour­nal­ist is go­ing to be re­port­ing on the last-ever Big Brother. Women, eh?

Any­way, with that lit­tle bit of con­fu­sion cleared up, such grand-sound­ing sta­dia as Royal Bafo­keng Sports Palace, Kings Park and Soc­cer City will make a nice change from Ch­est­nut Av­enue, Lead­ing Drove and the other de­lights of the lo­cal foot­ball scene.

Or so I thought – be­cause just like one of those scratch­cards that land on the door­mat promis­ing big prizes only for you to win a pen, this was too good to be true.

It ap­pears money is tighter at Tele­graph Tow­ers than the Trea­sury, hence why the clos­est I’ll be get­ting to South Africa is be­ing stuck on my sofa down Sugar Way.

My job, it now seems, is still to cover the World Cup, but from the com­fort of my own home.

At least I don’t have to sit through an 11-and-a-half hour flight and tread care­fully to avoid end­ing up eye­ball-to-eye­ball with a big beastie (al­though any­one who goes out in Peter­bor­ough will ap­pre­ci­ate the lat­ter is still a pos­si­bil­ity!)

But with cush­ions plumped, cupboards stocked and fridge full (of soft drinks, of course), I’m ready for the ac­tion to be­gin to­day.

A galaxy of mu­si­cal stars should en­sure the tour­na­ment gets off to a rous­ing start, al­though those re­spon­si­ble for book­ing R Kelly and over­look­ing the tal­ents of lo­cal foot­balling song­sters, The Brays, have some ex­plain­ing to do!

But that is just a mi­nor er­ror. What could re­ally be bet­ter than a

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