Sorry about that - it's just me humming to myself the signature tune of a radio programme that was at one time broadcast every Saturday afternoon at five o'clock: Sports Report.
Hey, I've just discovered that the programme is still broadcast every week during the football season and has been running since 1948. It still has the original theme music - and here it is:
If my father was not away at sea, we always had to listen to this programme for the football results. My father did the pools each week and wanted to see if he had won the Treble Chance, the big prize. I think he did win lesser prizes very occasionally, but never much more than 10/6.
There was something very soothing about listening to John Webster read out the results and scores, a bit like listening to the shipping forecast. One could always tell, before he announced the score of the away team, whether the result was a home win, an away win or a draw. It was the inflection in his voice. I always wanted to hear the result of a Scottish match read out as East Fife 4, Forfar 5, but it never happened.
All that is really nothing to do with what I started out to write about: last night's toad in the hole competition. But I think I will draw a veil over that and just say it very quietly.
I was in the Brighton B team and we lost all four matches in straight games, 2 - 0.
But we enjoyed the evening, which was the main thing. And I was the star player in our team. It was the others who let me down.
Back in Pouancé and round the corner from my favourite boulangerie is a restaurant we like to visit, la Cravache d'Or (the Golden Whip). (And no, Suldog, this has nothing to do with sado-masochistic practices; it's a horsewhip. But now I come to think of it...)