I DON’T particularly like sports involving running or striking spherical objects so Wimbledon and the Olympics are unlikely to be showing from my TV set.
Real sports fans, however, will no doubt be watching and recording every last second of this summer’s feast of dashing around and hitting balls.
But there is a sizeable number of fair-weather fans who suddenly become the greatest sports enthusiasts of all time as soon as the tarpaulins roll off the Wimbledon courts.
They’re the type that moan when domestic soccer is on the box but become ardent England fans when it’s time for the World Cup.
When any other tennis competition is in progress they couldn’t care less, but come Wimbledon they’re instantly authorities on the sport.
They’re the sort who last picked up a racquet at school. On the other hand, they’ve picked up plenty of strawberries while shouting, “come on, Tim!”, probably long after Henman retired from professional tennis.
I’m fairly consistent in my disregard for sport although I’ll watch major football – or ‘kick-net’ as I call it – tournaments if I’ve nothing better to do.
While confined to the sofa following a big shoulder operation, Euro 2012 made a pleasant distraction.
And though I’ve absorbed quite a bit of kick-net knowledge by osmosis I haven’t professed to knowing much about footie since I was a stupid teenager.
There’s nothing wrong with being a part-time sports aficionado.
I can understand the appeal of tennis among non sports fans. It’s an easy game to follow with no more than four people playing at once.
A lot of people, who otherwise have no interest in sports, seem to like the atmosphere of the big events.
But if you’ve seldom expressed an interest in sport don’t get stroppy when someone tries to change the TV channel on the rare occasion when you’re watching it.