Saturday, noon

It's finally here...that World Cup nonsense has finished, the waiting is over and in just a few hours, the earth will tremble at it's centre not from the resounding roar of the cannon, but the roar of Estadio Omnilife as El Tri slaughter the lambs from Ecuador.

In actual fact I speak nonsense. In footballing terms this will be just a routine friendly, however as part of the bicentenario celebrations a special edition kit will be worn and of course as someone who has become big on limited edition type sporting apparel a new quest will begin to get my grubby mitts on one.

I'm hearing only 10,000 will be sold and each has it's own number and this of course will require many many hours of sending bartering emails in atrociously written Spanish to all and sundry to seek my prize.

FUN!

I've also backed México to win and a lumpy bet it has been too. I know it's a friendly and if one wishes to dispose of ones surplus income one just has to wager on friendlies, and also this game is being played on the artificial pitch of Chivas' new stadium which none of the European based players seem happy with, but as Carlos Vela is now due to rediscover his shooting mojo I will accept the 1.65 price and to hell with it.

Beyond the realms of my life I notice that there's an amusing campaign underway for bookstore shoppers to sneakily remove copies of Tony Blair's memoirs from the politics or autobiography sections and place them on more appropriate shelving; preferably the crime sections or fantasy as it is without a shadow of a doubt the work of an incomprehensibly deluded confidence trickster. Quite alarming in fact that he was ever Prime Minister. It's like realising there was recently a burglar in your home.

I'm off to Waterstone's to engage in some mischief

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