The well spring of one's being

The high drama of England making headway in the Ashes and the start of the footie season has got the papers awash with loving defences of the functional importance of the f-word to sport. Now I know I was only chatting about the f-word the other day and here I am, with just a brief interlude for a bit of blasphemy, going on about it again. Don't blame me, I'm just telling you what's going on out there...

But as it just so happens that the history of swearing is going to be my Mastermind specialist subject, I'm delighted by news in the Telegraph that the BBC is just finishing a programme on this. Shame they didn't ask me to present it but we'll let that pass for now... The two articles linked below both explore the power and the passion of sport, and, between them, argue that the use of the f-word is not offensive but an entirely appropriate response to the communication situation. What's really interesting is that these articles are in the Times and the Telegraph, often the twin bastions of prescriptive attitudes to language and the general "declining standards, wasn't like that in my day, by jingo" hue and cry. Changing attitudes to language or just a sports journalist's leeway?

Anyway, next time I'm banned from the tennis club for hurling my racket over the fence in a torrent of (self-directed) "emotional" invective, I'll try explaining all this to the committee...

Cameras sworn in to expose a rash of expletives

You only **** when you're winning (unless you are Ponting, then you **** when you are losing)