Greetings, greetings my dear friends. What a sporting weekend! Made all the sweeter by England’s winning start to the Six Nations. Actually I think Wales were better and certainly looked more threatening when they had 15 players in the pitch. But the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune favoured Martin Johnson’s men and so it is they who can still dream of the Grand Slam.

But a dream is all it will be. I don’t think anyone will stop Les Bleus this year and having seen the power of Matthieu Bastareaud at Murrayfield, the French cockerel is destined to crow more loudly than ever. Bastareaud is the fellow who caused a diplomatic incident last summer when he claimed to have been beaten up on a tour of New Zealand by a gang of men. But just when the French Prime Minister had got involved to protest on his behalf, he admitted that his facial injuries were sustained when he fell over in his hotel room in a drunken stupour. Ooops a daisy. Humble pie eaten all round and quite a lot of it by Bastareaud, who is the world’s heaviest centre at 17 stone..... not that I am ever going to tell him he looks anything other than lovely......

The opening weekend of the Six Nations dovetailed nicely with the Superbowl and prompted an interesting exchange on BBC Breakfast yesterday. Yours truly was up at the crack of sparrows (4.00am to be precise, oh my God how early is that?), to do the sport and we had a guest (Mike Carlson) on to talk about American Football and why it had never quite taken off here. It was suggested it was the stop start nature of the sport that hampered the American game, but Mike made an excellent point about rugby being very stop start now too. And he’s right.

As soon as a phase of play breaks down, there is a Supermarket Sweep style stampede onto the pitch by a phalanx of trainers and medical personnel. There are sometimes so many of them, it can look a bit farcical. I guess it is a symptom of the changing game. Bigger players, bigger hits, bigger injuries. Gone are the days when you can stagger about with blood all over your shirt like Mickey Skinner, in a manly fashion.

Still some traditions die hard and a pint at Twickenham before a Six Nations match, is and always will be one of my favourite sporting habits. It seems my new best friend Matthieu might raise a glass to that too..... Right am off to get ready for my Strictly Fitness class tonight. Honestly the things I put myself through for you........Happy Monday.

Tags: Matthieu Bastareaud, Les Bleus, Six Nations, Supermarket Sweep, Mickey Skinner, Grand Slam, Superbowl, Mike Carlson,

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So in the midst of becoming the new Paula Radcliffe, I did actually manage to get a little down time this week and cast an eye over Leeds and Tottenham in their FA Cup replay at Elland Road. I was mighty impressed with what I saw from both sides, but especially Jermain Defoe. I know Les Ferdinand said he was a man on fire this season and he certainly is. He’s up to 20 goals already and counting.

But the most pleasantly surprising aspect of his rise to prominence this year, is the fact that he is teetotal. Now as we stand in the midst of the media storm that has engulfed John Terry of late and the relentless stories about footballers stumbling out of nightclubs in a terrible state, it is refreshing indeed to hear about an England star with such unique dedication to the cause.

Defoe missed out on the World Cup four years ago by a whisker and clearly he doesn’t want history to repeat itself. I think that injury permitting he will definitely be in Capello’s squad for South Africa and hopefully he will cause mayhem out there for England on the pitch. If he keeps up this kind of form, he could well force his way into the starting line-up. But whatever happens, fair play to him for being so focused.

It got me thinking about what I could and should give up on my latest fitness fad. Chocolate springs to mind. I don’t eat tons of it, but I do like it as a treat and really what’s the point of living if you can’t eat Dairy Milk? Really? Honestly? I guess I could exist on a diet of healthy salads and vegetable, with loads of good carbs thrown in. But I know I would be so dull and really rather grumpy. However I am going to try and cut down on the sweet stuff in all its forms and see how miserable it makes me.

And just to continue this self-flagellatory theme, I went running in the rain again today and it was marvellous. That’s 10 miles on the clock and counting since Monday. Honestly I’m a machine. I thought I might celebrate with a few chocolate Celebrations. Oh bum. I can’t, can I. Never fear. I shall munch on a celery stick instead. Damn.

Tags: Jermain Defoe, John Terry, Leeds 1-3 Tottenham, Fabio Capello, Paula Radcliffe, Dairy Milk

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