I refer to the mindless crowds herding together to protest. Get real for a minute. Of course the way the guy died in America is terrible and should never have happened but this is part of an ongoing problem that America has and seems unable to confront and deal with. However it is an American problem.

It is not the time to have unnecessary groups or travel. There are plenty of things to protest about in Britain if you must, some very worthy, others less so but if you must, do it in a responsible manner. And what do we get? A hysterical Rent A Mob jostling each other outside No 10 Downing street! In case those morons have forgotten Boris is Prime Minister of Britain, not President of the US. It is nothing to do with him and he has plenty of things to be dealing with. Maybe, just maybe, if those people were suddenly so concerned about a death in America, a dignified social distanced protest outside the American Embassy. Interesting question. Although not strictly relevant how many of that mob were concerned enough to find out why the guy was being arrested? About 0.01% would be a pretty good figure.

Another question. Why were those people there at all on a mid week working day? Too scared of coronavirus to go back to work but happy to close contact in a mob? Or are they the social security mob with no intention of finding a job? Get back to work or get a job. Too many people with too much time on their hands.

And while we are on the subject I have to agree with David Blunkett about this silly American habit of “giving a knee”. Wrong reasons and why adopt every American fad. And finally where have you been all your life if suddenly out of the blue you discover that Black Lives Matter? I thought they always did.

Something completely different. My memory was jogged by the news an obscure TV channel is showing a re run of the 1966 World Cup. It took me back to the moment of my almost greatest betting coup. North Korea remember them? A totally unknown side who by some fluke made the finals. A team of midgets with a centre half about 4ft 11 inches tall. In a wild moment I negotiated a bet on them with the local bookie. £1 to win at odds of 1,000 to 1, £1 to reach the final, odds of 500 to 1, £1 to reach the semi finals at odds of 250 to1. Finally £1 to reach the semi finals rolled on to the finals and rolled on to a win – work the odd out yourself. You may, but probably not, remember that they scraped through their pool matches in second place to make the quarter finals. Those who had scoffed at my waste of £4, quite a tidy sum in those days, became a bit quieter. Potential disaster they drew Portugal in the quarter finals a fine side, Eusebio and Torres to name but two. No chance then said the pundits. In that era not everything else stopped and I was due to play myself in a slightly lesser fixture. Listening in the changing rooms to the radio North Korea scored in about the second minute, then they scored a second and then by a miracle a third. Three nil up – the changing room was silenced. At that moment I had to break off to lead out the team in front of a slightly smaller crowd at Workington Football Club. We played the match, a boring one all draw as I vaguely recall and as we trooped off I had visions of £250 banked and maybe more to come. Shattered dream – the final score North Korea 3 Portugal 5. Such is life and the coach broke down on the way home.