Manly Pursuits 2006

For twenty years I've been watching England cricket teams humiliated by the likes of the Chappell brothers, Allan Border and Steve Waugh, Australians so gritty they order their sandwiches with sand in. There wasn't much respite in other sports: the 53rd most populated country in the world was fourth in the medals table at the Athens Olympics, Lleyton Hewitt is a Wimbledon champion, and the Socceroos beat England 3-1 at Upton Park in 2003. And supposedly, or so the team-sheets kept telling me, these losing Englishmen were representing the nation.

In the summer of 2005, I decided I didn't need to be represented because I, in fact, am me, so I set out for Australia on the well established priniciple that if you want something doing . . .

And took it upon myself to beat the Australians, single-handedly, in any sport they cared to mention. I ended up at the heart of the problem, as I saw it, in the Sydney suburb of Manly, where I took on Australians at lawn bowls, shooting, golf, swimming, surfing, running, spectating, betting and quiz.

Not surprisingly, with the Australians fatally undermined in their heartland sporting community of Manly, England regained the Ashes. I was not awarded an MBE.