Sport

I’ve never understood the interest in sport. Week in, week out, watching other people’s efforts in the hope of a few exciting moments of indirect pleasure. The goal posts are small, the moves are only occasionally virtuous, and belonging to the crowd matters. I see the parallel in the prevailing models for sex. If sexuality is like a creative spaceship, with the potential for traversing galaxies, let’s not use it to go to the corner shop for a white sliced loaf. Or a rugby match.