The terminally addicted/distracted/something else again among you will recognise the name of 10cc's hit, which contains the line "I don't like cricket, ah hah, I love it."
So you may be forgiven for thinking that a post about the Australian team's thrashing at the hands of South Africa is coming. You'd be wrong, but only more or less but for the cricketophobes amongst you, please bear with me.
The only sensible comment I've heard on the Test outcome was from Ian Chappell on the teev tonight where he took the long view and posited a period in the doldrums after which, all other things being more or less equal, we will bounce back. That sounds about right to me.
But what I really wanted to talk about, just a little, was the longer term effect of the Cronulla riots. You remember the photos of the good young Anglo-Saxon stock of Sutherland Shire, draped in the flag and paying into the Mussies.
More than unfortunately, I now cannot see young Australians draped similarly in the flag without ascribing a similar outlook to them. I'm sure it can't be the case, because people have been taking Australian flags to cricket matches for a long time. It's a fairly natural thing to so, I guess, for an international tournament.
But young men in Jackie Howes and a flag tied across the shoulders now just send a shiver up my spine.
Then the national anthem is played and, sure as eggs, a couple of them will put their hands on their hearts.
And that just makes me sick.
When I was growing up, you stood to attention for the anthem. If these coves had half the respect for Australia that they claim to have, they wouldn't be aping the bloody Yanks yet again.
Somehow, I'm not surprised.
Have a bloody joyous new year, youse folk.