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A friend of my son's was born in America and although he is only eight he supported the US in England's opening World Cup match. What courage! What integrity! He told me at a school fair that some other children had criticised him for his loyalties. I told him to answer back with just two letters: 'BP.' Or: 'Beep!' as my husband joked this morning. The most shocking aspect of the Fifa World Cup was the sudden appearance in football 'tradition' of the vuvuzela, a cheap plastic horn that makes a hideous noise. The first few matches we had to have the television on silent. Having been stung many times over the years, including once on the back of my tongue when a wasp beat me to a juicy orange segment, I have recently become allergic to wasps. That noise in our living room made my skin crawl. Spraying Raid at the television wasn't going to work. But now I've changed my mind. At first, the prospect of those things invading our local matches in west London seemed unimaginably horrifying. Surely  the Premier League wouldn't risk it. There can be no doubt that yummy mummies and their rich lawyer husbands will sue at the first sign of tinnitus in their little ones' shell-likes. I've been a bit anxious about our son going to his first  football match in case he comes away with the impression that racism or homophobia are acceptable under any circumstances. If the vuvuzelas drown this out, bring them on.



Gwna dda dros ddrwg, uffern ni'th ddwg

(Welsh proverb: Repay evil with good, and hell will not claim you.)