Anyone but Murray
Wimbledon is a time for over-priced strawberries and cream and watching Andy Murray practicing for a gurning competition.
A grimace here, a petulant sulk there, and that just about sums up British tennis' last great hope.
I call him Brat Boy and I'm not about to change my mind.
"Anyone but Murray" is the mantra for Wimbledon 2011.
I was riveted to his first round game with Spain's Daniel Gimeno-Traver, ranked 56th in the world, until he started winning.
No 4 seed Murray, who could not be bothered to shave, lost the first set.
Then he bounced back and, although it ended in a decisive victory for the Scot, I was still rooting for the Spaniard.
A betrayal? An unforgivable act of disloyalty on my part? Probably.
A random observation: why don't contestants ever acknowledge the ball boys or the boys and girls who they throw sweaty towels at? A little thank-you would go a long way, please.