Just before we start, I wish to complain to the management. Raphael, Esther’s baby, has started teething in the last couple of weeks, and, while he is by no means in constant discomfort, and is still his usual sunny, smiling self a lot of the time (see below for photographic evidence), nevertheless, when it hurts, it clearly does hurt.

Now, it seems to me that, by this stage in human evolution, what is clearly a design wrinkle should have been sorted out by the manufacturer. Why has no Mark II model been launched? Where is the software upgrade? This late in the game we should be well over such teething troubles (Oh! Good heavens! These really are teething troubles.)

Having got that off my chest, I’ve checked back, and it is now, incredibly, over 10 months since I last posted about sport, so it seems to me high time to rectify that. My thoughts have, understandably, been turning to sport, what with a British triumph at the US Open Golf championship two weeks ago, a revitalized England’s hugely entertaining victory (indeed whitewash) over New Zealand in the cricket Test series, and Wimbledon tennis starting this week.

As it happens, those are the three sports I want to talk about today, because they have all been in the news recently and not, it must be said, in a very positive way. Let’s start with golf. Earlier this month, a new professional golf tour financed by the Saudi Arabian Public Investment Fund (PIF) held its inaugural tournament.

Saudi Arabia, through its PIF, has also been investing heavily in other sports – football, cycling, wrestling, boxing, Formula 1 – but it is fair to say that by and large these investments have benefitted the sportsmen and women while also benefitting, or at least not harming, their sports. However, the LIV golf tour is qualitatively different from all of these other initiatives. It seems to be threatening not just to shake up the PGA, but possibly to attempt to replace the PGA as the major force in world golf. Its only weapon, as always, is an obscene amount of money. Here’s what the PGA Tour’s commissioner had to say, when announcing a lucrative new series of PGA events:

“Let me be clear, I am not naive. If this is an arms race and if the only weapons here are dollar bills, the PGA Tour can’t compete. The PGA Tour, an American institution, can’t compete with a foreign monarchy that is spending billions of dollars in attempt to buy the game of golf. We welcome good, healthy competition. The LIV Saudi golf league is not that. It’s an irrational threat; one not concerned with the return on investment or true growth of the game.”

The Saudis have been tempting the world’s top golfers with a dual enticement. First is, of course, the money. This comes in two mouth-watering packages. There is the $255 million of prize money split between this year’s 8 LIV events (which, in itself, represents some $10 million more at each event than the PGA currently offers for its prestige events).

Then there is the appearance money. Dustin Johnson (world ranked 16) and Phil Mickelson (84) reportedly signed 4-year contracts worth $125 million each. Tiger Woods reportedly turned down a deal worth close to $1 billion. Even allowing for the fact that this would not quite be doubling Woods’ net worth, it is still a serious sum of money. However, it is certainly true that few, if any, of the players ‘bought’ by LIV actually needed the money.

The second enticement – and it is quite possible that for at least some of the players this was the more tempting – is the reduced workload. A professional golfer who plays the circuit spends a huge amount of his time on the road, living in hotel rooms and, if he makes the cut in a tournament, flying on to another destination on Monday. The entire LIV schedule is 8 tournaments in 2022, rising to 14 events in 2024. In addition, each event is played over 54 holes, or 3 rounds, as opposed to the 4 rounds of PGA tournaments.

Furthermore, each round has a shotgun start, meaning that each threesome starts its round at a different hole and all threesomes start at the same time. In PGA tournaments, players can find that they are drawn to tee off very early in the morning, or, conversely, that they finish their round only in the evening. In all, the LIV schedule is much less demanding than the PGA schedule.

Of course, the catch is that what these men are doing is, to a degree, selling their soul. They are putting themselves into situations where, in response to questions from the media about the Saudis’ human rights record, they say things like what Greg Norman said, speaking of the assassination of journalist and dissident Jamal Khashoggi: “Look, we’ve all made mistakes, and you just want to learn by those mistakes and how you can correct them going forward.”

Having watched some of the initial tournament (available free of charge on a YouTube channel, in stark contrast to the closely guarded screening rights for PGA tournaments), I can say that I found all of the tweaking and innovations detracted from my enjoyment. With all 48 players starting simultaneously, it was impossible to get a sense of either the course’s character or the flow of any individual player’s round.

The coverage, with a huge number of cameras, was disjointed, jumping all over the course all the time. With the (LIV-employed) commentators’ feverishly attempting to whip up enthusiasm, the whole event was a shameless self-promotion, and the televising of the PGA’s genuinely thrilling US Open tournament a couple of weeks later was the most eloquent rebuttal.

Turning now to cricket, I must admit that, despite initial reservations, I have been almost won over by the limited overs format. While nothing will ever replace the multi-faceted and labyrinthine unfolding over 5 days of a Test match, I can enjoy a 50-over international. T20 (20 overs) is a bit bang-crash for me, especially with the fireworks, cheerleaders and blasting music of the IPL, the Indian League.

Then, last year, England launched The Hundred (20% shorter than T20 and faster flowing) with its sacrilegious tampering with over lengths, and my blood boiled. Now, I have discovered that since 2017 there has been another new, even shorter, format: T10, with games lasting 90 minutes, or approximately 1/20^th of the length of a test match. This is ADHD cricket, and I want nothing to do with it!

I have also, over the years, had to suffer people tampering with tennis. The rot really started when the tie break was introduced, initially at the US Open in 1970. However, the latest development has nothing to do with tie breaks. The Association of Tennis Professionals (ATP) rulebook states: “Players shall not receive coaching during a tournament match. Communications of any kind, audible or visible, between a player and a coach may be construed as coaching.”

The Women’s Tennis Association (WTA) has, for the last couple of years, allowed coaching other than at Grand Slam tournaments, The issue came to the forefront at the 2018 U.S. Open, when Serena Williams’ coach, Patrick Mouratoglou, acknowledged trying to send her a signal during the final. The umpire penalised Williams, who reacted very strongly to the penalty. Also, in the Australian Open semi-final this year, Stefanos Tsitsipas was penalised for a coaching violation by his father, and failed to win a single game after the penalty.

The fact is that hand signals and other clandestine coaching are used all the time during Grand Slam tournaments, but are only very, very rarely penalised, and there is now a growing movement to legalise what is being practised anyway. It has now been announced that, at this year’s US Open, coaching will be allowed in both women’s and men’s matches. The announcement included the following statement: “In addition to ensuring consistency across the sport for the benefit of players and fans, the trial aims to create additional points of intrigue and insight to enhance the fan experience”.

You won’t be surprised to hear that I’m opposed, for a couple of reasons. First, this will not ensure consistency. Top players travel with a permanent coach. Players lower down the pecking order cannot afford that luxury. However, that is not my major objection. There is something dramatic about seeing a player, between games, sitting at the umpire’s chair, wrestling alone with his or her inner demons.

I can still remember Arthur Ashe, in the 1975 Wimbledon final, meditating at his chair, eyes closed, head back, and beating brash, extrovert, wonderful Jimmy Connors with his deliberate, ‘safe’, play, taking the pace off the ball. He certainly did not need any coach.

Other players read notes for inspiration (‘Watch the ball.’ ‘Run down every ball.’ ‘Have fun.’) or cut themselves off from the distractions of the crowd by covering their head with their towel. Pete Sampras, in his final Wimbledon final, read a letter from his wife; Jim Courier once read a novel! I think that watching the isolated player is all the intrigue and insight I need to enhance my fan experience, thank you very much!

And now, as promised, a smiling Raphael, who seems blissfully unaware that he will probably grow up in a world where tennis matches consist of 5 sudden death points, cricket matches involve one ball per batsman per innings, and golfers play just one hole, for $10 million per shot. I also offer you a rather more serious Tao, who may be starting to realise how sport is, tweak by needless tweak, changing for the worse.