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Boston will you please just bally well naff off and stop winning. Given that it's baseball and their opponents are from Tampa Bay and the LA Dodgers were the team I had a financial interest in and they have now been eliminated, one may wonder why I'm so loathe to see the Red Sox winning.

My need for them to lose is three fold. I don't want to give young Paul any money, I don't like Boston Red Sox because of my New York Yankees affiliation and I don't like the city of Boston. as a whole. But why Rich, why do you so loathe the city of Boston? Why?

Well my reasons are four fold. First of all I find the huge percentage of the city's population who pretend to be Irish most ridiculous. Most of them couldn't point to Ireland on a map and have an even more tenuous link to Ireland than the Irish football team.

Secondly, those claims to an Celtic heritage are stupid anyway. Stupid stupid stupid. Boston was founded by English puritans. ENGLISH. PURITANS. Not Irish Catholics. It's named after the Boston in Lincolnshire in honour of John Cotton.

The whole damned place was colonised in the first place by dudes trying to escape the Church of England's dangerous flirtations with Catholicism and they hardly ever ate potatoes, it was a corn based diet.

Just cause they had cabillions of Irish immigrants doesn't mean they should go ahead and paint the place green and give the basketball team an Irish moniker. It's a city founded on English values and don't you forget it.

Thirdly, I got my arse whupped in Boston during my one and only trip there. What kind of a peoples would savagely attack me? ME! I mean OK, I may have had a little drinky poos and I may have wandered the streets blaring out the English national anthem to anyone sporting green clothing and I may have tried to use my penis as ID at some of the bars, but that's just youthful exuberance and high jinks.

Finally, when I went to Cheers Norm wasn't there. In fact, none of the Cheers people were in there and it's not even the same bar. It's a tiny place that looks nothing like the bar on TV, AND they asked me for ID..a photo ID this time! You're supposed to know my name already according to the theme tune. Everyone is supposed to know my name in there you faux Irish bollock jockies. Lying bastards.

No, I'm afraid it's an awful city and we must all encourage the defeat of their sporting franchises. The end.