I'm disturbed to discover from Vicky Beeching that Ladbroke's are offering odds on the next Pope. Just seems wrong, somehow.
As someone raised on the tales of PG Wodehouse, it also raises visions of all the forms of cheating that can potentially go on in anything that involves betting. A nod from the Vatican stable boy that one of the Cardinals is off his feed could make all the difference.
And then there's the danger of John McCrirrick getting involved - maybe pointing out that a filly has never been known to win this particular event.
Thankfully the Cardinals are all locked away, and there wasn't much chance for any dodgy bookies to get them to bowl three wides in the second over, or deliberately get a yellow card for not speaking Latin or whatever.
But I'm left with two worrying images. One is of a disembodied Ray Winstone appearing, to tell the assembled, astounded cardinals that "it's all about the in-play." The other is of Chris Kamara, standing in St Peter's Square, looking in the wrong direction as that little bloke runs up behind him and steals his towel.
Religion and betting really shouldn't mix.
I always thought there was something dodgy about the little French bloke, Pascal someone or other. Always trying to get me to make a bet, he was.
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