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Review of the week

Chris Charles | 12:17 UK time, Tuesday, 8 July 2008

As entered the , a ticker ran along the bottom of the screen informing us of the programmes that had been shunted across to Ö÷²¥´óÐã2 - Keeping Up Appearances, Songs of Praise, Last of the Summer Wine, 'Allo 'Allo...

Thankfully I had already postponed the planned trip to visit my dear old Nan in her old people's home. Things could have got pretty tasty in the TV room if I'd suggested staying with the tennis - especially with offering another tempting alternative on ITV for anyone the wrong side of 60.

Once the epic on-court battle had finally reached its conclusion, we were immediately treated to an episode of The Vicar of Dibley - a bit like following the Olympic men's 100m final with an egg and spoon race.

For this was more than a tennis match - it was seven hours of pure theatre, complete with cliff-hanging intervals thoughtfully provided by the traditional British summer weather.

As the contest swung one way, then the next, my other half's mother (repeatedly) remarked: "It's a shame someone has to lose" - a well-worn cliché but for once spot on as Federer and Nadal strained every sinew to retrieve 130mph serves in the sort of light normally associated with .

I for one was firmly in the Spaniard's camp - not least because of the R-Fed took to wearing during Wimbledon 2008.

OK, it was mildly better than the white suit jacket, but rumour has it the only reason it wasn't seized by the fashion police was because they'd run out of storage space after confiscating Sharapova's tuxedo, Serena's mac and .

Nadal on the other hand, in his muscle vest and tracky top was like Tyson in his pomp - eschewing the finery of champions past to enter the ring like a gladiator preparing to slug it out with a lion.
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As 'ban-the-hoodies' on the Robbo blog put it: "When Nadal walks on court he looks ready for a fight till the death, but Federer looks like he's getting ready to setttle in with some nice Chianti and a book."

A little further up the M1, Lewis Hamilton was proving that not only can he walk on water, he can drive on it as well. While his rivals were minging in the rain, Hamilton treated a treacherous Silverstone like a trip to the shops as he cruised to

The win put Stevenage's finest level with Kimi Raikkonen, whose red-faced Ferrari team must have been praying for a cloud-busting machine to appear from nowhere after sticking him on the wrong tyres.

In football, the silly season continued apace with the on-off transfers of Ronaldo, Barry and taking more twists than on the waltzers.

If I was a betting man, I'd have a few quid on Barry and Lampard heading for pastures new (and wages fat) - with Ronaldo stopping at Old Trafford on the basis that he's too scared to go anywhere else.

The twinkle-toed Portuguese, who has just (try saying that after a few pints) has been using all his tricks to stay out of Sir Alex Ferguson's way but he can't avoid him forever. As the Eagles opined in - "You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave."

Besides, Ronaldo's sister, Elma, told The Sun: "He wants to stay at United" - so it must be true.

The Currant Bun also came up with the headline of the week to describe a and perennial under-achievers Newcastle United.

The paper claimed Bin Laden's family were interested in buying the club for £300m, under the banner..."Wor On Terror". The Toon Army were said to be "disgusted" by the news but what's the betting most of us who support clubs outside the Big Four would welcome the Devil himself if he could guarantee putting a trophy in the cabinet next season.

And finally, back to the tennis, where aside from , the highlight had to be watching a grimace her way through the men's final as animated hubby and Friend Of Federer, Gavin Rossdale, lived and breathed every last shot.

Ms Stefani will no doubt be planning her revenge, so expect the former Bush frontman to be somewhere he'd really rather not in the coming weeks. Like one of her concerts perhaps.

OTHER STUFF


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