THIRTY FIVE FRAMES TO GO.

What a terrific day of snooker ! Two contrasting semi-finals, both closely contested and producing a final tomorrow to make the mouth water.

Judd Trump's triumph over Ding Junhui was an astonishing achievement for a young lad of 21. The final session produced snooker of immense quality and, as was said by one of the commentators, Ding didn't lose it, Trump won it. That this young man could produce such a mature performance says an awful lot about his temperament as well as his skill.

The second semi-final was a very different affair, played between two much older and more experienced men, John Higgins and Mark Williams. Williams held the whip-hand early on and Higgins struggled to stay in touch. Somehow, Higgins not only stayed in touch but slowly drew level and then moved ahead. The last few frames, in huge contrast to the Ding-Trump match, were nervous and strewn with errors as both players felt the tension. In the end, it was Mark Williams who missed one too many pots and John Higgins who emerged as the winner.

Tomorrow, we'll see Higgins, already 4 times a finalist and 3 times a champion, and Judd Trump, at 21 the second youngest finalist ever and whose only previous visit to the Crucible ended in a first round defeat at the hands of Shaun Murphy in 2007. The contrast could hardly be greater.

Who will win the best-of-35 frame final ? Logic says Higgins, though Trump will probably be the 'peoples' favourite'; the Final ought to be a cracker and either will be a worthy Champion.

FRANKEL, THE WONDER HORSE !

Forget television's old equine hero, 'Champion, The Wonder Horse', anyone who saw the 2,000 Guineas run at Newmarket this afternoon cannot fail to have been impressed by the astonishing performance of the winner, Frankel.

This horse, admittedly a hot favourite, simply ran away from the rest of the field from the start. He even left his own pacemaker trailing in his wake as he built a huge lead by the halfway stage, and clung on to win by some 6 lengths. He's already a strong favourite for the Derby, though whether he can win that longer race in a similar way is surely debatable; one imagines that his jockey will have to hold him back if he's not to simply exhaust himself long before the finishing post.

Roll on June 4th when all may be revealed.

WHO WILL POT THE FINAL BLACK ?

As the World Snooker Championship approaches it's final stages, it seems we're in for a battle between young and old. On the one hand, Judd Trump, 21, and Ding Junhui, 24, will contest one semi-final, while on the other, Mark Williams, 36, and John Higgins, 36 next month, will contest the other. Williams and Higgins have 5 World titles, and 7 appearenaces in the final, between them, while neither of the two youngsters has even reached the semi-final stage before.

The standard at this year's championship has, in my inexpert view, been excellent. Any of the remaining competitors would be a worthy champion as all have shown plenty of grit and determination as well as amazing skill so far. In particular, perhaps, young Judd Trump has exceeded all expectations with some remarkable displays of potting, now allied to at least some semblance of a 'safety game'. The two 'old-stagers' have both had their troubles in recent years but have battled immensely hard to put themselves firmly in the frame yet again, and Ding Junhui has added an entirely new dimension to the game's international appeal. Only a handful of players from outside of the traditional 'white european' culture (in which I include former colonial countries such as Australia and Canada) have ever made a mark in the game and Ding can make history by becoming the first Asian player to win the crown; he has already achieved the distinction of being the first Asian semi-finalist.

Who will triumph ? For once, I don't really have a favourite; gone are the days when I'd shout my support for Steve Davis or Jimmy White at the television and, in different ways, I can see reasons for supporting all four players. Williams for his dramatic return to form after years in the wilderness and Higgins for his rehabilitation after the match-fixing scandal of last year; young Trump as, perhaps, the most exciting player and the 'face of the future', and Ding as the man whose success so far has brought snooker to a wider audience than ever before and whose success here could revolutionise it.

I have a sneaking feeling that the final may be Williams against Trump, but then again it could be Higgins against Ding .......... or Williams against Ding .......... or Higgins against Trump. Oh dear, it could be anyone !

CRICKET, LOVELY CRICKET.

A couple of days ago, I found myself sitting at the Derbyshire County Cricket ground, in the sun and having a beer. The only thing really unusual about this was that it was still April.

I've been watching cricket for almost 50 years since my first visit to Lord's in 1962 and this, as far as I can remember, is the first time I've ever been to a County Championship match in April. In years gone by, the season used to start around 20th April; the Championship might have begun at the end of April, but teams would certainly not have played more than one match before the end of that month. Now, with the advent of the egregious 20-20, the Championship, the season starts at the end of March while the premier tournament, is relegated to April and May, August and September; the best months of June and July are reserved, almost exclusively, for knock-about games that draw the uneducated masses.

Last Wednesday was a beautiful day. The weather was fantastic, as good as July or August, and my team did well; the trouble is that this was very exceptional. More often than not April is a dull, wet and windy month, not very conducive to cricket; championship games suffer and end in draws, while the players gain no form to take forward into the rest of the season. This year, players and supporters have had an unusually clement start to the season; all any of us can do is take advantage while we can. The one-day, even the 2 or 3 hour, tripe will be on us all too soon.

SCHWARTZEL IS THE MASTER

Sadly for golfing enthusiasts in the UK, Rory McIlroy failed in his bid to lead the Masters championship from start to finish; he did, though, manage to lead it for 63 of the 72 holes and it was only a catastrophic last nine that undid him. At 21, he was hoping to become the second youngest winner of the tournament, after Tiger Woods, but it wasn't to be. Nonetheless, this young man has an enormous talent and will surely improve for the disappointment of Sunday; winning a golfing 'Major', or even several, must be very likely.

With McIlroy falling away, the door was left open for others and it was a relatively obscure South African, Charl Schwartzel, who eventually triumphed in fairly spectacular style, with birdies at each of the last four holes leaving his challengers floundering. For a time, it had looked as though Tiger Woods might put in a dramatic challenge but he was unable to improve his score from the 8th hole and finished 4 behind the winner. In typical Woods fashion, his responses to the immediate post-round interview were terse, bordering on the rude; this man may be a great golfer but he still has a lot to learn about manners and accepting defeat with good grace. He could do worse than read a little Kipling or, if that's too much for him, visit the Centre Court at Wimbledon for a lesson :

"If you can meet with triumph and disaster and treat these two imposters just the same"

While McIlroy finished at 4 under par, still a good score, the UK had 4 other players who finished high on the leader board in Luke Donald, Justin Rose, Lee Westwood and Ross Fisher. As McIlroy faded, Donald came into genuine contention but was unable to keep up with the pace and eventually tied for 4th with Woods and Geoff Ogilvy; Rose and Westwood both finished on 5 under and are assured of their invitations to compete again next year, as are Fisher and McIlroy who tied in 15th place.

One 'Major' down and 3 more to go. Perhaps McIlroy or one of the others will have better luck in Bethesda in June, at Royal St George's in July or John's Creek in August. Those of us on this sdie of the Atlantic can only keep our fingers crossed !

SPIRIT OF RED RUM LIVES ON

Yesterday's Grand National was yet another great race in the history of this Great Race. Nowhere else in the world is there a steeplechase to match this extraordinary test of stamina and jumping, a race first run in 1839 and won by a horse very appropriately named 'Lottery'.

This year's race was one that confirmed the credentials of the McCain family, the winner being trained by the son of the great Donald "Ginger" McCain, the man who brought 'Red Rum' to Aintree for 5 unforgettable years of drama and success - no other horse in the history of the race has ever achieved 3 wins and 2 seconds, or become quite such a 'people's favourite'. McCain gained another triumph with 'Amberleigh House' in 2004 and now his son, another Donald, has also won this most famous of national hunt horse races with 'Ballabriggs'.

Inevitably there are people who want to see the race banned due to the danger it holds for the horses. It has to be acknowledged that the race is hazardous to both horses and jockeys, but it's interesting to note that no one has recently made any serious representation on behalf of the jockeys. Every year, an assortment of animal rights organisations use any opportunity to argue for the races' abandonment and, this year, sadly, 2 horses did suffer fatal injuries. The question that arises is "Should the race continue ?"

Race horses are, essentially, wild animals that have been tamed and trained by humans; as wild animals, they are natural runners and jumpers. In race situations, it can be seen that even after parting with their jockey, a horse will usually continue running and jumping alongside their companions in a race, and this includes the Grand National. Red Rum was never seen to complain or to baulk at the challenge of Aintree's mamoth fences, and actually seemed to relish them; in 5 visits, he completed the course every time, fighting to the finish on each occasion.

It's also the case that there are thousands of national hunt races very year and comparatively few fatalities, although animal rights organisations will use every available mechanism to make the numbers seem as bad and frightening as possible. At the same time, the horse racing authorities and enthusiasts will use every possible arguement to make the losses appear as insignificant as possible.

What can we make of all of this ? Actually, very little. The majority of people in the western world think very little of the origin of their dinners - beef, lamb, pork, chicken etc. don't grow on trees - and yet many of them consider the eating of other animals, horses or dogs, to be disgusting. Some find the hunting of vermin such as foxes to be cruel and inhumane, others think it's perfectly reasonable sport. Some believe that keeping their homes full of dogs and cats is quite normal, others find it pretty filthy.

In reality, it all seems to be a matter of cultural beliefs and a degree of somewhat irrational attachment to animals that have very little in the way of anything that can be called true consciousness. Why we should be so concerned about horses when we happily kill and eat cows, sheep, pigs and chickens, as well as geese, ducks, rabbits and loads of other creatures, is a bit of a mystery; at least the horses go out as free animals, doing something that they are naturally inclined to do.

On balance, I think that those who are calling for the banning of the Grand National should be ignored. They may be well-meaning, but they're misguided. If we take their views to the extreme we won't just be having a referendum on 'AV' in a few weeks time, we'll be having another on whether rodents should have the vote in a a few decades. People are people and animals are animals; humans have been using animals in a variety of ways for thousands of years and some animals have certainly profited from eating the occasional human, but with no overall ill-effect to either group. I don't believe that horse racing is cruel and I don't believe that the Grand National should be banned; I believe that the killjoys who have so little to do that their main "raison d'etre" is worrying about animals, should open their eyes and start thinking about their fellow human beings a bit more.

WILL NO ONE RID US OF THIS EGREGIOUS SCOT ?

Alex Ferguson, the loud-mouthed Scottish yob who runs Manchester United, is at it again.

After the disgusting behaviour of his protegé, Wayne Rooney, last week, Ferguson has found what he sees as yet another injustice being done to his players and his team. Rooney was censured and banned for his very public outburst, a penalty that he and, presumably, his manager, felt was too harsh; the fact that it meant he'd miss the FA Cup semi-final was, of course, nothing to do with it.

Rooney appealed against the ban and was rightly told to go away. Now Ferguson is claiming, apparently on the say-so of the relevant referee's fellow officials, that the referee was 'put under pressure' to make the report that led to Rooney's ban. The fact that the idiot's actions were seen and heard by millions of TV viewers which must, itself, have raised the ante somewhat, seems to have escaped Ferguson, as he berates and pressurises yet another referee.

One wonders how many referees the egregious Scot is now happy to have controlling matches involving his team; one might also wonder how many refeees 'throw a sickie' when told that they've drawn the short straw. If he has a complaint against a referee, by all means make it, but in private and not through the media. When players misbehave, they are rightly penalised; the same should apply to managers, however high and mighty they are. It really is time that the FA took some serious action against this man.

SPURS COME UNSTUCK - BIG TIME.

So Tottenham's magical run in the Champions' League has almost certainly come to a shuddering halt at the hands, or feet, of Real Madrid.

Tottenham have been living on borrowed time for longer than it's healthy to remember. Their recent league result, draws with 3 of the bottom clubs in the Premier league, have hardly suggested they were really Champions' League material and Real have driven the point home, emphatically. It may be fair to say that the loss of Peter Crouch inside the first 15 minutes was a major factor but his wasn't the first dismissal the club has suffered in an important match this season; after all, it was only after they were reduced to 10 men that they nearly staged an astonishing come-back against Inter Milan at the San Siro, but making a habit of such situations is surely something that should be avoided.

Tottenham are a decent side but nothing very special. Their progress in the Champions' League this season has been pretty amazing but now, bar an act of god, it's over. Sadly, their recent league performances have been such as to make it very unlikely that they will qualify for next year's Champions' League and they will have to settle for the lesser UEFA League and even that could be problematic if they don't start scoring a few goals. Their strikers have been a largely impotent force this season while their defence has been less than impenetrable - not a recipe for success.

What Harry Redknapp has done with this team is remarkable but he's reached the end of what can be achieved without long term committment and major investment, neither of which seem to be in the minds of the Tottenham Board. While Arsenal and Manchester United have picked a manager and then given him time to properly develop a team and a philosophy, Tottenham have changed managers more times than I've changed my socks. Harry is, sadly, too old to be a long term proposition but what is the Board doing about finding a man who can lead this team for the next 10, 15 or 20 years ? This is what they must have if they are ever going to be real challengers for major trophies. Instead, the Board seems to want to move the team to the outskirts of East London, at the Olympic stadium site, alienating it from its supporters and its roots.

50 years after their great double-winning season, Tottenham have yet to find any sort of consistency in play or in management. Their overall record, even including this year's heights, speaks for itself - mediocre, at best - while neighbours Arsenal have outstripped them in every way. Sad, but true.

ROONEY'S FOUL-MOUTHED OUTBURST.

Wayne Rooney may be a good footballer, though he is certainly not a great one. What he is, without any doubt, is a foul-mouthed and illiterate yob.

His manner and behaviour on the field is nothing for anyone to promote or be proud of. He may well be doing nothing more than behaving in a way that is commonplace to many people but, given the huge prominence of football in today's society, it is unacceptable. That his manager is equally, if not even more guilty, is probably his only real defence.

In this country, football has led the way in degrading our society; as the game has risen in prominence, so the moral standards of our society have declined. Players are paid obscene amounts of money for kicking a ball around, essentially for playing a child's game; they behave in a way that leads our children to believe that aggression and confrontation are the norm, that it is perfectly acceptable to challenge any decision that you don't like in a threatening manner.

While I'm quite sure that top level football is now a huge detriment to our society, what I'm not sure of is whether it is football that has led the way or other issues in our society that have created an environment in which the abominable atmosphere of senior football can thrive. Whichever it is, footballers, their managers and clubs have a duty to clean up their acts and, if they won't do it, sponsors and broadcasters should take the matter out of their hands.

A LAMENT FOR CRICKETING GHOSTS.

The Cricket World Cup is, thankfully, over. India has won in an apparently exciting match that avoided any serious crowd disturbance and there were no terrorist attacks. Glory Be.

This competition is an invention of the need for sports to be elevated many strata above their real position of importance in the world. Instead of sports being played for fun and the entertainment of the spectators, they are now essentially about the amount of money that can be attracted to support the grossly overpaid prima donnas who inhabit the largely new and very alien world of modern sporting celebrity.

As a lad of 9 or 10, I was taken to my first matches at Lords, the home of cricket, by my father. I watched Middlesex, which became 'my' team, I saw England, and regularly enjoyed seeing many of the world's greatest players in an amosphere of awe and wonder. Later, I was privileged to be present at a couple of one day Finals, the Gillete in 1971 and the NatWest in 1980, both of which were great games played in front of an appreciative audience. Over a period of years, I saw Australian, West Indian, and Pakistani touring teams; I saw Colin Cowdrey score 155 and Geoff Boycott make 182 (not out, mind you !) and watched as Barry Richards and Mike Proctor showed just how good they were - extraordinary !

Since those heady days, my attendance at matches has dwindled. Test matches are now the province of the inane masses, those who would otherwise be throwing bricks at referees from the football terraces. One day games are frequently the same, often with so much moronic chanting as to destroy the experience of anyone who actually wants to enjoy the skill of the cricketers on the field. Real cricket, the County Championship, has been wholly devalued by the withdrawal of most of the best players, deemed to be needed for the Test side and who mustn't be 'overplayed', and by the stupid introduction of a 4-day format. This is supposed to prepare our younger players for Test cricket but how is yet to be made clear. Attendances at County Championship matches, certainly at Lords, are abysmal; one or two other grounds I've visited possibly fare a little better but it's a losing battle. The Championship, in its current format, is doomed; it will no doubt be replaced by a limited overs event before very long.

There is so much wrong with the current structure of cricket in this country that it's impossible to know where to begin. Our players are feted as being sporting stars when most of them have never been heard of beyond the boundaries of their home grounds. Some of them, far too many, are paid stupid amounts of money on the back of unsustainable sponsorship deals; most of them are nothing like as good as the media makes out. They play little cricket outside of the international merry-go-round of Tests, one-dayers and the egregious 20-20. The game has become a spectacle for the uneducated masses, in which the batsmen are expected to hit every ball for 4 or 6 and the bowler is nothing more than an obliging adjunct. The ball has been doctored to make it as unhelpful to the bowlers as possible, the wickets are as flat as any pancake one can imagine and are covered at the slightest sign of a dewdrop. The game I watched as a youngster no longer exists.

Of course, there are still some good, even great, players who would prosper whatever the type of game and whatever the conditions. It's hard to believe that Sachin Tendulkar or Muttiah Muralitharan would not have found a place in most international sides of the last 100 years, but they are the exception; there are few, if any, English players of recent decades who have reached such heights of brilliance and consistency. This situation will continue for as long as we insist on heaping plaudits on players every time they do anything of note, rather than holding back praise until it is really deserved.