I think all would agree that it has been a great World Cup so far. There has been some great action on the pitch, lots of goals, and some shock results.
England have metamorphasised from a team that plays badly and loses, to a team that plays well and loses.
But all of these thrills and spills have been let down by one thing - the coverage.
Irritating punditry, tight trousers, awful shirts, and commentators whose voices are only audible to dogs.
So far, the BBC and ITV have been as bad as each other.
Firstly, why have both broadcasters felt the need to send so many people out to Brazil? It’s a right junket.
Jump on board the BBC Gravy Train - first stop Rio de Janeiro!
With all that cash at their disposal, you’d think the Beeb would be able to stretch to some hair gel to flatten the curly tuft that has gone awry on the side of Lineker’s noggin.
And what the hell is going on in the ITV studio? There seems to be some sort of colour co-ordination system in place where the three pundits where the same colour shirt, and Adrian Chiles wears a different colour.
As for Glenn Hoddle’s trousers the other night, I am sure they must have contravened the Geneva Convention.
They are all such a bunch of moaners as well.
I’m sick of seeing these people moaning on Twitter about the conditions out there.
‘It is too hot’; ‘My taxi is stuck in a traffic jam’; ‘My fillet steak was overcooked’ etc.
My heart bleeds. It must be such a chore to be out at the World Cup. In Brazil. And getting paid for it.
If they hate it so much I would happily swap with them.
They can come and scrub my poop deck while I go and swan around Copacabana beach in shorts and flip flops, musing over whether Rooney should be played out on the left or up top.
They love to moan when they are behind the microphone as well.
For years they’ve been demanding goal line technology, now we’ve got it all they are doing is moaning about it. Contrary Marys.
Thankfully, I have found a solution to all this gubbins - the ‘mute’ button on the remote control.
Now I’m simply watching the action while listening to sea shanties. Bliss.