Coulrophobia

It's still weekend, so before serious economics tomorrow, another personal diversion. I don't really have a fear of clowns. Many do. But I did have a fear of one particular clown. He goes by the name of Andrew Symonds.


Of course I am not trying to start another monkey trial - I really do not want to restart the row that flared up after the last test match. But being called a clown is different - Symonds deliberately paints his face with sunblock into a strange pattern that looks clown-like to me.


But the reason that we feared him was not for his ridiculous makeup but simply because of his phenomenal talent. He is the Freddie Flintoff of the Australian cricket team, arguably the most destructive batsman, the best slip catcher, the best outfielder, and in his own style possibly their most effective bowler. In Sydney last week he nearly won the match on his own.


But something big happened down under overnight. No innuendo please. I woke up on birthday morning to hear that the invincible Aussie team, Symonds included, had finally been beaten for the first time in many years and at Perth for the first time in many eons. And so we no longer fear the clown.