Wait... What?

So, summer has finally cranked it's creaky self into gear. It's warm. It's downright sticky. We're 2/3rds of the way through the domestic cricket season and 1/2 way through the home internationals.

And tomorrow the Super 14 starts.

It snuck up on ya, dinnit? Don't lie. Especially if, like me, the only chance you get to really read a newspaper is in subway. (Or, like Madame, you are stuck reading the Oddity.)

But yes. The Super 14. Interminable rounds which underscore summer's demise and suck the life out of players and rugby fans.

Maybe I'm a cynic.

Maybe I haven't followed rugby fanatically enough since Christian Cullen retired.

Maybe - Oh God, don't shoot me - I just don't care.