I am about to indulge in an epic bout of virtue-signalling. I am about to try hard to be liked. I am about to labour diligently to appear 'woke'. That's what some men hurl at anyone who writes or says anything that suggests even a remote interest in the Women's World Cup. It is always men, often emoting in capital letters, that sophisticated literary device of the impotent.
A woman who ventures an opinion on the Women's World Cup — or indeed any sport — on social media is subjected to the same level of crude, sneering abuse she gets all the time. A man who ventures an opinion on the Women's World Cup is regarded as a fifth columnist, a dissembler trying to collapse the edifice of Man from within.
The truth is that the Women's World Cup is acting as a device not only to shine a light into the well of misogyny that still bores deep into the fabric of this country but also to separate those who love sport from those who see it merely as a theatre for tribalism and prejudice.
Women's World Cup shines a light into well of misogyny that bores deep into fabric of country
It separates those men and women who are enjoying watching the tournament and learning more about the stories of its protagonists from those who feel so affronted by an informed, articulate all-female BBC panel of presenter Gabby Logan, former England defender Alex Scott, ex-Scotland international Gemma Fay and retired US keeper Hope Solo that they think it would be funny to doctor a picture of them so they're holding irons instead of microphones. So original.
People who love sport get it wherever they can. They do not discriminate. 'If there was no football on at Liverpool, he'd go to Everton,' Liverpool's central defender Tommy Smith once said of Bill Shankly.
'If there was nothing on at Everton, he'd go to Manchester. If there was nothing on in Manchester, he'd go to Newcastle. If there was nothing on at all, he'd go to a park and watch a few kids kick a ball around. He was one of them fellas.'
I'm like that, too. So are most of the sports fans I know, men and women. Good sport is when two teams or two individuals or five horses or 20 F1 drivers or 100 golfers are trying their best. That's all I want. I don't like friendlies or exhibitions or testimonials or dead rubbers or matches when Nick Kyrgios is in a bad mood.
If you love sport, you're always looking for your next fix, scouring the paper for fixtures. Last November, when I went to Alabama to interview Deontay Wilder, I walked over to the Bryant Denny Stadium in Tuscaloosa to watch the University of Alabama play The Citadel in a college football match. A few days later, I went to a women's college basketball game against Clemson at the Coleman Coliseum.
I love sport because of the contest. I love sport because of the way it brings the best out of competitors. I love sport for its excitement and its unpredictability and what it tells you about the people who are playing it. I love it for the stories of their rise or the stories of their fall. Why should any of that exclude the Women's World Cup?
I love it for the triumph over adversity it often produces. And that applies whether it is men or women, football or golf, a parks pitch or a fancy stadium. That's the thing about sport; there is always drama to be had. The arena in which it takes place is largely irrelevant. Why should any of that exclude the Women's World Cup?
The thing about sport; there is always drama. Why should that exclude Women's World Cup?
The best sport I watched on television last week was France v Norway from the Stade de Nice, a match between two technically accomplished teams, a game that had skill, pace, a comical own goal from France's central defender Wendie Renard and a dose of VAR controversy. It felt like
