The Thoughts of Captain Autumn

A little while ago I mentioned the occasional e-mails I get from the FHM Panel asking me about various aspects of modern life. Generally these involve facets of recreational society - downloading rock music, going to clubs, mobile phones - about which I have little or nothing to offer. Yesterday afternoon they outdid themselves. They asked me all about cars.

Question 1 asked whether I drive and own a car. I said no. Question 2 asked whether I planned to buy a car in the next 12 months. I said no. At this point you might imagine that any survey worth bothering with would decide I wasn't the man for the job, and give up the ghost. But no, it wanted me to rank the following cars - Peugeot, Porsche, Skoda, Smart, Suzuki, Vauxhall, Volkswagen, Audi, Citroen, Hyundai, Jaguar, Kia, Lexus, Mazda - according to their reliability, environmental friendliness and image. Given that I couldn't distinguish a Hyundai from a bucket of frogs, this may be the least well-informed survey ever compiled in the history of man. Having ranked them, giving a whole new benchmark to the term arbitrary, I was then asked "Using a 5 point scale where 1 means Awful and 5 means Brilliant, please rate the following car brands in terms of your overall opinion. Again, it doesn’t matter how much you know about these brands, it’s simply your impressions we are interested in." Well, if it doesn't matter how much I know about them - which in every case is an identical amount, "they're cars" - then my impressions are as valid as anybody's. A flurry of random clicking and it appeared that I found Porsches and Jaguars to be Awful, while Audis were Brilliant.

Then it started asking me about car adverts I've seen. Now, anyone who watches commercial television ever at any point has seen car adverts. But just like the beer adverts, I register quite quickly that they're not aimed at me so I don't really focus on them. I know that the car in front is a Toyota, although I think that hasn't been on for a while. There used to be some adverts on with Papa and Nicole, for some French car presumably, but I couldn't tell you which one. In fact the only bit of current car advertising I could definitely name is the Mini which sits on the roof of the office block adjacent to the Cowley BMW plant, and that's only because I cycle past it every day. I doubt whether most ad agencies would consider placing a car upon flat-roofed office blocks as a judicious long-term strategy.

"Brands often sponsor events, programmes, venues, teams, etc. (For example, Arsenal football club is sponsored by Emirates; the X Factor is sponsored by Carphone Warehouse etc.)", it said. "Thinking about sponsorship for car brands you may have seen in the past few months, please indicate the specific brands for which you recall sponsorship, and what was being sponsored". Blimey. Surely some football team must be sponsored by a car, but I can't think of one. Or some TV programme, something, somewhere... I really hadn't realised quite to what extent I ignore all this drivel. I'm mildly pleased with myself for my imperviousness to advertising which could have no possible impact on me even if I were conscious of it.

All this, supposedly, will get me entry into a draw to win one of five £100 Amazon vouchers. Something tells me that my name might fall prey to an "inadvertent" slipped finger on a delete key.

I've been keeping half an eye on the Gavin Strachan weblog on the BBC Sport website. Gavin Strachan is what's known as - in fact he disarmingly uses the term of himself - a journeyman footballer, plying his trade unglamorously in the lower leagues year in year out. He's approaching the end of his career and has started studying journalism as a possible future career, given that footballers at his level need to continue to earn a living when they stop playing. It's a self-effacing read, devoid of bitterness about the way his career turned out and an interesting insight into the mundane reality of life as a professional at the bottom end of the game, where fortunes are certainly not to be made.

I thought of Strachan's blog when I happened across the website of Marcel Desailly - specifically the collections page thereof. What a smug tosser Desailly is. I'd put it down to him starting off about wine, which I've previously established as an area of pompous dilettantism that particularly makes my blood boil ("Everybody knows the Great Wines: Cheval Blanc, Haut Brion, Petrus… indisputably my favourite Bordeaux is the Haut Brion. This wine does not vary during the meal. It remains steady. What I still have to learn is if some wines should be decanted or not, according to their vintage year…"), but it gets worse. "In Italy, carrying a beautiful watch is akin to having mastered a certain art of living. Over there, the watch is very important, an essential accessory, alongside a beautiful pair of shoes." Wanker. Wanker wanker wanker. Explaining how significant a beautiful watch is by saying it's as important as a good pair of shoes, what an arse. Try spending half an hour living in the real world. "Today, I have a beautiful collection: well known makes such as Rolex or Cartier, and others less known by general public but much more prestigious, such as Frank Muller, Patek Philip and Bréguet." Yes, we're all ignorant scum Marcel. If only we were as learned as you and knew the names of obscure watchmakers. Maybe one day we can dream of learning the names of obscure cobblers too.

Just in case we weren't convinced as to the level of his self-importance, he continues "It is perhaps an ignored aspect of my personality, but I am a fanatic for table tennis." Sorry for ignoring that rivetting part of your personality Marcel. I was just too gripped by the wine and watches to devote myself to your table tennis fandom. I promise to try harder in future.