New year honours

My friends at the BBC have produced a somewhat erudite list of the worst Britons of each of the last 10 centuries. All of my readers will be familiar with most of the names – Hugh Despenser (inventor of the condom dispenser), Richard Rich (portrayed on screen by Macauley Culkin) and Eadric Streona, which I had previously supposed to be the county dish of Herefordshire. I am not making these names up, check the BBC site.

I thought I would join in by nominating the worst Briton of my distinguished life.

It will come as little surprise to see the name John Emburey here. Some may say that he deserves this honour for being the only English cricketer to be as callous and mercenary as to go on two rebel tours of South Africa during the apartheid years, but that is nothing compared to the hour upon hour of excruciatingly pathetic bowling. He must bear the responsibility for the death of spin bowling in England. (Those wishing to challenge the assertion that spin bowling is not dead in England need only to consider the name ‘Ashley Giles’ to see the veracity of my statement). Year after year he was selected to play at test level, where over the last few years of his international career his bowling average exceeded 60 (are you getting this, Adam) and he was singly responsible for boring to death hundreds of people including the entire population of Little Shagging in Suffolk. His only redeeming feature was his imaginative use of language as illustrated by the apocryphal story of his replying to a colleague about an injury to his back with the response “the facking facker’s facking facked” (yes he had an appalling southern accent as well).

I invite readers (AMToNW) to supply their nomination for the worst Briton of their own lifetime. If you wish to simply lambaste an obvious target, then dear Betty has provided an excellent platform for that in her seasonal article about King Herod. But entries here should be accompanied by a reasoned argument, with points awarded for obscurity while at the same time the nominee should be in the public arena, so your gym teacher or aunt will not do, unless he or she is Cilla Black for example. Groups of people are allowed up to a reasonable level, but such general targets as “all the twats who voted for Thatcher” are beyond the parameters of this competition. Adam, to help you, as you do not know any Brits, or indeed anyone who does not live in East Dumbfuck, Kentucky - you can nominate me. Tell the world why you would like to see me at the mercy of Mr Schwarzenegger, but do it with respect.