Who’s the Daddy? - The ball’s very firmly in the women’s court

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I TOOK my daughters to watch two of the country’s best netball teams play last Saturday.

Here’s what didn’t happen. Seconds after the young lady playing goal attack scored the goal that clinched the game she didn’t sneer down a camera lens and shout “F***ing what? What? F***ing hell!”

The woman playing wing defence didn’t stub a lit cigar out in a team-mate’s eye, nor did she batter a team-mate unconscious in the dressing room leaving them half blind and then beat someone to a bloody pulp on a night out.

Nobody took out a super injunction preventing newspapers printing stories about a player who had an extra-marital affair with an international team-mate’s ex-boyfriend and then get sacked as England captain because of it. Because it didn’t happen.

Nobody broke into a men’s prison with their sister, complained they were allergic to the playing surface and turned up late for the second half, threw darts out of a window at youth team players because they were bored, were unable to put on a training bib, got sent off for kicking an opponent in the chest and had a punch-up with a team-mate in training.

Nobody brought an air rifle and accidentally shot a club intern, or felt “physically sick” and nearly crashed their car at “only” being offered £55,000 a week by their previous club, threw up in someone’s car and said they should feel “privileged”, nor did they cheat on their world famous spouse time and time again.

Nobody spent £100,000 flying their dogs to their new home on the other side of the world in a private jet, realised the weather was too hot for them and so flew them back to England.

See the Lancaster Guardian (08-04-11) for full story.