Despite my grumpy online demeanour and occasional Eeyore moments, and despite my ongoing severe depression, I’m generally an optimist, quite sunny truth be told. But I read something today that made me despondent.

The A&E departments in the UK are dealing with a record number of patients, something like 625,000 in the past month, up from 400,000 in the same period last year, and beating the traditional winter peak when elderly people succumb to respiratory infections.

Nobody is quite sure why the figures are so high, because there’s been no real analysis yet. However, there’s some worrying anecdotal evidence that connects the rise to the World Cup. When England are playing in a major international tournament, crimes of domestic violence skyrocket. Given that Costa Rica surprised the world and beat the floppy haired playboys from Italy, thus heaving us out of the competition and getting the same plane home as the floppy haired playboys from Spain, I can only see things getting worse.

I don’t see the logic in thumping people, and certainly not your husband, wife, partner, or children. I certainly do not understand why you’d take it out on them because some bunch of floppy haired English playboys got beaten just as predicted.

It’s a GAME! It is of no significance whatsoever. It’s certainly no justification for raising your hand to somebody you’re supposed to love.

By the way, Twitter has been alight with English people excoriating a Scotland fan rejoicing with the Uruguayans when the floppy haired South American playboys beat us. Why should he not? Tell me why he shouldn’t support Uruguay? Scotland failed to qualify, as they did for the previous two contests. I have a suspicion that if roles were reversed, England failed to qualify, and then a bunch of floppy haired Scottish playboys got knocked out, there’d be dancing in the streets of England.

Football defeats me. I do despair a bit.