Football's a funny old game, but not many laughs today eh? The demise of Scarborough is not only a dark day for the club and an ignominous end to 128 years of history, but it also crystalises all that is wrong with football today.

Fissures have opened up all the way through the game - and it's all down to money. The gap between the premiership clubs (each enjoying their £30m television rights) and the champions league is huge and the seismic rifts continue to fracture right through the game. For Scarborough £2.5m was just too big a debt to carry.

In its way this is an indictment with what's gone wrong with the 'beautiful game'. Sky-high wages have driven up ticket prices and driven clubs like the Boro out the game.

When I was a lad in the Sixties and living in Beverley, my brother and I use to go and watch Hull City. It was the era of Waggy and Chilton and top-table clashes in the then Third Division with their rivals of the day like Milwall and Aston Villa. And players on wages that most could relate to.  Seeing the Tigers last home game at the dilapated Boothferry Park and seeing the new stadium says it all.

Either you have the brass or you haven't and sadly for Scarborough, it's the latter. It's not quite the end of football as we know it in the town,Jim, but it's still a difficult pill to swallow.

I don’t know why everybody is surprised about how bad the Olympic logo is. We have a good track record, after all, with this sort of stuff.

Driving into town at lunchtime I listened to people raging on the radio about how a six year old kid could have done better (they could have done), that the design was instantly forgettable (it is) and how you couldn’t make out what it was supposed to say or represent (you can’t).

Despite the fact that the logo is rubbish, the debate missed out on two pertinent points. The cost and the reason for the design …. I use that word in a very flexible sense.

The cost of the Olympics has already gone through the roof, leaving original estimates trailing in its wake, and here we are chucking an unbelievable £400,000 to come up with this mess. It beggars belief.

Things get even worse when the designers tell us that it is based on the sort of graffiti that blights our streetscape in an effort to win over the young ‘internet trendies’, getting them to buy into the Olympic ideal.

Baloney! All it’s telling them is that graffiti is ‘cool’ and giving them carte blanche to continue on their merry way.

No gold medals here then.

Someone bought a lottery ticket for me on my birthday. It’s a novel idea and the first one I’ve ever had. So there I was swept up with millions into that strangely surreal atmosphere of hope and expectation.

There was nigh on £8m up for grabs. Isn’t it amazing how your mind is suddenly taken over by thoughts of wealth and what you would do with all those zillions? I must apologise to the relatives I was visiting in Devon on Saturday if I seemed strangely abstracted.

My brain was partly annexed for the day. I worked out, for instance, that I could comfortably survive on £500,000 until I went gaga and hadn’t a clue what money was for anyway.

With that sum set aside I was filled with a sense of largesse and how I would distribute vast sums among relatives and friends. Easy when you haven’t got it, isn’t it?

Of course, I didn’t win. The odds are a mathematically mind-numbing 1 in 13,983,816 against you doing so.

Will I now engage in the extreme sport of lottery ticket buying? Err … nope. It creates far too much brain activity on a Saturday.

Don’t panic, I’m not going to harp on about mobile phones, but there is an addition to yesterday’s tale. Isn’t it interesting when you suddenly see something or mention something they start cropping up all over the place? (Don't see many elephants do you?)

Driving into town yesterday lunchtime I saw a bloke in a car – on his own – talking away and gesticulating. He looked as mad as a box of frogs, then as I drew near I realised he had a blue tooth ear thingy.

It is the right time to use them I suppose, but it must still be distracting nonetheless. Then, blow me down, on the way home last night I saw a guy out running with one in his ear (no, it wasn’t a music earpiece thingy either).

Now that is seriously crackers. Before breaking my back a few years ago, I was an avid runner and just outside the village where I lived in Staffordshire were miles of forest and heath land.

Part of the joy of running up there for a couple of hours was a sense of freedom and peace. The thought of taking a phone with me was … well the words escape me.

While in a queue in the newsagents this morning I started wondering what mobile phones were really doing to people’s brains and hearing.

The question popped up because two people in front of me had those hands-free blue-tooth thingies fixed to their right ears.

Mobile phones are, of course, very useful, but why do pedestrians find it necessary to be continually plugged in? It all seems very intrusive and unnecessary. And just what is all that electronic activity buzzing quietly away doing to the grey matter?

After all we use to manage perfectly well when the nearest thing to a mobile phone outside the home was a phone box.

Don’t get me wrong, I think the mobile phone is a wonderful invention – my little box of tricks takes photos, video clips, has a radio connection and I can even ring people on it.

But it is a question of who is controlling who. Walking around with a bit of gear jammed in your ear probably demonstrates that someone’s got the wrong answer.

Scooter is a very affectionate and chatty cat. She mews, purrs and burbles away a lot. However, I was less than impressed at being woken up at 5.30 this morning when she suddenly decided she wanted her breakfast.

The sun was up, the birds were calling and she clearly wanted to be up and away on her business. So I duly obliged, hoofed her out the back door and told her to come back two hours later for her food.

Was she contrite? Not a bit of it. At a more fitting hour, I emerged on to the patio with my morning cuppa to find her asleep in her favourite spot in the garden at the foot of the olive tree.

She was up like a shot and launched herself into the kitchen – well she doesn’t actually like going ‘in’ the kitchen. She just stands at the door asking for grub. It must be something to do with the slate tiles on the floor.

When she realised I hadn’t followed her, Scoots came back and reminded me of my duty to cat and country. I remember not long after she arrived someone either on an early blog or in conversation said that I’d just lost my house to a cat.

I’m beginning to see what they mean – but wouldn’t change a thing. She’s found a nice home at last and is actually lovely to have around.

Recently a garage near me was at the centre of a credit and debit card fraud. Drivers had seen thousands of pounds disappear from their accounts after the cards were believed to have been cloned when paying for fuel.

Now I read that there is a massive fraud operation running at petrol stations up and down the country and it has left me wondering whether it’s worth using cards any longer.

When banks first issued debit cards it was hailed as a great advance and the first step towards becoming a cashless society. The trouble is some people have become cashless for the wrong reason – their funds have been stripped out by credit card thieves.

Last week I stuffed my wallet with readies and went around paying for things with cash, which seemed to surprise some people. At least if I lose my wallet I only lose a handful of money and not see my whole account cleaned out.

Meanwhile today is May Day – no doubt the Morris Dancers will later be out in force around the Maypole gaily waving their handkies in the bright sun ..... I sometimes wonder about our culture, you know.