I cannot stand Peter Alliss, the golf commentator, who should have retired years ago. Just as Tiger Woods is about to sink a putt to win a tournament, you think he’s going to chip in: “Now, at this point I really should take the opportunity to pay tribute to dear old Mrs Tweed, the ladies’ fixtures secretary at Royal Sandwich, for her sterling work over 50 years” or something similarly eccentric. But tonight he excelled himself. He joined the commentary box, and his colleague rather oddly welcomed him as “the Pavarotti of golf”, to which Alliss replied: “Well that’s very kind of you, although he’s not in too good a shape at the moment, and I’m slightly less avoir du poids than him”.
I assume he was using this phrase to mean “I’m slightly less fat than he is”, which is unlikely, as most those of us inhabiting the planet Earth (unlike Alliss) probably realise that although indeed Pavarotti is “not in too good a shape at the moment” (as he’s very, very dead), the fact that he passed away 18 months ago probably means that Alliss would weigh in slightly heavier than the operatic maestro, should they choose to exhume him for comparison.
Only in golf, which is the last refuge of superannuated Tory bigots, would someone like Alliss continue to be accepted.