Chris Thompson   Chris Thompson on the internet

I can go a year without watching tennis, then sit down for Wimbledon and enjoy every moment of it.

It’s a sport that lends itself to the casual fan. It’s a beautiful sport, often a mesmerising sport: anyone can appreciate Roger Federer’s pinpoint precision and poetic skill.

But there is no Federer here. And although that makes it less exciting in a way, I’m hoping it will still be exciting here, with these two players.

As I’m writing, the Wimbledon final is underway, and I’m hoping it’s going to be a thrilling game. It’s a little bit strange not to have Roger Federer in it: he limped out against Thomas Berdych earlier in the competition – and it will be interesting to see if it will be a passing of the torch moment, like when Federer trumped Sampras all those years ago.

There’s something thoroughly entertaining about Nadal. He plays with such intensity, such fire; a steely determination to never give up, never allow a single point to slip away. He literally plays every point as if he were against match point. And yet, he has such endurance that you have to think the longer the game goes, the more it favours him.

Berdych is a relative unknown. Although he if he wins, he will be the first person to ever win the title having gone through the top three players in the world to do so.

There are some famous faces in the crowd, too, and you can see why: it’s a fantastic event. The sun is shining, there are strawberries and cream and offer, and tennis is a game that you don’t have to follow to appreciate.

John Carlin in The Sunday Times today has written a fantastic piece that perfectly highlights England’s shortcomings as a football team.

He interviewed Spanish ace Xabi Alonso about why England failed so miserably at the World Cup, who said, very eloquently, that the 11 best does not make the best 11.

Yes, we can litter our team with world-beaters and Champions League heroes, Premiership champions and footballers of the year; but ultimately, it is not a team.

To make a team, you design it, and design it with specific players and their specific skills in mind. You do not get the 11 best players and force them into a position and a system that they’re not used to. You don’t force them to play in these unfamiliar ways, because, as we have seen, they will play like strangers.

England have played like strangers for so long that it has become the norm – to get better, to make it into a further stage of the World Cup than the last 16, we need to break the mould.

When Germany were thrashing England the other day, the commentator said: how many of these German players would you swap for the England team? He was talking, of course, about the supposed brilliance of our individual players.

But Germany are a brilliant team. They play with the fearlessness of youth, and they play like they are enjoying themselves. And they are now in the semi-finals after destroying Argentina in a similar fashion to the way they dismantled England.

It is not about the individuals: it is about how they co-exist, how they play together, how they string passes and think and work as a unit out on the field.

I just hope that England learn their lesson, and learn it quickly.

Well, England crashed miserably out of the World Cup today, and it will be another four years before we can build up the snowball of hype, hope, and expectations again.

Is it really a surprise to see them go out? They played so terribly bad in the group stages, and failed to come in first place – which inevitably means playing tough opposition in the first knockout game. This time it was Germany. Last time it was Portugal.

The simple fact is, England seems to be a team of individuals – great individuals, there is no doubt about that; they are world-beaters and Champions League standouts, most of them – but they are not a team.

Argentina are a team. Brazil are a team; passing in a blur of brilliant speed, and attacking, moving forwards rather than sitting back, ponderous and slow.

England looked a pedestrian side today, and, really, even if they had got through, they would probably get picked apart by Argentina, who play like the team they are, and not like strangers.

I think there is a lot to be learned from Spain, here. Fabregas doesn’t make the Spanish starting 11 for a reason: it doesn’t suit the team. He may be a fantastic player, but it is not about amassing an army of fantastic players, it is about putting together a team.

And until England remembers that, or an England manager is brave enough to remember that, we will still be stuck playing pedestrian football.

A 90-year-old woman has upstaged Tiger Woods and made a 181yd hole-in-one shot — an amazing feat for anyone, letalone a pensioner who has only played for two years. It sounds like the kind of shot even professional golfers would have to try all day to do.

She said she felt amazed and stunned to have achieved the feat. The club even gaver her a trophy in celebration of her success.

The owner of the club said she was a natural at the sport — which, I suppose, is to be expected when you can hit in shots like that in just your second year of play.

According to news reports, he said: “It’s very rare to get a hole in one. Mary is a real natural with excellent hand and eye co-ordination. She loves golf and plays in all weathers.

It’s a wonderful story really. And it’s made all the more powerful to me because my friend has just given a presentation on age and ageism: age is just a number, was the general gist of it; and this proves that you can still pull off some miraculous feats even when you’re 90.

Tim Tebow’s college career is, arguably, and very probably, the best the sport has ever seen. And this video shows you why — in a roundabout, humorous sort of way.

But the reason I like it so much is not just because it’s done in such a funny way – Tim Tebow’s foetus stiff-armed his illness away when he was in the womb, apparently – but because so much of it is so true. At least in my opinion.

Every time I hear someone criticize Tebow’s irregular throwing motion, I chuckle a little bit inside. Because to me, it’s like saying you don’t want Cristiano Ronaldo or Lionel Messi on your team because they kick the ball in slightly odd ways.

It even sounds ridiculous. Aren’t high school and college supposed to form a bit of a bridge into the professional league? Players are going before him — players who have achieved nowhere near as much as Tebow on the field — because of his throwing motion.

They say he holds the ball too low; that it will be easy to knock it out. But the reality is other players in the league have unorthodox throwing motions, and they have had MVP calibre seasons. And when the ball is in a quarterback’s hands, no matter where they hold it, it is easy to knock it out for a fumble.

Somehow, the last few words in the video seem to sum it all up perfectly.

I watched the NFL draft last night — my first live draft, despite following the game for years. It was the 75th anniversary, and it was more exciting than I anticipated. Although it did last for a long, long time.

Of course, there were some predictable picks. Sam Bradford going first to the St. Louis Rams was about as safe a bet as could be. But there were trades, and surprises, and uncommonly big drops for some uncommonly talented athletes.

One of the biggest was Dez Bryant, the top receiver in the draft, who fell to the mid-twenties — and wasn’t even the first receiver taken. And Jimmy Clausen, who, by many of the so-called experts, was predicted to go within the first 10 picks, fell right out of the entire round.

I suppose it shows just how important character is to NFL teams and coaches now. They don’t want their players to run dogfighting rings; they don’t want their players to cause rifts in the locker room; and they want a quarterback – a leader – who the team and the organisation can believe in, even when things get tough.

But the pick I am happiest about, and the player I am most excited about, is Tim Tebow. Here’s a guy who is regarded by many as the very best college player in the history of the game. He had 80 scholarships out of high school, and had a phenomenal college career — and, what, because he throws the football in a bit of an unconventional way, he’s suddenly going to be a failure?

Sounds like rubbish to me. I said all along he would be a first round pick, and I took pleasure in saying “I told you so!” to my friends who were so adamant he wouldn’t get drafted till much later.

It’s going to be a lot of fun following his career. Something tells me the critics will be eating their words before too long.

This week, the NFL combine got underway: the players are being measured and weighed, timed and tested. But the biggest story of all, and the most intriguing story, and the most hotly debated story is Tim Tebow.

He is a man who set college football on fire with his athleticism, his power, his jump-throws, his leadership, and his impressive dual-threat ability: the man who is widely considered to be the greatest collegiate football player ever, now, for perhaps the first time, is doubted.

But now, because he has a strange throwing motion, he’s doubted. Questioned, because he played in a shotgun, spread offense at university; he’s doubted because it’s not what they look for. They doubt whether he’ll be able to play the game at a professional level because … well, because of what? Because he throws the ball in a way that doesn’t follow the book?

Ok.

I find this to be the most interesting thing about the NFL. Every year, players are doubted. Some don’t make it, not like they’d like to. Others defy odds and critics, and go on to be incredibly successful. Jerry Rice was doubted because of his speed. Maurice Jones-Drew was doubted because of his stature. But why? Why would criticise someone for their height, when short players, slight players have had success before? Look at Barry Sanders. Look at DeSean Jackson.

I would not bet against Tim Tebow. He’s just too much of a fiery, determined monster on that field. And this video sums up precisely why I think he will make it, and enjoy a successful career in the league.

In my mind, it is ridiculous to say someone is not going to be a good NFL quarterback because of their technique. Everywhere, athletes excel with “bad” technique. Michael Johnson broke the mould, Usain Bolt is breaking the mold, Walter Payton held the ball in an unorthodox way, Chris Johnson runs upright.

Tim Tebow is arguably and very probably the best college football player ever. He dominated in high school, he dominated at university, and now he can’t make it as a pro? Seems like flawed logic to me. It will be interesting to see, if he does make it, how many of these naysayers will be all-too quick to say: I knew it! I knew he’d make it all along!

Something tells me that there will be many who do.

It occurred to me today, as I sat there watching The Replacements, that the film has never been as fitting as it was on this day. From some of the characters, to the story itself, it is almost a tale of real life.

It is a film about professional American football, and there is a disagreement between the players and owners, causing the players to go on strike. The Washington Sentinels, a fictional team, recruit prisoners, bouncers and fishermen to form a team of replacement players, and hilarity ensues.

But it’s a tale of real life because, at present, the NFL is currently in a similar sort of shadow. There is a disagreement between the owners and the Players Association in real life, too. And while it is accepted now that an uncapped year is probably going to happen next year, the prospect of football after next season is filled with worry.

Things will get a bit crazy unless the owners and players come to an extension agreement. There will be no salary cap on player contracts, and after that, if an agreement is still not reached down the line, there could be strikes, or there could even be a lockout: no NFL season whatsoever.

The owners have somehow injected a rule in the current contract that they will get paid, even if there is a lockout. Which seems slightly unfair. And the players don’t want to take a 20% pay cut.

To me, it’s all a little bit ludicrous. When you’re earning tens of millions of dollars – and in some cases, hundreds of millions – what difference does 20% make? You’re still being paid to play the game you love for a living. And even the very worst salaries are the stuff of dreams to us mere mortals.

But then, I suppose, like one character says in The Replaements: do you know how much insurance costs on a Ferrari?

Ladainian Tomlinson, the future Hall of Fame NFL running back, was cut by the San Diego Chargers earlier this week. Everyone knew it was coming. It was inevitable. But why?

Even LT himself, when he spoke to the media, didn’t seem to have been informed why he had been released.

It was heartbreaking to see him break down up on that podium, and if you couldn’t hear it in his voice, you could see it in his eyes: he loved San Diego – still does, in fact – and he wanted, more than anything, to win a Super Bowl with his team; the team that picked him, the team that he helped transform into a perennial playoff contender.

It’s the horrible, haunting bump in the road for running backs: the 30-year mark. Some manage to overcome it; the few, rare players; and some haven’t taken too much of a beating in the early part of their careers, and can plough onwards. But Tomlinson’s stats had declined, and he was due to make a lot of money.

Tomlinson has been one of the finest running backs in the history of the NFL: he is the fastest player ever to reach 150 career touchdowns, and he has compiled them with brilliant and often dazzling runs. But he also catches the ball a lot. He’s has a better career as a receiver than some wide receivers themselves, racking up nearly 4,000 yards. That’s a lot of punishment, on top of carrying the load on the ground.

The curious thing is, he still has plenty left in the tank. Certainly, whenever I’ve seen him play this year, he’s seemed quick, more explosive than much of last season. But he has been slowed down by injury on occasions.

He’ll find a team, at some point or another. And he’ll contribute, and help them on their quest for the trophy. It will be interesting to see if this decision comes back to haunt San Diego.

Sometimes, sport – and in this case, football – can be a stage for us to view the changes society has undergone over the years. Football is just a good example of it, because there have been so many interesting stories recently.

In the past, for example, a player wouldn’t necessarily fly home from their tour of duty, or miss matches to spend time with their wife or their children. It seems to be happening everywhere now, though.

Manchester City have given Carlos Tevez permission to fly back to Argentina to be there for the birth of his child, and they are a team that is battling for a place in the top-four and in the Champions League. Now they’ll have to do without their prolific top scorer for a while.

John Terry, who has had a lot of marital trouble recently flew out of the country to find and talk to his woman, too.

I think that, increasingly, the father is being seen as a hugely important figure in society. The father is just as key as the mother: it is important to have him there, in the early stages of a child’s life. And it’s reflected in football; it’s reflected in all sport.

There might be a story in the news about it, briefly, when the player first goes away, but it is soon forgotten. It’s accepted, it seems, and an entirely natural thing. It’s certainly interesting to think about.