Something us English do well is suddenly become interested in something when we are doing well at it.
I include myself in this terrible fickleness because i am planning to be within sight of a television screen tonight to watch our boys take on the Springboks in the final of the Rugby World Cup.
Where once were just posh fat men jumping on each other while clutching a (or each others) funny shaped balls, now our finely honed athletes are bravely giving there all for their fellow countrymen.
Personally, the rugby World Cup only came within my radar when we somehow made it into the Quarter Final and the imminent clash with the sheep worrying Aussies loomed over the horizon.
All i know about rugby is man gets oval shaped ball, man gets hit by larger man. Continue until a big man manages to fall over behind the posts. Simple really.
So i will be there staring at a screen and willing on the fat men dressed in white because we are doing well and us English are great at getting behind our sporting heroes.
Of course, if after 10 mins we are behind and getting our arses spanked by the South Africans we will all switch over en masse to Strictly Come Dancing.
We are fickle like that.