I am coming second in footy tipping. However, being a footy nuffy, I often pinch my tips from the Swinburne Computer. My sister – the resident footy guru – doesn’t seem fazed by this. What she is giving me grief over is my confession that I didn’t get my tips in in time twice this season and put them in secretly on a Monday morning. I should add to this statement that I spent the two weekends concerned oblivious to any results – any results on anything. I was under media blackout with no paper, television or radio. Actually, more to the point, I wouldn’t have confessed to her what I’d done if I had cheated. Now it has all come to bite me on the arse. I did last week-but-one’s tips straight out of my own brain and did wildly well. The week prior to that I picked every team in the left hand column and screamed home again. Now I’m coming second, my sister cannot hide her disgust and keeps on bringing up the fact that I cheated. And not only did I cheat, I cheated twice. It’s like we have reverted back to being 11 and nine again; of course she didn’t give a toss when she was ahead.