With such splendid form under his belt an invitation to saddle up for a traditional Royal fox hunt can’t be too far away. The photograph of Alastair resplendent in faux-military uniform, complete with shiny jackboots, releasing the starving hounds will undoubtedly make many an English tabloid heart swell.
What I’m most looking forward to are his future holiday snaps. Imagine a grinning, beanie clad Alastair displaying his superior masculinity clubbing Harp seal cubs on the frozen ice in Canada and harpooning Humpback whale calves in the Southern Ocean.
They obviously breed hard men down Essex way and it’s disapointing that my almost forgotten ancestors from Southern England never brought their lust for bloodsports with them when they eloped to New South Wales nine score and seven years ago.
If they had I might have inherited the ignorance to rid myself of the pademelon grazing on the lawn, the echidna rutting in the shed and those pesky possums scratching up the towering gum in the backyard