Butt out!

Sport is cursed by older men blundering around the edges, talking when they should keep quiet and always imagining because they are rich and experienced in the buying and selling of heavy woollen goods or the movement of oil from Iran to the Far East that they have something to offer those who play.

Thus Giles Clarke, chairman of the ECB, an entrepreneur grown successful by his own hard work and initiative, spreading his wealth and bellowing his way to the top of the tree.

"I am sure," he says, "that Kevin Pietersen will score two double centuries in the Ashes series," and expects that - if KP achieves such an unlikely feat - these words of wisdom will stand as his claim to fame for more than a double century in years.

"No pressure there then," giggled my best friend. "No help either," I muttered.

Clarke cannot see, apparently, that Pietersen is still ruffled by having the captaincy whipped away from him, bearing the pain of an injured Achilles tendon and the trauma which naturally follows a run of - by KP standard - low scores.

My betting is that he wonders if he is as good as he thought, that he turns constantly to those close to him for reassurance and that the last push he needs is one for outrageous exaggeration from someone who condoned the orders that relieved him of a job he cherished.

Please understand me. I have a feeling that although I wish Michael Vaughan - another lost soul - were fit and likely to make two double hundreds in the Ashes, that in time Andrew Strauss will grow into the job and that if he has a fare wind and Pietersen makes a couple of single centuries he could even win back the Ashes.

England have a little momentum, a bright lad in Ravi Bopara, an intelligent young bowler in Stuart Broad and a newly adult pack leader in James Anderson. The signs are bright, especially as Australia will be without Andrew Symonds, a gifted all-rounder who the greatest gift for finding trouble since Paul Gascoigne first drew breath.

However it is a fragile strength and you can see monumental failure as easily as you can guess at success.

So Mr. Clarke, just butt out, keep your ill-judged remarks to yourself and have some respect for the tender feelings of sportsmen who may look tough, may perform athletic feats we normal types cannot contemplate, but who are often frail in the temperament, prone to moments of self-doubt and sometimes just want to be left to find their own salvation.