Only the BBC could make such a huge song and dance about a new series that isn't actually new at all, just they couldn't be bothered making it for a few years.

"We're asking the questions you want answered," she pouted.

The main one being, why are you insulting our intelligence with this drivel?

The question can only be, why has the Beeb chucked huge sums of our cash at bringing someone over from a station that kept Robbie Earle and let her go?

We started big, an interview with John Terry, Chelsea and England captain and professional sobber. I don't know what the cameraman was on and I don't know about the Blues, but it was more like NYPD Blue, the camera as wobbly as Ozzy Osbourne on a bouncy castle.

More arty shots, making sure gorgeous Gab was in the background, but then all but her head disappeared as the black backdrop made her invisible apart from her lovely face.

The interview ended, only it didn't, as Gabby offered John a lift, and we had talk of his time inside (all 22 hours of it), his idyllic family life and all sorts of other rubbish we didn't know or care about.

On came the world's most excited man, Steve Bunce, to tell us that 22 hours must have seemed like a life sentence, but a merciful release because he wouldn't have had to sit through 45 minutes of Inside Sport.

Then, with BBC remit in mind, we had a feature on yachting, and the smell of halibut wafting across the studio failed to inspire the Daily Mail's Des Kelly, who said what we were all thinking - we don't give a monkeys about yachting.

"The crowd will all be standing drinking Pimms and looking the other way," he said as you could hear the dull thud of BBC executives fainting in panic.

The BBC's Sports Editor Mihir Bose (good stereos, by the way), came on to tell us some vague rumours and we rounded off with a trip to Sepp Blatter.

A veritable Aladdin's Cave of footie memorabilia and what did he pick out - a childish painting, apparently by his grand-daughter, but if you looked closely I think the signature was D. Beckham.

No doubt Gab will be out to L.A. to have a chat before long.

Big mouth, little sense

Deep breath. This will hurt. Well done Scousers. There, I've said it, let's move on, no more whining reminders that 'we've won it five times'.

And my defence of the Reds continues with Jose Mourinho's pathetic comments before their game last week.

What was the Special One at when he called them a 'little club'?

Even Steven Gerrard couldn't resist rubbing his nose in it after the semi-final.

"But there you go, a little club that has got to two European Cup finals in three years. Not too bad, eh!," he said.

Good work, Jose.

Chelsea were almost as bad as United the following evening when the Kak hit the San, but then again we have a wee league title to look at (get in!). At least Fergie admitted we were rubbish and deserved exactly what we got.

Mourinho moaned: "You could see two teams there and the only team that wanted to win was the team in blue."

More of a brown tinge, I think.

Is it Jeff or Jeffrey on cup final day?

I KNOW BBC Northern Ireland is still smarting from losing the Northern Ireland rights, but it was a bit much for Jeff Stelling to muscle in on their Irish Cup coverage on Saturday.

I thought I'd hit the remote control by mistake when Jackie, Joel and co. were replaced, albeit temporarily, by Sky's Soccer Saturday, but normal (or is that abnormal) service resumed soon after.

I was just glad we had any match at all. Such was it's importance to the Beeb that it was banished to BBC2 between the horse trials and the snooker.

Several equines strewn across the hyphen-laden world of Badminton was perhaps a subliminal message to us all - you can't flog a dead horse.

It meant a whopping 15 minutes of build-up, where else in the world would you get it?

It was all change in the Beeb team, Jackie in the studio with Chris Morgan and Marty Quinn, while Crusaders' boss Stephen Baxter jumped in beside Joel Taggart in the commentary booth, and Thomas Kane in for Mark Sidebottom. Perhaps given his geographical difficulties in Liechtenstein recently, he was actually standing on his own at the Oval fully expecting that the final wouldn't be played at Linfield's home ground. Silly boy.

It took 21 seconds for Joel's first stat of the day, and about 22 before Stephen's first of many clangers. A team-sheet may have been useful as Dungannon's Ryan McCluskey was first called the left-back and as he grasped frantically for a name he decided to fob us off with No.22.

As the first Linfield goal went in soon after I was about to try and find Lucinda Chinless-Horsebox but I had to stay.

And it was worth of it for one moment of gold, big Davy and Shane (or Sean as Stephen called him) McCabe going at it, exchanging pleasantries with the Dungannon player doing a Harvey Smith, minus a digit.

Help, help it's Healy making a pitstop

I've had a nagging itch that just won't go away and has had me scratching around in my head for months.

Every time Setanta frontman Felix Healy laughed in that manic way of his it reminded me of someone and I just couldn't put my finger on it.

Then, in an all too rare flash of inspiration and a flicking onto one of the cartoon channels, brought me the answer.

If, like myself, you had a bit of a thing for Penelope Pitstop (I was a sad and lonely child) then you would be well acquainted with the evil that was the Hooded Claw. Linfield seem to bring out the worst in Felix, barely hiding his disdain as the Blues booked their place in the Setanta Cup final on Monday night and doing his best Claw impression.

The Derry air on this occasion was a huge sigh let out by the man with a 'tache that you could have hidden all the members of the Ant Hill Mob in.

He also had a wee dig that Linfield play all their finals at Windsor and that the last time he was there he needed a bodyguard. Help, help, send for the Bully Brothers.

The final word

Can someone at Sky Sports do the decent thing and give us a wee bit of a clue when their live boxing will actually take place.

Billed as the latest fight of the century, Floyd Mayweather against Oscar de la Hoya started at 2am and we had to sit through almost three hours of boredom before we finally got to see it and, not wishing to be a grouch, I had Oscar winning it, mainly because I fell asleep after the third round.