Sticky Wicket.

Let's Call a Spade a Spade, Shall We? is proud to team up with Don't Shoot the Messenger to bring you a souvenir edition to mark England's defeat to Sarth Efrica by several thousand runs.

Potential future employers may not wish to look away now, but I'd rather you did.

What is this garbage?

It's an advertisement in this Sunday's papers for NatWest Bank, presumably attempting to cash in - which is what banks do - on its sponsorship of cricket, that greatest of all team games, although it is modest about saying so.

It ticks just about every box in the politically-correct yet sell-your grandmother lexicon of big business today:

Firstly, you may notice something that is becoming the norm: the main photograph studiously features a person of indeterminate ethnic origin. (We've "moved on" from the odd black or Asian face: far too challenging; why, people may actually form opinions! We did try but unfortunately we all ended up hating each other, or would have done had we not been blessed with white European immigrants whom we're permitted to hate instead without being called "racist". Wiser by far to picture someone who, to paraphrase Theresa May, could be anyone - and ends up being comfortably no-one.)

Then, having laid this mushy, swampy foundation, down to patriotic business with a mawkish appeal to an admittedly rather apt shame-faced patriotism ... "This game is different. Just like the country it comes from. Our island of individuality." Yeah, RIGHT: where we all - individually, of course - are proud to follow liars, dissemblers and, NatWest clearly hopes, the shining example of international banking! ... "Where we ... champion the lucky and defend the underdog." That underdog being ourselves, of course, as we are inexplicably and unreasonably bullied by horrid, backward Europeans. It must be us: we certainly don't seem to give a cuss for anyone else.

Yet there's still time for a Goebbelesque, straight-up lobotomising beamer of a lie ("Not a country of small minds ...") followed by that limp but eternal excuse for philistinism ("... but of big hearts.") - the kind of phrase often heard at international football tournaments as England crash out to one of the United Nations' newer members who nonetheless seem to play another game we invented more intelligently than we do.

And how about this for bottom-of-the-pond relativism: "And, even if you're the odd one out, you can still be in." To which the absolute (relatively speaking) clincher is added: "Or out." Precisely. Relatively speaking.

As for "Cricket has no boundaries." Well, yes it does, actually. Two of which are: how you hold the bat and your stance at the crease. So cut the crap and have a word about technique with that poor young lady of who-knows-where, whom you've either roped in to your squalid little game or exploited by buying her off a picture agency.

Sickening stuff. But, as NatWest tell us, we are what we do.