Thanks heavens for the qualities possessed by our country’s intrepid tabloid journalists.

Without them, the fact that a football player cheated on his pop star wife might never have been brought to our attention, and I will at this point take a brief pause from typing to cross myself. 

There, done. So anyway, that awful, pathetic excuse for a human being known as Ashley Cole has finally, thanks to the qualities possessed by those oh so intrepid tabloid journalists, met his sticky end. 

“Good for her, she can do a lot better than that piece of bleep,” I think I can hear someone screeching out of a radio somewhere, followed by self-satisfied murmurs of agreement. 

Cheryl Cole is the next Lady Diana. 

From toothy beginnings as a contestant in a game show aimed at creating temporary C list celebrities, she has shrugged off the shackles of assaulting a female lavatory attendant to become a temporary A list celebrity who hosts a game show aimed at creating C list celebrities. 

She’s also fairly attractive, in case by some fit of flawed cynicism you doubted her suitability for the position of ‘England’s Rose’. 

Ashley Cole, whose name I am loath to type, especially for a second time, is a hideous ogre. His pitiful achievements on this planet run as follows. Twice winner of the FA Premier League, five times FA Cup winner, one League Cup and 77 England caps. Great. 

Even if you then ignore multiple minor run-ins with the law, he has now committed the greatest crime of all. Cheating. 

Why do we tolerate cheats? There should be a public database containing their addresses so we can take the kids out on a Sunday and pelt eggs at their door. 

All I can hang on to is the merciful truth that I have never, ever known anyone who has cheated on anyone. 

What is more, thankfully, I have never been even slightly attracted to another woman whilst in a relationship. If you were to rate the hypocrisy of me criticising  Ashley (spit) out of 10, it would be zero. Or at most, one. 

But thank heavens for the qualities possessed by our country’s intrepid journalists.

I suppose it is unfortunate that they have ensured that yet another of England’s best players will be locking horns with the media for the foreseeable future, causing them constant distractions in this, a World Cup year. 

And yet more unfortunate that, in a country where divorce rates are already sky high, they have fast tracked one of the highest profile marriages in the country to a conclusion that is now, inevitably, going to become fashionable. 

But at least everyone else who hates Ashley Cole will definitely be buying papers