Blinky blimey, it's that time again. Not only was this the week that that BBC4 showed Planet Ping Pong, a one hour documentary on the sport of pings, it also marked the start of The New Season.

And I find that I'm sighing softly as I near September
-- Frank Sinatra, The September Of My Years

Officially week one: cue tonight's match, the first since Queenie turned 80. All rise for the return of Super Kev and his first competitive outing for the BT Defiants for, erm, around 13 years. He needed some time out, bless him. The lad did good tonight, though had to be reminded that it's now up-to-11, best-of-five, and not up-to-21, best-of-three as it was last century. Though we still shake hands after each game: it's the done thing.

Shockingly it looked at one point that our one point of the evening might be scored by Kev, then Andy and me got serious to leave us with a point apiece, entitling us (despite losing 7-3) to celebratory caramel smoothies at the Tiles.

After which huge amusement for yours truly when the car wouldn't respond to the keyless remote control. You ain't coming in here, sunny boy. Never mind, I'll use the ... oh, keyless, you say. One of the rear 'leccy windows is busted, fortunately, and so I was able to break in to my own motor, nobody paying any heed to the alarm. Slotted home the remote into the slot and off I tootled. What larks.