Once more we delve into the annual Brett Ellis column awards breach my friends, so, without further ado, your candidates are:

Anti-boss of the year: A close call between the only Musk you would not want to wear, Elon, and the Union kingpin Mick, Grinch, nay, Lynch. Using tactics designed to dispense with niceties, the Tesla boss was found wanting upon entering the Twitterspehere and Mick took the Michael dispensing misery on hard pressed commuters for the umpteenth time as he demanded a pay rise of 850 per cent, or such, for his militant members.

Concert of the year: The true rock and roll God is dead, or so we thought, but out of the Oasis in the distance rose ‘r kid’, Liam, to smash the doors off Knebworth for a couple of nights in the summer as he breathed the kiss of life into the genre. Sadly, the organisers did not heed the call as us punters were shunted on foot for miles on end through the dark once they had made a successful cash grab.

Irritants of the year: A dual award going to ‘Just Stop Oil!’ And ‘Extinction Rebellion’. One must wonder how their planning meeting went. ‘Hey guys, we need to save the environment! How can we get the public on board?’ ‘Yes Tarquin, a great idea! Let us superglue our faces to the M4, throw oil-based paint on priceless works of art and hang from motorway gantries to stop folk going about their business as cars sit idle and choke up the atmosphere. That ought to work….’

The crisis, what crisis? Award: Goes to the political environment as they repeatedly fell into a barrel of nipples and came up sucking their thumbs. Boris partied his way out of number 10, followed by Truss who had based her plan for the economy on a Dianne Abbott afterthought, before Rishi took the reigns safe in the knowledge there is a few hundred mill in the bank for when the inevitable happens. Meanwhile Rome, or Widnes, or Hastings burned: Inflation skyrocketed, along with mortgages, electric, gas, petrol and water bills and, as we waited for a glimmer of hope, a savour if you will, despite causing the mess by their ineptitude, we were advised to ‘use less energy’ which was a call sadly not heeded by Matt Hancock. He committed Hari Kari on his political career for a few quid and an appearance on’ I’m a celebrity’ where we watched him snaffle animal genitals to make him as sick as many of us felt viewing his attempted public redemption.

Event of the year: The sad passing of the Queen, and the collective show of national pride and unity not seen since Euro 96. Royalist or nay, few can deny hers was a life of unflinching public service with very few missteps over her lifetime, as she blazed an example of fortitude that will never be repeated.

Ruined legacy of the year award: Ronaldo. Despite arrogantly claiming himself to be the GOAT, he bleated as to how he was mistreated by his employers, Manchester United, despite them paying him over half a million weekly. My heart only stopped bleeding for the poor love when he claimed a goal in the World Cup that was not his, prior to tearfully trudging off the world stage once and for all courtesy of Morocco.

And so, to the big one: The ‘person’ of the year: For a change, this year’s blue riband award goes not to an individual and, for the first time, not to someone identifying as male. Take a bow the footballing Lionesses: In our collective lowest national ebb, when all hope was gone and we worried about our futures, as bills rose and politicians disappeared, you came good with little fuss. We watched on in pride as you steamrolled your way through Europe’s finest to take the crown and bring us a little joy in what has been an annibulus horriblus. Let’s hope 2023 hits a more positive upward trajectory, akin to Harry Kane’s penalty which was last spotted still in flight somewhere over the Pacific Ocean….

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