PECULIAR THIS. When the returning officer for the constituency of Tatton in the northwest of England announced, in the early hours of Friday morning, that Tory Neil Hamilton had lost his seat to the Beeb's Martin Bell the camera zoomed in to show us the simmering expression on the face of Neil's now famous wife, Christine.

"Spooky - we've seen that expression somewhere else this week," said us sporting fans. "But where?" we wondered.

It was a unique facial expression, one that forms after large dollops of egg dribble off the chin and land on the floor. One that the owner of the face is forced to wear after guaranteeing a landslide victory for one candidate . . . only to see the other do rather well, thank-you-very-much.

So who wore that Christine expression earlier in the week? Think, think. Martin Bell 29,354, Neil Hamilton 18,277 (and he didn't even win a penalty) ... Romania 1, Republic of Ireland 0. The constituency of Montrose. DUNPHY! Eamon Dunphy. The Christine Hamilton of football punditry.

While Christine had confidently predicted that the voters of Tatton would send Martin Bell packing, Eamon was similarly buoyant about Romania's prospects of thrashing Mick McCarthy (oh, and the Irish team) on Wednesday.

Remember? Before the match: "I didn't think McCarthy could sink any lower in my estimation, but this is the stupidest team selection imaginable . . . we will be torn apart this afternoon," he predicted.

And if Eamon had received cash for every question he tabled about McCarthy's integrity, sure he'd make young Tiger look like a pauper. "This guy hasn't got a clue what he's at, except manipulating public opinion and the FAI to get a longer contract," he allegedly alleged.

"He knows there's a perception out there that the players are too old and he knows that if he can make that perception a reality by dropping them, and putting young guys in, he'll be forgiven the bad results he's getting. That's his game he's a manipulator of public opinion through the press.

Some of the viewers at home didn't appreciate this kind of talk at all and rang in to register their complaints. Didn't bother Eamon. He'd as much time for them as Christine had for the voters of Tatton in the early hours of Friday morning.

"What do they want? We're not supporters, we're adults. Look, there's an intelligent football audience out there, if bingo's your game forget it .. . too many bingo watchers.

"What's your prediction?" asked presiding officer Bill O'Herlihy. "Four nothing," growled Eamon. "For Romania?" "What do you think Bill?"

So, as the 22 (or two little ducks, quack, quack, quack as us bingo fans put it) players took to the field, we feared the worst. But, at half-time: "Well, I have to say Eamon Dunphy, it wasn't quite the Dooms-day scenario that you envisaged."

"Romania have played rather poorly, Ireland have played very well . . . it's been a much different game than I expected, we haven't been torn apart in any sense," said Eamon whose facial expression was just beginning to take on Christine-like proportions.

Full-time. Bill: "Eamon, your judgment on tonight?" "Ah, I think it's alright really - Stephen Alkin and Ray Treacy are happy. They see a lot of hope, it's a moral victory," he said, a little stunned that there had been any kind of victory, at all.

Then Eamon left us bingo fans every puzzled indeed. "Major question why didn't that team play against Macedonia, with that formation?" Pardon? Why didn't "the stupidest team selection imaginable" play against Macedonia? Ah here, let's go back to bingo - this football lark is far too complicated for us simple folk.

Neither Christine nor Eamon were spotted at the 100th Rugby League Challenge Cup at Wembley on Saturday, which is a pity because the pre-match entertainment would have taken their minds off things and maybe even cheered them up a little.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please give a Wembley welcome to a star performer who has entertained audiences all over the world from the 1970's right through to the present day," shrieked the Master of Ceremonies. Oooh. Michael Jackson? Bruce Springsteen? Charlie Landsborough? "Let's hear it for the one and only EDWIN STARR." "Who?" replied 65,000 St Helen's and Bradford Bulls' fans.

Now some of us can remember being entertained by Edwin, soul singer-extraordinaire, in the late 1970's and maybe even the early 1980's, but not really a whole lot since then. And to see him entertaining the likes of Horace and Mabel Chattlehorn, St Helen's fans, with tunes such as Eye to Eye Contact (containing rude lyrics suggesting things Horace and Mabel might do with their bodies) was very bizarre indeed.

It got even more bizarre when, while Edwin was still grooving, there began a parade of vintage cars, containing vintage Rugby League players, around the ground. First out was Batley Bulldogs' chairman Trevor Hobson who looked very mortified by the whole thing.

Then, up on the screen, came a picture of former great Jack Harrison who, commentator Ray French proudly told us, was the only rugby league professional to be awarded a VC medal. Fine, except in the background Edwin was singing his most famous tune War, which goes something like this War, huh, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing". And the BBC are usually so good at choosing the right tune to accompany pictures.

Next up was Shola Ama. She's very nearly famous apparently. "Howya doing Wembley? Tell me something - does anybody hear need somebody?" she asked. Around 30,000 Bradford Bulls' lads replied, but some things are too rude to be printed. Next. Paul Young, with his new single. Except we couldn't hear a line of it because it was drowned outs by roars of "C'MON YOU BULLS" so Paul gave up and went to have a word with his agent about the unsuitability of the venues he picks for him. The match? Ah, it was alright, but how could you follow Edwin, Shola and Paul. (Wonder what Eddie Waring would have made of it all?).