I only do it for the money!

A particularly lazy friend of mine last week boasted in front of a few of us that he'd managed to do a single day's work and was now quite tired. At that point, another friend, one very over-worked and lifeless friend, replied "what do you want, a f***ing medal or something?" Judging by the state of our current society, he probably did. Nowadays it seems as though everyone believes they're owed much more praise than they're given for something they do that hardly deserves any praise at all.

For my first example, I refer, as is often the case in arguments like this, to the world of sport. Fifty years ago, in not a single sport, aside from the Olympics (where the medal system is flawless but the events themselves need to be reconsidered, I believe), was there a constant barrage of praise rained down upon the athletes competing in them. Nobody was ever idolised and worshipped. A star player never suffered from colonic-tongue syndrome thanks to the media. I don't even think star players existed, because back in those days it was results that were celebrated, not individuals.

In these modern times, however, it seems that if someone does something right in their particular sport they are known up and down the nation as a "hero". That's a word that's loosely thrown about a bit, these days. An arthritic old man jumping into a lion cage to save a class of children is a hero. A woman who cuts a pouch into her body to protect her baby from a fire is a hero. Jade Goody's cervical cancer is a hero. But a footballer? No, I don't think so.

Before you decide to refer to whoever scored a goal this weekend for your team as a hero, remember this; while you spend ten hours a day sat behind a desk doing paperwork that will never be read, not receiving the slightest bit of praise for it and being paid a mediocre salary, the person you're about to call a hero is receiving national acclaim for doing something he is paid £100,000-a-week to do, yet barely manages to do it once a month. Therefore he's not a hero: he's a second-rate employee.

In 500 years, when England next wins the Ashes, I hope that instead of calling them heroes, the people of England just say "well, you took bloody long enough, didn't you?" I certainly hope English people in the future have a better long-term memory than English folk today. When England won the Ashes, our citizens were dancing in the streets and organising victory parades and showering general priase upon the 'heroic cricketers' (there's a term that doesn't make sense) and completely forgetting that for the previous 25 years the team had failed in every attempt to win that trophy. Epically failed. It's not even a decent trophy, it's some tiny bit of ornate balsa wood. And it's cricket, which officially "doesn't matter".

Of course, it isn't just sport where praise is unjustifiably requested, it's everywhere. Kids expect an awards ceremony every time they draw an appalling picture of some haggard, string-haired, hunchbacked stickman, so long as it reads "To the best _____ in the world" underneath it. Instead of just patting a dog's head or saying "good boy/girl" when teaching it a trick, now you have to entice it with dog treats, so when the dog finally learns how to do a backflip, it's too fat to perform. Even computers are at it; whenever you turn a modern PC or laptop on, it makes a "ta daa!" noise, as though it's performed some kind of magic trick. No, you've just turned on, we've barely scratched the surface of what you're supposed to do, let alone what you can magically do.

The problem is we're now a nation of over-achievers. With the right funding and facilities, both of which are readily and widely available nowadays, we could be just about anything. Therefore instead of a select few 'elite' citizens standing above the rest and saying "I'm special. I can do something you can't. Idolise me", we're all at a level height, all demanding the praise that's so prematurely thrown around.

In this day and age, it's rather quite difficult to stand out as an individual, but I'm trying my very best. And do you know what? I think I deserve a f***ing medal!

Until next time, my first-rate readers... ciao!