I WAS chatting to a friend this morning and asked about her kids.

She told me they were both doing well at school and while one had taken up music the other daughter was more ‘sporty.’ They are nice young girls and I asked if the ‘sporty’ one had joined a sports team or athletic club.

“No, she doesn’t like that sort of sport,” her mother explained.

I was a mite puzzled so I asked what kind of sports activity she preferred.

“Like the ones at school sports days where there are no winners or losers and everyone is applauded for taking part.”

Apparently her school doesn’t think it’s appropriate to have winners as the rest of the participants may struggle to cope with being left behind.

I was tempted to ask how that was going to work out when she gets rejected from the university she wants to attend or the job she applied for but I thought better of it.

Seems to me like we hate winning.

The most loathed football club in Alex Ferguson’s sensational reign was Manchester United for no other reason than their unassailable success.

Our cycling team sweated blood for decades to win the Tour de France and when they finally did the manger was publicly castigated for ‘bullying’.

How in heavens name did they think he was getting them over the winning line?

“Ooh peddle a bit slower if your legs are aching.”

The moment Mo Farah became a world champion distance runner we were suggesting he might be a drug cheat – which he wasn’t of course.

We weren’t even comfortable with home grown Lewis Hamilton being a five-times Formula One Champion.

Surely that was something to celebrate?

Apparently not.

Having been accepted as a true Brit all his life suddenly people started questioning his nationality.

What the hell is wrong with us?

We are definitely uncomfortable when we win.

Coming second is acceptable and third is okay but, boy, are we great losers.

Lewis Hamilton would have been carried aloft from city to city if he had never won a single race.

Remember Eddie the Eagle the most useless, accident-prone ski jumper ever to make it to the Olympics.

We loved him, he was a national hero and he won…nothing, not a thing, rock all.

If Abba had been a British band their best song would have been The Loser Takes it All.

Thanks God our grandparents were made of sterner stuff.