TIMING is everything, whether you're batting, hitting golf balls or telling jokes.

Although Bob Hope, who reached his century yesterday, was born in London he never played cricket because he moved to America 96 years ago and became a four-handicap golfer and scratch comedian.

"I'd give up golf if I didn't have so many sweaters," he joked, adding: "On one hole I hit an alligator so hard he's now my golf bag."

He inaugurated the Bob Hope Desert Classic in 1965 and last played in it at the age of 96, but for the last year he has been confined to quarters.

He is a man whose 100th birthday is worth celebrating because he has been a true celebrity, a point worth making when David Beckham is the most famous sportsman in the world with Phil Tufnell close behind.

Beckham is to follow up his audience with Nelson Mandela by meeting Kofi Annan on Manchester United's summer tour of the United States. Whether he has heard of the United States secretary-general is another matter.

THE timing of Durham County Cricket Club's press release on Wednesday afternoon was perfect if its purpose was to raise my hackles.

Durham were 26 for six, having already lost Martin Love for three weeks with a broken thumb, but the nightmare intensified with the news that Tufnell was to appear in Newcastle the following day to encourage people to attend the inaugural Test match at Chester-le-Street next week.

I had just seen Jimmy Anderson, freshly-labelled the David Beckham of cricket, take three wickets with modest bowling and now came another mind-boggling example of worshipping at the altar of celebrity.

My views on Tufnell have become tiresome. But I find it absolutely staggering that he should be wheeled out in a last-ditch effort to make sure the first three days of an historic occasion are sold out.

I don't know what his fee is. If it's tuppence ha'penny then it's too much. Yet the ECB are prepared to waste money on him at a time when they can no longer afford to run county board XIs.

Why didn't they go a step further and bring on Lee Bowyer as well? He doesn't play cricket, but he grabs headlines for all the wrong reasons and he's about to bring his celebrity status to the North-East.

Perhaps the marketing gurus are saving him for a season ticket push at St James' Park. Such an angelic creature should be able to persuade everyone to make a trip to the footie a family outing.

THEN there's the Olympic bid. No rogues or debauched characters fronting this hugely ambitious attempt to salvage national pride, with none other than Mrs Blair being tipped for the job.

The fact that she employs a lifestyle guru with a dodgy boyfriend helps to pitch her into celebrity class, so she's probably a better bet than the clean-living and little-known Sir Steve Redgrave.

Being so close to the PM, however, Cherie must know that our chances will be severely dented by the sort of political voting which earned us nil (or was it nul?) points in the Eurovision warbling farce.

The Olympic bid is certainly attracting contrasting reactions. The positive thinkers and spin merchants believe it will give the country a tremendous boost and encourage youngsters to become hugely active; others fear the opposite.

The cynics have a legitimate point when they argue that with Lottery funding already falling, the money available to minority sports will be further hit by the sheer cost of the Olympic bid.

So by the time we get round to staging the games in 2012 a lot of grass roots sport will have withered and died and our medal haul will be an embarrassment.

STILL, we can beat Zimbabwe at cricket. Never mind looking ahead to how we can come close to competing in the next Ashes series, let's keep picking Alec Stewart to give Robert Mugabe's representatives a good thrashing.

I tuned in for two overs on Saturday evening and saw Grant Flower watch four successive balls from Stephen Harmison pass by well outside off stump, then discovered that Mark Butcher was bowling at the other end. I switched off even faster than I'd left the room the previous night when Tufnell appeared on Jonathan Ross's idle chat show.

Quite what Anthony McGrath's debut achieved is beyond me. Now that he is perceived to be a success, the selectors will have to go on picking him. But what happens when the far more exciting Andrew Flintoff is fit?

It would have made far more sense to blood a young batsman. After all, if the ECB Academy is to have any purpose then some of its batting graduates must surely be given the opportunity to step up quickly, especially against modest opposition.