Kuchar collapse leaves me desperate for a government bailout

Every passing week brings me closer to the conclusion that punting and marriage are a match made in hell.

Some things are meant to go together. Fish and chips. Bacon and eggs. Jelly and ice cream. Vodka and tonic. Marks and Spencer. Laurel and Hardy. Trees and insects (okay, I'm struggling a bit now). But punting and marriage are a terrible fit.

And it is not just for the obvious reason that doing your conkers punting is a recipe for disaster in a formal union of resources. There is more to it than that. A strong punter needs to have focus - markets and betting opportunities move as quick as Usain ruddy Bolt these days - and marriage takes your eye off the ball.