You might be broke in Glasgow, unemployed in London and abandoned by your loved one in Belfast. It may be raining frogs, relegation may already be certain, life may seem bereft of reason or purpose. Yet no matter how bad things are, console yourself with this: when you get out of bed in the morning you don't have to watch breakfast television in America. Watching breakfast TV in America is like being drowned in a vat of syrup. It is the place where irony goes to die, where context and intelligence are on a holiday that never seems to end. But like the proverbial monkey pecking at a typewriter, even the most mind‑numbing television show occasionally illuminates the human experience with Shakespearean clarity.
The appearance of Serena Williams on Good Morning America this week, in the aftermath of her tantrum at the US Open, was one such occasion. You can find it on YouTube but be warned: it is a deeply uncomfortable experience watching this proud, strong and intelligent women humbled as time and again she tries to talk about her new book only to have the host redirect the conversation back to her profanity-laced tirade against a line judge.
It is hard not to feel sorry for Williams, although there will be plenty who are disinclined to do so. After all, she has only herself to blame. She was the one who committed the original foot fault, the one who lost her temper, the one who when asked shortly thereafter if she would apologise to the lineswoman said: "An apology for ...? From me?"
What a difference a couple of days and an avalanche of public opprobrium makes. Suffice to say, the lineswoman in question has been in receipt of more apologies from Williams than she could possibly need. Indeed, the player has even offered to give her a big hug. As for Williams, she can only hope that people have short memories or that YouTube, where every embarrassing moment lives forever, goes out of business.
Alternatively, she could sit at home and quietly fume at her misfortune in participating in a sport where the line between conduct acceptable and unacceptable has not become blurred, there being others where the fortitude of those who make and enforce the rules lasts as long as it takes a football club to send a lawyer's letter.
If that sounds over-wrought, contrast the treatment of Williams with that of Eduardo da Silva of Arsenal, who, like Williams, brought his sport into disrepute with a very public flouting of its rules during last month's Champion's League qualifier against Celtic.
You could argue – as some of our myopic friends have – that Eduardo didn't dive, that he was brought down by Artur Boruc. Likewise, some have said that Williams was the victim of a bad call by a lineswoman with a "look at me" complex. Maybe all of the above is true, but even if it was the case that Eduardo and Williams were "innocent", this is hardly the point.
The point is the integrity of rules, the enforcement of the rules and the consequences should those who enforce them lack both consistency and courage.
In the case of Eduardo, Uefa has shown itself to be spineless as, first, it promised to "investigate" the accusations of diving against the Arsenal player, then imposed a two-match ban and then overturned the ban on appeal.
Contrast this with the conduct of the US Open's tournament referee, Brian Earley, who stepped on to the court last Saturday night knowing that Williams's immediate future in the tournament was at stake but that so was the credibility of the sport. It was a big moment and he didn't flinch: she was out.
You might think that this was a punishment too far, but look where we are today – the United States Tennis Association is being held up a model of good sporting governance while Uefa, once again, is the target of ridicule. Eduardo, meanwhile, is "relieved" or, to put it another way, free to do the same thing again. As for Serena, you just have to watch her bowing and scraping on breakfast TV to know her swearing days are over for good.
