RICHARD ORD: Give the Beeb, and my body parts, a break

Read all about it, erm, eventually. Anger is being stoked up against the BBC for not coming down hard on one of their presenters who may not have done something wrong. The presenter may be totally innocent, but we have a right to demand that he, or she, should not be allowed to get away with whatever it is he, or she, may, or may not, have done with someone, also unnamed but not famous (yet), who may or may not have been underage when they did it. Confused? You will be...

Eventually we were told the BBC had suspended the unnamed presenter. At which point you have to have some sympathy for those BBC presenters who had just taken annual leave and were left scrabbling to make sure they weren’t in the frame.

As an avid news and gossip junkie, I love it. I’ve already conducted my own investigation, identified the presenter, and will happily tell anyone down the pub that they are probably guilty. Should I be proved wrong by actual facts, I’ll give you a withering head shake and say ‘no smoke without fire mate, another pint?’ Until then, what about my hand? I once broke my leg emptying the washing machine. I was kicked playing football. Limped around for a few days before going to a walk-in centre (I was limping, but they still let me in. They aren’t that strict on the ‘walk-in’ rule, though they do draw the line at cartwheeling to reception).

A nurse checked my swollen leg and sent me away with paracetamol. It was just bruised. When bending down to empty the washing machine later, my ‘bruised’ leg snapped. Turns out it was broken. I’ve been allergic to washing machines ever since.

Similar story a few weeks ago. Bashed my hand playing cricket. When it ballooned to novelty sponge finger proportions I went to A&E and was sent home. ‘It’s bruised.’ When it continued to expand - honestly, I could barely get into my falconry glove - I went back. An x-ray revealed it was broken.

Two hospital visits, send home each time for being a wimp, only to be proved a brave broken boy. Not sure what it all means, but it's gotta be more interesting than the Beeb bother. Answers on a postcard...