IT is not so long ago that, for many British sports fans, the Tour de France was just a bike race that had nothing much to do with us.

Yes, we admired the stamina and fitness of the men who pounded their way up the sides of the Alps for days on end, but its overall appeal was confined mainly to fellow cyclists.

And it was won more often than not by a Frenchman, a Belgian or a Spaniard (we are allowed to ignore Lance Armstrong) and rated no more than a few paragraphs in the papers and a slot on Channel Four.

Not any more. Along came Team Sky and Bradley Wiggins became Britain’s first winner.

Now it’s the turn of Chris Froome to stand on the podium as our first double winner of the yellow jersey.

Even those of us who don’t understand the finer points of team tactics can feel a sense of the old Bulldog spirit at the sight of one of ours pedalling along the Champs Elysees in triumph.

But it wasn’t just the victory that should make Froome the red hot favourite in any voting to find a sportsman of the year.

During the gruelling three-week marathon he was spat at, had urine thrown in his face and suffered a chest infection and almost reached breaking point at one stage.

And at the end of it all his humility shone through.

He praised his team-mates – “You have my utmost respect and gratitude and this is your yellow jersey just as much as mine,” he told them – but it was his emotional acceptance speech that should have silenced any spitting, urine-throwing clowns still hanging around.

“The Maillot Jaune (yellow jersey) is special, very special. I understand its history, good and bad, and I will always respect it, never dishonour it and I’ll always be proud to wear it.”

Post-Armstrong, the tour is riddled with suspicion over doping and Froome’s performances were questioned by certain so-called experts on French television.

A British winner may not have been what the French were hoping for – they haven’t had one of their own since 1986 – but they should be grateful that the champion is a man like Chris Froome.

IF this upsets all fellow golfers, I offer no apology but I have never quite been able to associate the hitting of a small ball across a perfectly manicured stretch of grass into a slightly larger hole with the idea that it is an act of courage.

So when former Open champion Tony Jacklin used the words courage and brave to describe the final shot of the British Seniors Open at Sunningdale I had to make a bee-line for my dictionary.

Marco Dawson, a little known American, had seen off the challenge of Bernhard Langer and Colin Montgomerie as well as many more of the biggest names in the sport to lift the seniors title – finishing off with a long-range putt to kill any chances of Langer keeping his title.

But courage? Brave? I suggest the bravest thing those guys did all week was battle with the conditions that would have sent many of us racing for the clubhouse.

And there’s a certain cyclist mentioned above who could tell Tony about courage.

IF you needed any reminding that the new football season is only days away, perhaps this headline from one of the papers will help: “Pellegrini feels the heat.”

Manchester City had just been tonked 4-1 by Real Madrid in a friendly in Australia and the name of Pep Guardiola pops up again about the same time.

Oh, and there was also the draw for the 2018 World Cup qualifiers in St Petersburg, so it looks as though it’s going ahead in Russia after all.

Meanwhile, we are still preparing for the finals of the European Championships in France in 2016. Hope you can keep up.