IF you have not yet double-checked your lottery tickets, now might be a good time to do it.

After all the bad luck that has been flying around the world of sport over the past week, there is bound to be a lot of the other kind still about – Newton’s Law about every action having an equal and opposite reaction.

For every unlucky person there must be somebody, somewhere who has all the luck.

Top of the list of bad-luck stories has got to rest at the door of Barrow Raiders’ long-serving stalwart Liam Harrison. For 10 years, the man the fans have nicknamed The Bull has spilt sweat and blood on behalf of his hometown club. No fuss, no tantrums, just good, honest, hard-running performances. The perfect candidate for an old-fashioned testimonial. And what happens? At the first signs of a bit of mud his main event – a benefit match against Super League opponents – is cancelled.

One day a referee passes the Craven Park pitch fit, but it was fairly clear that the planned opponents were not at all happy with that decision, so they called for another inspection a day later. This time it was called off.

Now, a lot can happen in 24 hours up here in our north west outpost, but not much did – apart from some overnight rain. And that was enough for Warrington, it would appear to the less generous among us, to get what they wanted. Game off. Nobody outside the big-match promoters really believed that the Wolves would be sending up a Super League-strength team up to play in a testimonial game less than a week before they open their season with a game against Leeds Rhinos.

But that mattered little to the Craven Park faithful who wanted to show their appreciation to The Bull.

I doubt if the Wolves made any new friends by insisting on a second inspection that led to the cancellation at 9.30am on Friday – 10 hours before the scheduled kick-off.

Let’s hope the organisers of Liam’s testimonial have more luck with any future fundraisers – that there is no earthquake if they are planning a golf day; food shortage on the night of a sportsman’s dinner; or black-out during a Race Night. The Bull deserves a change of luck.

Then there’s Andy Murray, the best tennis player we have ever produced (no arguments, please!). In any other era, the Scot would be mopping up titles across the globe, including Australia. Instead, he comes up against a player in the middle of showing why he is destined to become the sport’s biggest winner, Novak Djokovic.

The Serb is so far ahead of the rest that it is almost inevitable that he will overtake Roger Federer’s 17 Grand Slam titles. Coming second to him is the tennis equivalent of chasing Tiger Woods before the golfer went into rapid decline.

Murray has now lost five Australian finals. The chances are he won’t win one until his nemesis calls it a day. And he is all of seven days younger than Murray.

It might be stretching a point to suggest that Manchester City manager Manuel Pellegrini is one of life’s unlucky people, but who else has been waking up every morning to read that his job is about to be filled by somebody else? (Well, apart from Louis van Gaal, of course). But there is a big difference. Pellegrini, who will be making way for Pep Guardiola in the summer, could lead his team to a record-breaking four major trophies in one season – Premier League, Capital One Cup, FA Cup and the Champions League – and will still end up without a job.

English football has been obsessed with Guardiola, who is leaving Bayern Munich at the end of the season to move to the Etihad. Paper talk has been going on for months that he was City-bound and now it is out – confirmed by Pellegrini himself yesterday. I suppose we should expect all these shenanigans, especially on football swap shop’s final day. The City manager has been too dignified and loyal to comment on something he has known for several weeks, instead getting on with his job. If he does achieve the impossible and win four – or even three – of those trophies it would be interesting to know where City expect Guardiola to take them from there.

Meanwhile, where next for the Chilean? Chelsea, maybe? Without John Terry, of course.

Lord Coe has never struck me as the sort of person to evoke sympathy, even when his luck is out. But he must be wondering what made him draw the short straw to become boss of athletics. If ever a sport was in a mess it’s the running, jumping and throwing brigade.

PETER WILSON