Now, who can define the word “Sport”? In my world, sport equals competition and competition is something that happens between machines, men or creatures that have been designed or bred to perform at the very limits of their ability.

It could be cars, motorbikes, even horses but the common denominator is speed and efficiency.

They are the sleekest, strongest and fastest among their peers.

So why on earth do the chavs and the posh folk (thin dividing line there) insist on driving the motoring equivalent of mutton dressed as lamb?

I’m talking about the so-called sports 4x4s that have started to invade our roads in ever increasing numbers.

What we have here is an identity crisis on wheels; where you take a vehicle with the aerodynamic qualities of a barn door and furnish it with a racy body kit and slick tyres.

It’s a bit like putting Lycra shorts and running shoes on a fat bloke, or go faster stripes and a TDI badge on a canal boat!

Maybe the “more money than sense” brigade that drive them don’t actually know what they were ultimately designed for?

Well here are a couple of clues: off road does not mean the car park at Waitrose or the speed humps outside little Tarquin’s private nursery.

Nor does it include mounting the kerb outside Bicester Village Retail Park, a private gym or the nearest tanning salon.

Now everybody knows that a sports car is a small vehicle that has two seats and luggage space for a valise and your secretary’s overnight bag.

It is the Peter Pan of the auto world; it’s rock n roll, sex and glamour all rolled into one.

In stark contrast to this, the sport 4x4 is a rolling midlife crisis, a bit like the bloke that insists on wearing the same sized jeans as when he was 17 and then can’t bend down to do his shoe laces up!

Perhaps the designer badge club should try entering their super size cars in a donkey derby; after all it’s a genuine off-road event and at least then they would have a sporting chance!