Andy Flintoff, Andy Murray and Andy Ram...

well not really Andy Ram, Dudi Sela would have been more appropriate, but a little bit of illiteration never failed to grab the attention somewhat better than 'Zionist issues and dual identity' or some other appropriate but rather dull title I could have gone for.

This post springs from the fact that I spent a glorious morning yesterday watching Andrew Flintoff bowl England to a memorable, momentous and historic victory against Australia in the 2nd Test Match at Lord's- we're talking cricket, just in case you were wondering.

When it comes to things like tea, cricket, football, marmite and the like I can often be heard reminding all assundry that you 'can take the Brit out of Brtiain but not Britain out of the Brit. Cultural I am fine with just how British I am and I have also made my peace with condemning myself to a life of never being either entirely British or Israeli.

So when England play cricket I have no problem supporting them without a sniff of a quarm, similarly when Israel plays football I have no problem giving the team my support, but what about when those two loyalties come into sporting conflict?

I used to think my answer to this apparent conundrum was clear and consistent...Israel, always Israel.

Despite the fact that even despite my enthusiasm I cant imagine feeling conflicted about supporting Israel in a largelythereotically cricketing match-up and I already know from experience that I support Israel against England in football I seemed to have stumbled upon a grey area and I'm confused at the inconsistency and the conflict this presdents me with.

For years, growing-up in the British Zionist Youth movement world 'Who would you support if Israel played England at football? was a favourite and perenial question which articulates the tension between being Jewish and British in a powerful and compellimg way for the large majority of the kind of Jews i know and grew up with.

As I say, it now having happened I know, not only in theory but also in practice that I support Israel without a second thought.

All this being the case I was rather surprised during Wimbledon. I had been excited at the prospect and truly expect Andy Murray to reach the final atleast. As Wimbledon rolls around Brits in their droves, of which I am one, take up there annual two-week obsession with tennis and the pilling of pressure upon the shoulders of the brightest British male hope as we search in vain for the next British man to win Wimbledon. Following Murray's semi-final exit at the hands of the inspired Andy Roddick, Fred Perry remains the last, taking the title in his long-white trousers in 1936.

With the scene set and Murray progressing serenely through the draw along came Dudi Sela to throw me into what turned out to be, in the end, only theoretical confusion.

Of course I was backing the Israeli No.1 in his hot streak, hoping he woukld do well, but when confronted with the possibility of a Murray vs Sela situation, I couldn't help but want Murray to win.

Clearly me being me, I felt a pang of conflictedness at this realisation.

I've tried justyfying it, maybe it has to dowith it being an individual sport, maybe this maybe that, but of course the truth of the matter is that I was already emotional invested inthe success of andy Murray and he actually, unlike, poor old Dudi had a realistic chance of winning the championship outright.

This is the argument you hear often from British Jews justifying their support of England over Israel in football. It always felt like a cop-out answer, one that I was uncomfortable with. Now that it seems I share it in a tennising context is, as you'll understand, an unsettling self -relalisation.

No, cozy one-sentence resolution here, sorry, when I reach one {I'll let you know...