From ancient woodland, and the lush meadows of later times, and the Common, Bec and teeming thoroughfares marked out on the proud map of those meadows ere humanity was drawn to them has grown a reputation that transcends locality; an idea of greatness and renown uncoupled from the quotidian abasements of parking tickets, council tax and mass-produced Edwardian architecture.

That idea is Tooting. Where else can boast of such fierce loyalty and soaring vision among its favoured sons and daughters? For Tooting, lest anyone forget, was the power base of Wolfie Smith, pre-post-modern revolutionary, who would have set the world alight and recast it as prescribed by Marx himself had he but broken the bonds of BBC unreality. It is the old stamping ground of David Davis and the hearth to which he constantly returns, in spirit if not body, when trying to revive his Tory leadership campaign. And now its mightiest artery, the A24, scythes through it not just to Dorking but so far beyond that, for Tooting’s children, “the sky’s the limit” is a timid understatement.

Yea verily. The road from Tooting leads to Mars. Pete Mouginis-Mark, a Nasa scientist based in Hawaii but brought up in Tooting, has found a new dimple on the Red Planet and named it Tooting Crater. It’s 16 miles across, and it’s official. The International Astronomical Union (IAU) has accepted the name. By whose authority? Its own, apparently. In interplanetary naming, assertiveness is all. So here’s a challenge for Southend: name the whole darned planet after you, and market yourself to the Universe: “Southend. Third beach from the Sun.”