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Republic of Ireland defender Louise Quinn is confident the Girls in Green have a plan in place to shut down prolific Australia striker Sam Kerr when they face the hosts in their World Cup opener. Quinn’s side, after all, have done it before, spoiling the Chelsea forward’s 100th appearance for the Matildas with a 3-2 victory when they met for the first time in history at Tallaght Stadium in September 2021. Dublin native Quinn powered in a second-half header to break the deadlock and memorably hand the Republic their biggest win over a higher-ranked opponent in over two decades. “It’s rare but I felt like I got one up on her with the Irish team in Tallaght and that is something that I will carry forward with me,” said Quinn, speaking during a team training session at Brisbane’s Meakin Park. “But she’s very impressive, she’s very strong, easily one of the best strikers in the world now. For me, you concentrate on the whole thing but I definitely have an individual battle on my hands that is essentially what I want. “What I want to so is to not let her score essentially. Keep her out of the game. She really creates moments out of nothing but it has to be 100 per cent for the 90 minutes. “Yeah, she runs off the back shoulders a lot. She is so nippy that she can come around the front and come off your blindside and make runs in behind. I can’t wait for the challenge to be honest, this is what you play for, to play against the very best in the world. And she is one of the best. “We’ve proved before against Australia that we can put something up against her and she was on the pitch that day and had her chances.” Matildas captain Kerr, Australia’s top goal-scorer of either gender with 63 from 121 caps, was named the Football Writers’ Association (FWA) Women’s Footballer of the Year for a second straight season after a 2022/23 campaign that saw her score 17 goals and pick up six assists across the Women’s Super League and Champions League. She was largely shut down at Tallaght, where Mary Fowler netted two to keep Australia in a game Matildas head coach Tony Gustavsson would later tell media he felt was “some kind of record” for the number of technical mistakes he observed in his side. They will have to do better to impress the 80,000-plus crowd who have sold out Sydney’s Stadium Australia on Thursday night, the second contest on a two-match opening day beginning with co-hosts New Zealand’s meeting with Norway in Auckland. Sunday was a recovery day for the Republic, who are hoping midfielder Denise O’Sullivan will be fit in time for the biggest day in team history after she was injured in their aborted friendly with Colombia. An initial X-ray and CT scan encouragingly showed no fracture to O’Sullivan’s shin, and she will be assessed again on Monday afternoon. Quinn’s name will forever go down in history as one of 23 selected to represent her country in their first World Cup. It is an astonishing accomplishment that has struck her sharply and sporadically, often when she has least expected it. She said: “I had a really random one after the Zambia game and we had a weekend off. “I was just chatting to my girlfriend about something, and I was saying ‘I’ll do that after I get back from the World Cup.’ And I actually stopped for a second and realised that yes, I am going to a World Cup. “And I had to stop for a moment. I got emotional. Because we’ve been talking about this all along but now it’s really confirmed. It hit me. We were just getting the dinner ready and chatting, ‘We’ll do this after the World Cup. It was really bizarre, a really emotional moment and I didn’t think that was going to happen.” Read More Charity boss speaks out over ‘traumatic’ encounter with royal aide Ukraine war’s heaviest fight rages in east - follow live On this day in 2016: N’Golo Kante swaps Leicester for Chelsea Carlos Alcaraz out to end Novak Djokovic’s reign in Wimbledon final for the ages Somerset’s Lewis Gregory relieved to shed ‘nearly men’ tag after Blast title win

People from Inishbofin say they're relieved as remains taken 133 years ago come back to the island.

It’s just after 9pm and lilac hues have spread across Dorset skies, shadows extending over a panorama of marquee tops. Perfect conditions for the first night of End of the Road, whose Friday headliners – Black Midi, Battles and Fleet Foxes among them – are minutes away from stepping on stage. Yet, rather than slipping through the masses to grab a good spot, I’ve been back at my tent for an hour already. Having unfolded a stool in the last of the sun, simmering lentils and a mug full of boxed cab-sav for company, my one-year-old daughter, Nancy, has finally nodded off in the tent, unaware of earlier negotiations between her parents. After an afternoon watching bands from a lower-decibel distance as a family, it’s my wife who’s out tonight, enjoying her child-free break for freedom. Although, with the Pixies – a band beloved since teen years but never seen live – top billing on Saturday night, I felt confident in my call as “White Winter Hymnal” carried on the breeze. We’re a day into our first festival as a family of three, an experience already proving quite a journey. As a sometimes music journalist, I’d covered events across Europe over the past decade, adept at negotiating stage splits, balancing reporting duties and life-affirming experiences with willing accomplices. Of these, End of the Road has remained a regular fixture, an informal end-of-summer meet-up with industry colleagues and friends – as well as my chosen stag-do destination. With a one-year-old in tow, this year would mark a stark contrast. From the freshly purchased family-sized tent – the subject of substantial research and investment, and an attempt to win over a camping-averse wife – to the travel cot, buggy, strings of fairy lighting, endless layers, toys and first-aid trappings for every eventuality, the baggage was endless. Shoulders ablaze, I’d carried it all in as my wife kept our daughter entertained. Stepping into my role as responsible dad, I’d practised the tent’s set-up at home prior to arrival and, with a tangible sense of optimism about the weekend ahead, started separating pegs from poles. Yet, with the tent almost up, something unsettled me. What was that smell? Unzipping the bedroom it hit me. My earlier garden practice run had provided the perfect sheltered toilet for a visiting fox –  evidence of which no amount of wet-wipe scrubbing could remove, resulting in a showdown with the reluctant camper and a smell that would accent a weekend in which expectations were continuously lowered. After my wife crashed back in on Friday night, earlier than anticipated and hamstrung by a fast-developing cold, we wondered if we were up to the challenge. Nancy was having a nice time, happy tracking insects in the long grass or studiously inspecting the contents of her snack bag. But could this equally have been any other field? Had we been too exhausted and distracted to embrace the experience? By contrast, our camping companions had brought their five-year-old, who enthusiastically shared stories about favourite bands and the wicker dragonfly he’d crafted, as his dad talked about the surprise sets he’d happened upon the previous night. Perhaps we’d just taken all of this on too soon. The next morning, I nudged Nancy’s buggy around the site, stopping at the kids’ area, where a neckerchiefed uke player offered up nursery rhymes with instruments for children, which were seized upon with pleasure. Various childless friends were never far away, entertaining our daughter in bursts. Later, after reuniting with my wife, a highlight was bobbing to Los Bitchos’ buoyant afternoon performance with Nancy held aloft, as was a brief glimpse of Jockstrap packing out a small stage in the woods. Yet other moments – flailing nappy changes amid aghast onlookers, straying too close to the stage with a buggy as the light faded and the crowd surged – presented a sharp learning curve. Still feeling under the weather, my wife headed back to the tent with Nancy as the Pixies arrived, Frank Black’s substantial presence now underscored by a pang of guilt. After checking in and being signed off to stay out, I’d joined an excitable crowd for an unannounced late-night set at the Tipi stage, which, after turning out to be one of the tiny handful of bands I’d already seen that day – again sounded another minor chord on my tiny violin. As the skies cleared, we’d discovered corners along the way we’d otherwise never have seen and met a similarly dazed yet determined community of parents With my wife’s health deteriorating further overnight – diminishing her perception of fox piss, at least – we made the call to leave on Sunday morning and I hauled everything back to the car. On the long drive home, and hours before Covid would be confirmed, it had to be asked: had this been fun for anyone concerned? Was this festival too aptly named for a new dad trying to reconcile past and present lives? This all happened in the summer of 2022 and, unfazed, we tried again this year – albeit at the even smaller scale and decidedly family-friendly Kite Festival in Oxfordshire. While Nancy’s advanced age presented new challenges – tentative first steps now a confident swagger – her inquisitiveness also marked her out as the perfect festival companion. Expectations now firmly in check, we let ourselves be led by circumstance and proximity, stopping for whatever drew the eye rather than dashing from act to act, allowing us to slow down and see the world through her eyes. Occasionally we tag-teamed the lineup, each picking a couple of acts to witness unhindered by short attention spans (my wife took former PM John Major’s packed-out talk in the big top, I took Suede). Under the hot sun, our meeting point at the shaded children’s area also helped keep Nancy from turning pink in the sun. Clapping furiously at the end of shadow chancellor Rachel Reeves’s morning debate, her grasp on Labour’s manifesto pledges seems better than most – although this mimicry of crowd behaviour proves an endearing feature at later events, too. An uncontrollable tantrum during Michael Gove’s appearance at a panel discussion saw us quickly extract ourselves from the tent, drawing smiles from an audience impressed by the effectiveness of her heckle. Further priceless memories included dancing together at Candi Staton’s sundown set, Nancy with a brioche in each hand – ear defenders askew – visibly finding her feet. The following day the skies suddenly broke, with an electrical storm closing all stages, sending Birkenstock-clad families sprinting for cover. The one attendee thrilled by it all was Nancy, who careered around cackling as security attempted to keep punters from the marquee’s lightning-conducting metal poles. As the skies cleared, we’d discovered corners along the way we’d otherwise never have seen and met a similarly dazed yet determined community of parents. We still hadn’t nailed the performative kids-at-festivals thing – there was no trolley adorned with decoration or whimsical outfits – but felt comfortable that we’d struck the right balance, fulfilled by a shared experience led by the spontaneity of a child’s impulses. It marked a shift from any naive attempt to carry on with our lives as normal. An alternative, of course, is to leave your family at home. A couple of weeks ago I joined 250,000 others at Glastonbury, my own spontaneity given breathing space once more. Thrilling, yes, but also a weekend that at times left me seeking my small festival companion among the other attendees. I was temporarily overcome watching a daughter on the shoulders of her father as he introduced her to a favourite band, excitedly explaining each musician’s role. “How old? I’ve got one a similar age,” was shared with various others. Yet it was also at Glastonbury, as the temperature nudged into the thirties, that I spotted another dad – fixed grin but dead behind the eyes – pushing three irritable kids in a trolley up a shadeless slope. I nod my solidarity, before skipping off to the bar – relieved, this time, that’s not me. Bumping into Joe Goddard from Hot Chip, whose bandmates collectively call their kids the Micro Chips, he says that of all the children he knows, it’s those who have always been dragged to festivals who have proved the most rounded. Something that resonates with me as the Glastonbury hangover subsides and – reunited with my family – I start looking forward to carving out new shared experiences in crowded fields once more. 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Phoenix Mercury superstar Brittney Griner marked a successful return to the WNBA All-Star Game on Saturday, her first since being released from a Russian penal colony last December.

The UK signed a treaty to join a Pacific trade deal on Sunday, formally becoming the first new

France midfielder N’Golo Kante joined Chelsea from Premier League champions Leicester for a reported £32million, on this day in 2016. Kante’s only season with the Foxes, following his arrival from Caen the previous summer, saw him play a pivotal role in their title-winning campaign. He was offered a bumper new contract at the King Power Stadium but opted to leave for Chelsea. “Despite the offer of a substantially-improved, long-term contract, it became apparent that N’Golo’s wish was to join Chelsea,” said a Leicester statement. Kante cited the opportunity to work under then-Blues boss Antonio Conte as a major reason for moving to Stamford Bridge. “I am so happy to have signed for one of the biggest clubs in Europe. It’s adream come true for me,” he said. “The opportunity to work with a brilliant coach and some of the best players in the world was simply too good to turn down.” Chelsea won the Premier League during Kante’s first season in London as the now 32-year-old became the first player since Eric Cantona in 1993 to win back-to-back top-flight titles in England with two clubs. Kante also won the FA Cup, Europa League and Champions League before leaving Stamford Bridge this summer for Saudi Pro League side Al-Ittihad. Read More Charity boss speaks out over ‘traumatic’ encounter with royal aide Ukraine war’s heaviest fight rages in east - follow live

UBS Group has decided to retain EY as its external auditor, enlarging its role to include Credit Suisse's

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US Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen said she’s eager to build on recent improvements in US-China relations as finance

The numbers have been drawn Saturday for the third-largest Powerball jackpot in its history -- an estimated $875 million.