In case things didn't work out for you as planned this week and you're upset about it, just remember that the world number one golfer, Scottie Scheffler, was arrested on his way into the PGA Championship on Friday - one of the most important tournaments of the year - for what seems to be an absolutely ridiculous reason by an over-zealous police officer.

He then shot a great score on Friday after being released and was hailed as a hero, with people wearing his mug shot on t-shirts around the course. He followed it up with a terrible round on Saturday (by his standards), so it looks like he was rattled by the experience and it took a day to show.

The lesson here? At some point, government will let you down. Badly. Build in some crisis planning for when this happens. And in case you think it's only the police to worry about, here's a trivia nugget that makes us wonder how Rome wasn't burnt in a day.

We’ve all heard the term “fire sale” before. One of the first fire brigades in history was less of a civic service and more of a lucrative way to score property. Back in ancient Roman (BC) times, a man named Marcus Licinius Crassus had a crew of slaves that he would send around to burning buildings with buckets full of water. These “fire fighters” would then stand around and watch the building burn while Crassus negotiated with the owner over the cost of the property.

The longer the negotiation went on, the more the building would burn and the lower Crassus would make his offer. By the time the fire was put out, the owner would have sold his property for a fraction of its value, and Crassus’ crew would demolish the smouldering structure anyway, leaving him with the valuable land beneath. This scheme is part of the reason why Crassus became known as the richest man in Rome. 

(Rumour has it that upon his death, molten gold was poured down his throat as a symbol of his thirst for wealth. Seems apt).

Whether we like it or not, the government is charge makes a big difference to both our lives and our money. The latest Investec No Ordinary Wednesday podcast gives context to over 60 nations going to the polls this year and what this means for investment uncertainty. You can listen to it here.

And whilst it is very difficult to plan for enthusiastic Kentucky cops who don't watch enough golf, or hard-negotiating Roman generals, you can at least plan for your share portfolio to give you a hard time. One of the ways is by including a healthy mix of bonds. This article from Siyabulela Nomoyi at Satrix explains why this is important.

In the spirit of uncertainty, the rest of Ghost Mail Weekender brings you the story of a cosmonaut with terrible luck, the plight of the rich in getting their hands on Birkin bags and finally, things that surprisingly became professional sports.

Enjoy it and have a terrific day!

The Finance Ghost (follow on X) | Dominique Olivier (connect on LinkedIn)

TL:DR: In late spring 1991, a Soviet cosmonaut was launched into space. When he returned home after almost a year of living on a space station, he was Russian. 

Alongside fellow cosmonaut Anatoli Artsebarski, Sergei Krikalev was tasked with conducting repairs on the ageing Soviet space station, Mir. After five months, Artsebarski returned home, but Krikalev stayed. He was well-prepared for long-duration flights; after all, he had previously spent 152 days aboard Mir.

Little did he know that this mission was about to become his longest.

While Krikalev was busy with spacewalks and maintenance 300 kilometres above Earth, his home nation was in turmoil. In August 1991, a failed coup against President Mikhail Gorbachev triggered events leading to the Soviet Union's dissolution. By December 26, 1991, the breakup was complete, and Mikhail Gorbachev resigned as president of the Soviet Union.

The future of the space program was thrown into turmoil. The Baikonur Cosmodrome, from which Soviet spacecraft were previously launched, was now in independent Kazakhstan, which demanded hefty fees from Moscow. Russia, with a collapsing economy, tried to raise funds to keep the programme alive by selling space station trips to Western governments. Austria paid $7 million for a Soyuz seat and a Japanese TV network paid $12 million for their reporter to go.

Moscow negotiated with Kazakhstan, agreeing to fly the first Kazakh cosmonaut in exchange for launch permissions. However, the new astronauts - one Kazakh and one Austrian - weren’t experienced enough to replace Krikalev in his post aboard the Mir. Reluctantly, Krikalev stayed behind while his visitors returned home.

Russian newspapers expressed sympathy for Krikalev. Komsomolskaya Pravda reported, "The human race sent its son off to the stars to fulfil a concrete set of tasks, but hardly had he left Earth than it lost interest... and it started to forget about its cosmonaut. It did not even fetch him back at the appointed time, again for completely worldly reasons.”

Krikalev was able to keep in touch with his wife, Elena, who worked in mission control, by speaking over the radio weekly. The political upheaval in the background had caused the Soviet ruble's value to plummet, making Krikalev’s monthly salary of 500 rubles barely enough to support his family. The space agency struggled to send essential supplies to the stranded cosmonaut and even considering selling Mir to the Americans, but NASA showed little interest.

Finally, on March 25, 1992, after 311 days in orbit, Krikalev returned to a transformed nation. The once-communist Soviet superpower had fractured into 15 nations, presidents had changed, and his hometown of Leningrad was now St. Petersburg. Krikalev himself was reclassified as a Russian citizen, having essentially left his Soviet identity aboard the Mir.

And you thought jet lag was bad.

Less than two years later, Krikalev returned to space aboard the US Space Shuttle Discovery, making him the first Russian cosmonaut to fly with US astronauts on a US spacecraft. Krikalev retired from spaceflight in 2007, having spent over 800 days in orbit, placing him third for the highest number of days in space. His unscheduled 311-day stay during the Soviet Union's breakup is the sixth longest spaceflight in history.

The life of a cosmopolitan cosmonaut was many things, but boring wasn't one of them.

1. Creating Excel spreadsheets. Need your books balanced in record time? Then you might want to seek out one of the Microsoft Office Suite mercenaries competing in the Financial Modeling World Cup. The finale (in Las Vegas) gets televised on ESPN and everything. No word on whether they hook up while they vlookup on the strip.

2. Cup stacking. Some teenagers experiment with medicinal plants. Others experiment with how quickly they can stack cups on top of each other. Don’t laugh about it either, because sport stacking is serious business, with a website dedicated to stacking equipment (i.e. cups) and a dedicated World Sport Stacking Association. 

3. Combat juggling. Sadly, no clowns in war paint are featured in this one. Instead, teams of participants juggle three pins each while attempting to interfere with their opponents' juggling patterns. If a juggler drops a pin, they have to leave the field. The objective is to be the last juggler standing. Riveting stuff. 

4. Bird calling. Springtime in Flanders is the season for vinkensport, also known as vinkenzetting (finch sitting), a 400-year-old sport where chaffinch breeders compete against one another to see whose bird can sing the most. It’s not innuendo; it really is that dull. 

5. Slapping. Slap fighting is exactly what it sounds like: a sport where two participants take turns slapping each other with an open hand. The aim is to deliver the hardest slap without the opponent dodging or falling, with judges scoring the effectiveness of each hit.