I’ll confess something straight away: I love stats. Sad, isn’t it? Some people collect vinyl or matchboxes, others run marathons or still play with Meccano in their 50s. Me? I sit at my iPad cross-referencing rainfall figures from 1930 onwards. It’s not glamorous, but it keeps me off the streets.

Anyway, September is shaping up to be the wettest month since January, which got me wondering: are autumns really getting wetter, or am I just noticing it more because I am coming to terms with being on the spectrum? Climate scientists have long warned that the UK would become not just warmer but wetter too. So, I decided to drown myself in data, figuratively on this occasion.

A Look at the Wet Side

Here’s the roll call of the most miserable autumn’s since 1930: They are the year’s 2000, 1960, 1935, 2019, 1976, 2023, 1954, 1974, 1944, 1984, 2022, 2002, 2012, 1940, 1967, 2024, 1981, 1992, 1982.

The law of averages says that each decade should contribute about two wet autumns to the list. And broadly speaking, that holds true. Which would suggest… maybe things aren’t changing that much at all?

But hold on a second and look again. We’re only five years into the 2020s, and we’ve already had three entries (2022, 2023, 2024), with 2019 sneaking in just before. That’s four of our wettest autumns in just six years. Statistically speaking, that’s not so much a trend as a punchline.

When Autumns Stayed Dry

To balance things out, here’s the list of crisp, crunchy-leaf seasons: 1978, 1947, 1964, 1985, 2011, 2007, 1956, 1972, 1973, 1941, 1955, 1945, 1937, 1971, 1969, 1933, 1948, 1989, 1942, 1962.

Now, here’s where it gets interesting (at least to me and maybe a handful of other people in the entire country): 16 of these 20 dry autumns happened in the first 50 years of records, and only four in the second 50. The last one was way back in 2011. That’s 14 years ago. Since then? Five wet ones.

So, What’s the Verdict?

On the surface, the law of averages makes it look like nothing’s changing. But dig deeper (with your trusty spade of statistics and an admission you are probably undiagnosed) and it’s hard to ignore the pattern: wetter autumns are becoming more common, while dry ones are fading into history.

Of course, I’m no climate scientist, just a bloke who gets a thrill out of weather stats. Still, when the evidence says we’re swapping golden autumns for soggy ones, maybe I should stop obsessing over numbers, accept it and find something more interesting.

Next week: Have short corners increased since the start of the Premier League?