How about some tea and crumpets with your golf tourney telecast?

Eleven score and eleven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new, soon-to-be cable-ready nation. We abandoned England – partly because of taxation without representation, partly because those blokes drove on the wrong side of the road and partly because of the bad food.

Then how come every time I turn on a PGA telecast on CBS, it sounds like the House of Commons?

It’s as if my TiVo froze on “Upstairs, Downstairs.”

You want to know where all our jobs are going? To bloody Brits who can’t shoot par anymore!

Apparently, CBS doesn’t hire a golf analyst unless he shows up with a Union Jack and a shepherd’s pie.

Its lead analyst, Nick Faldo, is English.

Peter Oosterhuis is English.

David Feherty is Irish.

Ian Baker-Finch is Australian.

You think John Daly and Chi Chi Rodriguez are at the 18th-hole tower at the British Open for the BBC?

Thank goodness for Gary McCord – he’s a red-blooded, Oprah-fearing, burger-and-fries American.

Sure, we’re a nation of immigrants. But do they all have to show up in my living room while I’m trying to watch the AT&T Pebble Beach National Pro-Am?

Heck, if President Bush gets wind of this, he might build a wall around every golf course in America. Actually, we already do this: They’re called country clubs.

(By the way, did you catch NBC’s and ESPN’s around-the-clock, first-tee-to-19th-hole U.S. Open coverage? It was breathlessly sweeping. I thought we were putting another man on the moon – and it was Davis Love III! Tiger Woods’ opening-tee shot was captured on seven NBC-owned channels, four NBC Web sites and two NBC cell phone services. As I slid into a CAT Scan thingamajig for liver X-rays Friday, I could’ve sworn I heard Johnny Miller telling my doctor that the radiologist had “choked.”)

I understand they invented the game; well, the Scots allegedly did. But, hey, just because Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone, I’m not looking for him on a party line every time I call Shannon Elizabeth’s service for a date.

Don’t get me wrong: These golfing gentlemen from the fallen empire talk a good game. Feherty, in fact, might have the best sensibility of any jock analyst on television, and Faldo – accent aside – immediately became the most listenable voice among golf’s No. 1 network commentators.

All of them have a better vocabulary than us – and they use it. Frankly, they talk English better than we do; they’re more comfortable with the language. They’re big on nuance and irony and subtlety. We’re big on, well, you know, like, NASCAR and stuff.

So when those chaps talk golf, it sounds closer to Shakespeare than, say, Stallone.

Faldo: “You really have to thread the ball through every little avenue.”

Feherty: “He got nothing out of that one…[it] landed like a sack of flour.”

Oosterhuis: “It will be interesting to see how Corey Pavin battles a little breeze against.”

Faldo, again: “It’s very daunting to just dolly over there and get it to stop.”

Meanwhile, Baker-Finch drops “treacherous” and “tricky” into telecasts like Emeril Lagasse drops shellfish and celery into bouillabaisse.

But I can take only so much cultivated, polished, refined, enlightened, sophisticated, cultured, urbane, elegant and civilized chatter before diving headfirst into a “King of Queens” rerun.

I’ve got to draw the line somewhere, and that line is somewhere just west of Benny Hill.

Besides, isn’t it enough that David Beckham is imminently due to arrive in America?

Anyway, I have to go and get ready for Wimbledon – for once, I can’t wait to hear the sound of John McEnroe’s voice.

Ask The Slouch

Q. Do you favor Pyeongchang, South Korea; Salzburg, Austria or Sochi, Russia as the site for the 2014 Winter Games? (Brett Rigney; Seattle)

A. If I’m the IOC, I’d just rent one of those semi-vacant Six Flags Theme Parks and call it a day.

Q. I love HBO’s “Entourage.” I am sure someone as popular as you also has quite a following – please describe the “Slouch posse” for your readers. (Bill Lehky; Strongsville, Ohio)

A. The Slouch posse consists of my UPS delivery guy and some poor sap down the street who mistakes me for Ron Jaworski.

Q. Would you ever consider buying a pair of Nike’s new $110 “Zoom Soldier” LeBron signature basketball shoes? (Kim Prosser; Olney, Md.)

A. I have always found that JCPenney slippers serve most of my needs between the couch and the kitchen.

Q. Where I work, we have assigned parking. The guy next to me always parks his car over the line, thus “crowding my space.” Should I throw a baseball at his head to get him to “back off”? (Billy Fish; Pasadena, Tex.)

A. Pay the man, Shirley.