Archive
Desolation
I’m kind of hooked on a BBC drama series from ten years ago, give or take. It’s called Hinterland, it was shot in both Welsh and English and set in west Wales, in and around Aberystwyth, I don’t know why I like it because all of the characters seem to be desperately unhappy. There are no smiles, only unremitting misery. I can only guess that’s what living there does to a person.
Woeful
I have never been much good at sport, other than squash, and I was no better than average at that. But as a young journalist I did cover football for my paper. There I learned very quickly that as a local reporter it was my job to be partisan, and also that my press box companions from the nationals were a motley, cynical crew of which I had no wish to be part.
Looking back on them now I feel a fondness for them that was lacking at the time because at least they appreciated both sides of the game they were watching, sometimes through bleary eyes. It’s even stronger today as I contemplate the ongoing coverage of the England cricket tour of India, a nation of a billion people that has not lost more than one match in a series since Buddha was a novice.
If there is one word built into auto suggest in an English cricket journalist’s laptop it is this: woeful. Received wisdom in football is that you are only as good as your last game. Among the sneering hacks who follow Stokes’s side, most of them ex players who never scaled great heights, you are only as good as your current innings.
I accept that these people have a role as critics as well as reporters of the facts, but criticism is invalid when it comes from people who are incapable of acknowledging and factoring in the possibility that the opposition might actually be very good, and on that day might have played out of their skins.
Scam alert
A couple of minutes ago I had a call from this number: 07778 173445.
The automated caller told me that she was from HMRC and that I would be prosecuted unless …
That was as far as she got. Be aware.
Proud to reblog this, by Eddie Pepperell
It has been a useful week since arriving home from Kenya. I was anticipating having a quiet, relaxing few days off, away from the clubs. But, after …
Nothing Lasts Forever
They couldn’t care less
Tomorrow, the Genesis Scottish Open golf championship enters its final day. This morning the tournament organisers brought forward all the starting times. The leading trio tee-ed off just after nine. Why? Because the weather people thought there might be storms in the afternoon. Did they material? No.
Tomorrow they will begin even earlier. Rory, Kim and Fleetwood will be in play before the clock has struck 9, and the starter’s work will be done. Why? Because the same weather people think there might be strong winds in the afternoon.
Having just come through the five minute rain shower that was the sum total of the feared storms, I am wondering when golf stopped being an all weather game. Could it have been when the European professionsl tour sold its soul to the US Tour?
In addition I am wondering whether anyone involved in these two cowardly decisions gave a moment’s thought to the interests of the thousands of fans who have shelled out big bucks to watch their heroes, but were left with no realistic chance of getting to the venue before 7am. Actually that is not true: I am not wondering because I am sure they don’t give a toss.
Due
For the last 15 years, since the Qataris bought football, my motto has been ABC = Anyone But City. However with Sheikh Jassim hovering around Man U, and the Saudis owning Newcastle United, I have to face up to reality.
But all that aside, there is Pep and there are the rest. When he was promoted from being the Barca B coach to the top job, my friend Carlos said that he wasn’t sure about him. Carlos didn’t live to see his doubts assuaged, but I am sure he was smiling down on Turkey last night.
City deserved to win last night because they went out there with only that in mind, unlike Inter, whose first objective was not to lose. Plus they’re the best team on the planet.
Crystal
So here’s how I see things playing out. The Tories lose all three by-elections. A little over a year from now there will be a general election. By that time Boris will have found himself a safe seat.
The poll results in a change of government, with a coalition or a minority administration, Rishi resigns. Boris runs for leader and wins. The minority government collapses. There is a general election, and …
Ivy
Got to say this: as a society we are becoming more and more cruel, but even that is outstripped by our cynicism. As witness this morning’s staged performance by the saintly Holly what’s her name. My disgust is tempered only by my knowledge that what goes around comes around.
Seriously?
Skechers Slip-ins. Really? Seriously? Why? Shoes for lazy ********.
The Wild West Show
I see that in Scotland we have a Circular Economy Minister. That reminds me of the mythical bird that flew in ever decreasing circles until it disappeared up its own arse. Hopefully that will come to pass.
Utter
I watch golf on Sky. Unfortunately that brings with it a ton of advertising by Rolex. I don’t know who writes the copy but whoever does must have a degree in pretentiousness. Some of it doesn’t even make sense.
Guys, it’s only a watch.
Logone
Lured by the impending end of ‘Succession’, and to fill the space between episodes, I have been revisiting the first season, in which I never quite invested at the outset. If the makers get the ending right it may well go down as an all-time great series, up there with ‘Breaking Bad’, and the sadly neglected ‘Homicide: life on the streets’.
My big fear, though, is that I might turn into Logan Roy.
Off with their heads
This evening I forced myself to watch The Windsors: Coronation Special, because Channel 4 advertised it as comedy. It wasn’t: it was satire. What’s the difference? Cruelty. Comedy is laughing with people. Satire is laughing at them.
Raab
I’m crying quietly into my cereal for those poor people who were bullied by Dominic Raab.
For the record, I spent nearly all of the 1970s in the Civil Service, as a press officer. We worked closely with Ministers, including Willie Ross, who had a fiery reputation but was actually a fine man. I never met one who could have been described even remotely as a bully.
The Civil Service itself, that was another matter. My unit was led by a man who was a bully of the first order. He was not alone. At the top levels there were tales of phones being thrown out of windows. I’m sure things have improved since then, but even now if the benchmark by which Raab was judged was applied across the board within the Service itself, I am sure there would be more than a few heads rolling along Whitehall.
+
Anyone who has Paramount and isn’t watching Rabbit Hole needs to correct that omission. Anyone who doesn’t have it . . . tough.
Graceless
I watch a lot of crime drama on TV. I’m open minded about it and never overly critical. But I have limits. I reached them at the weekend watching the latest episode of Grace. I have read none of the books so I don’t know the extent to which they have been adapted, but there came a point on Sunday when the plot took a completely unexpected turn. I’m not easily surprised. When I am, my usual reaction is, ‘Nice one, well done.’ On Sunday I spoke it out loud. ‘Nah, You’re kidding. You’re having a laugh.’
No spoilers, but was it just me? Or did anyone else find their credulity stretched to breaking point?
