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Sport report

February 4, 2022 in Flotsam and Jetsam | Permalink

Regular followers of these observational obiter dicta (a bit of stretch there but let us not be deterred) will be familiar with my routine reports on various sporting occasions that I (or we) deem to be of import.

I do not – frankly – participate in sports myself these days (though much fitness work is yet done) and those who tried to coach me back in my school days would express a total lack of surprise thereat. The following of various noble sports does, however, play an important part in our lives and I like to enthuse about that wherever appropriate.

My last such report to this forum dates from September last and followed hot on the heels of Emma Radacanu’s splendid victory in the US Tennis Open and – of course – of the Olympic games.

Since then – complete radio silence!

There are good reasons for this sad state of affairs.

Over the past three months England have visited Australia for the most recent episode in that epic cricket contest – the Ashes. Opinions were deeply divided as to their prospects. Those in charge of the England campaign claimed (somewhat unconvincingly) that – pandemic apart – England had spent the last two years preparing for this gladiatorial contest and that the omens were for once propitious. Everyone else declared the the English Cricket Board – by prioritising unnecessary short-form tournaments that blocked out the core of the home season – had effectively prevented any of the potential candidates for the test side from gaining relevant match practice in appropriate conditions.

As it turned out ‘everyone else’ was right and England were accordingly humiliated. At the time of writing several of those responsible for this fiasco (though sadly not the chief culprits!) have duly fallen on their swords and we await further developments.

No cause for reportage there!

In the world of rugby the home nations had surprisingly good Autumn International series, with each side beating one or more of their southern hemisphere counterparts; no mean feat! I would have felt inclined perhaps to have reported thereon where it not for the fact that my attention was distracted by the performance(!) of my long supported Premiership side – Bath. Readers may recall that in 2015 – the year that we left the UK to move to Canada – Bath unexpectedly made it through to the Premiership final, which we eagerly attended at the Cabbage Patch. They were, sadly, well beaten by the beastly Saracens, as duly noted within these pages. Unfortunately their fortunes have since declined and this year they have had a terrible start to the season, losing eleven straight league games before finally winning one against the next club up the table – Worcester. The one piece of good fortune – if such it really be – is that because of COVID there is no relegation from the Premiership for the second year running.

Thank goodness!

So – what moves me to write about sport now?

Well – four things…

Firstly, the Winter Olympics have just begun. No-one in the UK really gives a rat’s arse about these games, because we are pants at most of the sports involved – but here in Canada, of course, it is a different kettle of fish entirely.

Secondly, Canada have suddenly – and to many people’s surprise – become rather good at footie and have just qualified for this year’s World Cup. Who woulda thought it?!

Thirdly, last weekend Bath hosted last year’s champions – Harlequins – at the Rec. To everyone’s surprise, they won! Perhaps their fortunes have finally changed for the better (famous last words!).

The final thing is that this weekend sees the start of this year’s Six Nations championship – and all matches will once again be played in front of (doubtless) full houses. Hooray for that, say I!

This Saturday sees Scotland host the ‘auld enemy’ at Murrayfield for the Calcutta Cup. Whisper it quietly, but it does look as though this might be the closest competition for some years…

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Wonders will never cease

November 6, 2021 in Life in England | 2 comments

I made passing reference in my last post to an action taken very recently by the UK government that seemed to me – as it did to many others – to be fundamentally corrupt… and one which by its very nature would lead to a significant denigration of the UK’s much vaunted and centuries old democratic accountability.

As it turned out – however – the old saw about twenty four hours (other time measures available!) being a long time in politics proved most apt in this case.

It occurs to me that those outwith the UK might not be aware of this particular story. To that end I thought I might offer a quick catch up. Here we go:

  • Tory MP and ex-Northern Ireland secretary – Owen Paterson – was investigated by the Commissioner for Parliamentary Standards after being accused of breaking the lobbying rules for MPs.
  • Paterson had been doing extremely well-remunerated consultancy work for several companies but had been accused of going further and actually lobbying government ministers on their behalf.
  • Following the investigation the commissioner found that Paterson had indeed been involved in a number of serious breaches of the code and recommended that parliament suspend the MP for 30 days – the which could have led to his being dropped by his constituency party, thus causing a by-election for his seat.
  • On the day that the case was to have been debated in the Commons the government did two highly contentious things: first – in an attack on the Commission for Parliamentary Standards – they proposed ditching that venerable body completely and replacing it with a new one that would actually be considerably less independent and would be chaired by a tory. Secondly – on the grounds that it would be unfair to judge Paterson before the new body had been instigated – the charges against him were to be set aside.
  • Prime Minister Johnson backed both motions heavily and spoke warmly in Paterson’s defence. A three-line whip was imposed on the vote which resulted in both measures being passed.
  • The opposition parties refused to have anything to do with the new body and even a good number of tories were horrified by this blatant attempt to change the rules retrospectively. One junior minister was sacked for abstaining rather than voting for the measures (though later re-instated).
  • That was the point at which I wrote my last post. What followed was much more encouraging – at least for those who are not supporters of the current regime in the UK.
  • The following morning there was a huge outcry and even the tory supporting press decided that things had gone too far. In the face of this wave of criticism it was announced in the house that the vote in favour of replacing the standards commission would be set aside after all.
  • Since there would now be no reason not to revert to the originally planned debate on Owen Paterson’s future Johnson did what he does best – betrayed his colleague and effectively threw Paterson under a bus – without even communicating the news of this abrupt U-turn to him. Paterson learned of the development through being asked a question by a reporter.
  • Having by this stage had enough Paterson finally did the decent thing and resigned

The entire episode spoke to sleaze and shoddy self-interest (Johnson himself is the subject of several inquiries by the commission) and I suspect this one will run for some time.

I cannot think of a more appropriate party to which this could happen.

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Sporting life – 2

September 18, 2021 in Flotsam and Jetsam | Permalink

CC0 Public Domain image from https://www.maxpixel.net/sportsIn the afterglow of Emma Raducanu’s thrillingly successful and unprecedented title campaign at the US Tennis Open last week I promised that I would take a quick canter through the various sporting events that took place throughout the summer, as it now winds down into the Fall.

In the normal run of things I would certainly have posted little vignettes on the events that interested us as they came and went – as a normal part of the rich tapestry of life – by way of illustrating that which keeps us oldies chugging along as opposed to just slumping into an armchair and gazing, dead-eyed, out of the window.

I am, therefore, slightly worried that we have gone through this brief season – watching coverage here and there, rejoicing when sports that we love have shown signs of recovering from the pandemic – only for very little of it to have moved us as it would normally have done.

Is this somehow down to the events themselves – or is it just us?

This was, of course, a belated Olympic and Paralympic year (confusingly maintaining the conceit that it was still 2020 in Tokyo rather than 2021). We enjoyed a fair amount of the coverage and the Brits and Canadians performed pretty much in line with expectation, but though the empty expanses of the spectator-free stadia did not prove quite the dampener that they might have there was still something about the event that prevented it from quite hitting the high notes. As a Brit I was also somewhat worried that in events in which we were but recently world-beaters (rowing and cycling come to mind) we seem to have fallen off the radar. True we won medals in some of the new events (skateboarding, BMX!) but I am not sure what to make of those.

For those of us who are Rugby enthusiasts and who hail from the UK, the quadrennial tours by the British and Irish Lions to the southern hemisphere are virtually on a level with the World Cup when it comes to representing the pinnacle of the sport. We were all thus agog with excitement this summer at the promise of the Lions twelve-yearly trip to South Africa.

You may have gathered from the overall tone of this post that the outcome was a disappointment – and not just because of the results. The tour – beset as it was by the now familiar COVID troubles – had a sadly sour note to it. This was very much not helped by the frankly bizarre behaviour of some of the South African backroom staff – including some who should very much have known better – but it also did not help that the rugby itself was fairly grim. World champions they may be but I for one do not care for the Springbok style of play and the fact that the Lions chose to try to fight fire with fire proved sadly to be the wrong approach on the part of the Lions manager – the otherwise estimable Warren Gatland.

There was one a brief passage in the third and deciding test when the contest suddenly sparked into life; when Scottish fly half Finn Russell finally made it onto the pitch. Sadly it was too little too late – though maybe lessons will be learned (again) for the future.

Having been given a drubbing in India during the winter the English mens’ cricket team faced a busy summer hosting the return series against the Indians as well as the Kiwis – who now hold the Test Championship title. In spite of Joe Root’s repeated heroics the inconsistent form of many of the squad and the lack of match readiness resulting from the introduction during the height of the summer season of an idiotic new short format of the game, resulted in a completely unpredictable sequence of results.

Some of those were down to the Indians, who suffered their own strange lapses without which the England results would have been even poorer. As it was the final test of the summer would have given the English an opportunity to come from behind to tie the series – had it not been postponed indefinitely at the last minute as a result of positive COVID tests in the Indian backroom team. This sad ending seemed about par for 2021.

There was also – I believe – some sort of footie tournament during the summer, but regular readers would not expect me to know anything about that – and nor I do!

 

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Sporting life – 1

September 12, 2021 in Flotsam and Jetsam | Permalink

The Girl and I watched the other day the extraordinary denouement of the US Open women’s tennis championship from Flushing Meadows, New York.

In the unlikely eventuality that any gentle reader might somehow have remained unaware of the details of this unprecedented match – here they are:

  • The final was between two teenagers – nineteen year old Canadian Leylah Fernandez and eighteen year old Brit Emma Raducanu.
  • Neither girl had been seeded and both had had remarkable and unexpected runs to the final.
  • The winner – Emma Raducanu – is the youngest Briton to win a Grand Slam title.
  • She is also the first British winner of the women’s US Open since Virginia Wade (who was in the crowd) won at Flushing Meadows back in 1968.
  • Ms Raducanu is the first woman or man ever to win a Grand Slam title having started as a qualifier.
  • She is the youngest Slam winner since Maria Sharapova in 2004 and the first woman to win without dropping a set since Serena Williams in 2014.
  • Both young ladies appeared to be supremely self-assured and nerveless throughout. Oh to be so at any age – let alone when still in one’s teens.

The Girl had, naturally, been rooting for Leylah Fernandez and the knowledge that Emma Raducanu was actually born in Toronto and moved with her parents to the UK when she was two years old didn’t really help much. For both Brits and Canadians, however, the current plethora of sporting talent on show from both nations is extremely pleasing and its like has not been seen since eons passed.

Hearty congratulations to both youngsters – but in particular to Ms Raducanu who, in addition to becoming US Open champion, earned herself two good passes in her A Levels a couple of months back (goodness knows how she found the time!). It think it is fair to say that neither of the girl’s lives will be the same again.

Writing about this event reminds me that I have not posted anything at all to this journal on the subject of sport for some considerable time – the which is all the more peculiar given that there has been a fair bit of it on offer this summer.

I feel that a brief catch-up and explanation is due and promise same for the very next posting (or one shortly thereafter should other ‘stuff’ intervene).

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Democracy

March 21, 2019 in Life as we know it | Permalink

Alpha Stock Images - http://alphastockimages.com/ I am going to do something that I should probably not do – something that I have largely avoided doing over the past couple of years. However – times are critical and needs must!

It is part of our wonderful human nature that we – from time to time – make bad decisions or bad choices. Sometimes these decisions affect other people to their – and to our – detriment.

Making a bad decision does not make one a bad – nor a stupid – person. Sometimes we are big enough to acknowledge when we have made a mistake. Other times we rigidly refuse to do so regardless of the outcome. It matters not, however, whether we are in denial or not – a bad decision remains a bad decision regardless of whether we accept the fact or not.

Further – the fact that a bad decision may have been taken by a very large number of people – maybe even by a majority of those who had a say in it – still does not alter that fact that it is a bad decision!

There is a reason why in the United Kingdom and in Canada we have representative democracies rather than direct democracies. It is characteristic of representative democracy is that while the representatives are elected by the people to act in the people’s interest, they retain the freedom to exercise their own judgement as how best so to do – with the express purpose of protecting the nation and its people against choices that may be self-harming.

The use of referenda in such democracies is a very dangerous practice and enormous care should be exercised whenever such a prospect is raised. There is a good reason, for example, why there has never been a referendum in the UK or Canada in favour of capital punishment.

The resolution to leave the European Union was a bad decision; the suggestion that we should leave without a deal is a far, far worse one. Virtually nobody who will have to operate under such an outcome thinks that to do so would be a good idea. Neither business nor workers do – pace today’s joint call by the CBI and the TUC. Scientists, academics, economists, healthcare providers and on and on… no-one does. The Europeans don’t. Our parliament as a body does not. Polls (as unreliable as they are) show that a considerable majority of the population does not.

The only group that positively pushes the idea of a ‘no-deal Brexit’ is that hard core of right-wing free marketeers who see opportunities for themselves and their like to profit from the carnage, much in the way that spivs and profiteers do in times of conflict or war. Should one have any doubts at all as to the likelihood that these people truly have the good of the nation at heart one only need look at who they are and at how they have acted over the past three years and more.

They are not on the side of ordinary people!

In spite of everything, however, the country is slowly sliding towards a hard exit and time is running out. Protestations that all we have to do is to believe in ourselves and that all will turn out alright in the long run are hopelessly naive (or downright mendacious!). There has been some revisionist thought in recent years that the appalling decisions taken in 1914 which led Europe to sleep-walk into the Great War have been somehow vindicated by later outcomes. No-one with any awareness or compassion believes this for a moment – and there is a very real chance that in years to come a decision to crash out of the European Union without a deal would come to be regarded in the same light.

I urge those who are able to consider doing the following two things:

Sign the petition to revoke Article 50.

Take part in the march on Saturday 23rd in support a final say.

Before it is too late!

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Groundhog Day

December 15, 2018 in Life as we know it | Permalink

Image from PixabayI have done my damnedest not to burden these postings with further personal diatribes on the state of British politics (in particular with regard to Brexit) though I couldn’t help but agree with some commentaries this week that made mileage from references to the Bill Murray movie from which this post derives its title.

I am, however, frequently asked by bemused Canadians to explain what on earth it is all about – and I always do my best to give satisfaction. To that end I thought these extracts from a recent column by Rafael Behr in The Guardian (Westminster has known the options since 2016. Which Brexit does it want?) might go some little way towards clarification…

…or perhaps not!

The backstory:

“Brexit, as experienced by EU leaders, is the same banal dialogue played on a loop. It goes roughly as follows:

UK: We are leaving.

EU: We wish you wouldn’t, but if you must, there is a process with one fundamental principle: you cannot retain privileges of EU membership without an obligation to uphold EU law. With that in mind, here are the options …

UK: We do not like those options and refuse to choose between them.

EU: No other options exist.

UK: We believe they do.

EU: Tell us what they are.

(At this point the UK government wastes months arguing over whether it is better to use a jet pack or a magic feather to fly over a rainbow.)

UK: We would like to continue enjoying privileges of EU membership without obligations to uphold EU law.

EU: No!”

Behr rightly points out that – given where we now are – there are only three possible options:

“Option one: exit with a deal almost exactly like the one May has negotiated. By deal here, I mean the withdrawal agreement – the legal text that serves as safe passage to a transition period from where other options for the long term can be developed. The withdrawal agreement can be ratified or not. Its many deficiencies, including the notorious backstop, are intrinsic to Brexit and would be the same for any party under any leader. Changing the prime minister doesn’t change EU law.

Option two: membership of the EU – the best available outcome in strategic and economic terms, but one that incurs serious political cost by enraging already furious leavers.

Option three: exit with no deal. An appalling idea recommended only by fools, liars and vandals who relish chaos for perverse ideological reasons.”

How might any of these options be achieved?:

“Option one requires approval of the withdrawal agreement and an implementation bill in parliament.

Option two is reached by rescinding the article 50 notice, which should, for democracy’s sake, be done after a referendum, although the result of that is unpredictable.

Option three is easiest. It involves carrying on as we are, bickering about process, failing to cross tribal party lines in pursuit of consensus, refusing to be honest about what is available and watching the clock tick down.

Those are the choices. They aren’t complicated. The EU side identified them two years ago and spelled them out clearly. The British public is bored watching their politicians argue about the wrong questions. The EU is bored watching British politicians refuse to level with the public about the right questions. Everyone should be afraid of what happens in the absence of clear answers, because disaster by inaction is the default option.”

All clear now?

Splendid!…

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Unbelievable!

July 8, 2013 in Life in England | Permalink

Photo by Calgary Reviews on FlickrScarcely more than twenty four hours after the British and Irish Lions’ delivered a rugby lesson to the Wallabies, recording an historic series win down under with an unexpected 16-41 drubbing – than Andy Murray completed an amazing sporting weekend by defeating the world number one – Novak Djokovic – in a hard fought but emphatic straight sets win to become the first British man to take the mens’ singles title at Wimbledon for seventy seven years!

Even to the sports-mad British it must have seemed that nothing could top last summer’s dazzling Olympic triumphs or Bradley Wiggin’s heroics to become the first ever British winner of the Tour de France… but perhaps this weekend has just done so!

Now all we need is back to back Ashes wins and we will truly be in sporting Nirvana…

Congratulations to the Lions and – of course – to the splendid Andy Murray!

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Welcome tae Scotland

November 27, 2012 in Flotsam and Jetsam | Permalink

Best line in the latest episode of the long-running ‘Bond’ franchise – as Albert Finney’s highland gamekeeper, Kincade, greets the first two evil henchmen through the door of the Bonds’ ancestral home – Skyfall – with both barrels of his sawn-off shotgun:

‘Welcome tae Scotland’…

A considerable body of commentary has already been added to the InterWebNet on the subject of Skyfall, which Kickass Canada Girl and I saw – and enjoyed hugely – at the London IMAX over the weekend. Much of the critical reaction has been overwhelmingly positive – which pretty much reflects our view – whilst viewer comments on blogs and forums have comprised the usual baffling mixture of the amusing and the frankly bizarre. I don’t mean to cavil, but who really gets upset over minor plot holes in a Bond movie? Isn’t that rather missing the point?

I have no intention of adding to the tsunami of online reference material on the film itself – but the fact that this year marks the 50th anniversary of the franchise does merit a little consideration. It is my contention that there has been no other franchise in movie history that even comes close to matching the record of the Bond films. I am not interested here in box office take nor profits made – only in the length and diversity of what is, after all, a single and relatively simple idea – which has been turned into a hugely successful and apparently perpetual series.

And the real gotcha? It’s British!!

Enthusiasts might point to the manner in which the franchise has been constantly refreshed – indeed ‘re-booted’, as the parlance goes – in order to retain its ‘relevance’ – though what such pertinence might actually comprise is a matter for endless debate. Again, relevance – in the sense of the films having something to say about contemporary life – is not really the point. At least – not directly…

Some would suggest that the enduring appeal of the films is based on the timeless diet of girls, guns and gadgets. There have, however, been a multitude of other action films with similar ingredients, and I would argue that that this alone can not explain such longevity. My view is that it is more than simply a question of each film beguiling its own generation. I believe that the franchise is capable of continual renewal because of its mythic nature – a nature that was integral to Fleming’s novels from the start.

Bond’s genesis was in the immediate post-war period. As the old world shivered in the embrace of the cold war, Britain – reluctantly but with typical sang froid – dismantled and handed back the constituent parts of its empire. The fact that it had little choice in the matter is barely relevant. Intended or not, few other nations have handled the transition to the post-imperial state with as little turbulence.

What was lost however – along with the empire itself – was the nation’s sustained and carefully crafted imperial mythology. Largely the work of the Victorians, and with its stiff upper lips, sun never setting, pungent whiffs of patriotism and a dashed all-round sense of fair play, this self image – though partial (in all senses) at best – had served the nation well. Whatever republicans and modernists might protest to the contrary, we are a smart enough race to recognise the importance of a national mythology, which is why so many of our myths have survived in one form or another. The loss of empire and demotion from top-nation spot had, however, left a yawning void in our psyche – a void which clearly needed to be filled.

Enter the sixties. Enter James Bond.

In Fleming’s novels – and in the subsequent movie franchise – we have found a new mythic self-image. We like the patriotism, the sense of duty, the determination to succeed against the odds and the understated suggestion of heroism. We appreciate the dry sense of humour, regardless of the situation. We like the style – the tailoring, the cars, the yachts, the luxury lifestyle – strangely (and yet not!) at odds with the purpose of the role. We also like that the films showcase much that we are proud of in our culture – the music, the writing, the acting (Daniel Craig, Dame Judy Dench, Ralph Fiennes, Albert Finney, Javier Bardem – for goodness sake!), the camera work, the special effects – the pure, sophisticated, joyous class of it all!

To those critics who carp that such a brutish, womanising, unreconstructed chauvinist – Fleming’s ‘blunt instrument’ – is entirely unsuited as a mythic role model, I would simply point out that this is to misunderstand the nature of myth itself. Are not the Arthurian heroes also deeply flawed characters? Are not the North American creator figures – the Raven and the Coyote – also amoral tricksters, equally likely to steal, to gorge themselves and to fornicate their way through the firmament as they are to create the sun – the moon – mankind?

It was little surprise to me that Danny Boyle chose to foreground Bond amidst the panoply of cultural icons representing modern Britain in his definitive Olympic opening ceremony. It was only a momentary surprise that Her Majesty herself chose to sanction this choice by breaking with all tradition and appearing alongside – and thus endorsing – this fictional character.

Bond is now a key ingredient of the new mythical self-image that we have constructed for ourselves. And we like what we see…

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Oh – I say!

September 11, 2012 in Life as we know it | Permalink

It seems felicitous today to appropriate the catchphrase of the inimitable Dan Maskell, the English tennis player and Davis Cup coach who – post-retirement – became even better know as the BBC’s ‘Voice of Tennis’.

Congratulations indeed to Andy Murray who – at the fifth time of asking and following on from his splendid Olympic gold but a few weeks ago – finally won the major title that had thus far eluded him and was crowned US Open Champion late last night. Murray – and the entire nation – breathed a huge sigh of relief. Now that the citadel has been breached there is nothing to stop him marching forth and – hopefully – claiming the Wimbledon victory that everybody – himself included – surely inevitably sees as the real prize.

Murray’s triumph added a final exhilarating coda to the spectacular British summer of sport, in which this victory and Bradley Wiggins’ magnificent Tour de France tour de force parenthesised the wonders of the Olympic and Paralympic campaigns. I simply can’t remember a sporting summer to compare…

My only gripe last night was that the time difference between the UK and Flushing Meadow – not abetted by the epic nature of the match – left me – and many others – short of sleep. After the marathon 90 minute first set – and the erratic but more rapid progress of the second – I could hardly go to bed with Murray a mere set away from victory. By the end of the third – which featured Djokovic’s initial spirited fightback – it really was getting very late. Surely Murray would close out the fourth? I clambered into bed, armed with the Galaxy Note so that I could get my fix of updates from the InterWebNet.

As one would expect given the class of the opposition nothing would be that easy, and I finally gave up as Djokovic’s sterling challenge increased in ferocity and he levelled the match at two sets all. The next thing I knew was that I was suddenly wide awake in the middle of the night and blinking myopically in the darkness. I fumbled for the Note and hit refresh. Murray had done it!!!

Hearty congratulations to both players for such a magnificent contest. A fitting way to end the summer.

Now I need to lie down in a darkened room…

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