The Lightness of Posting…

Sorry people, but the blog has been a bit ignored recently. However, should I have anything to say, you’ll be the first to know.

Some comments.

I hate pre-season friendlies and tournaments. For those of you who don’t know why, I refer you to this. That hatred is maintained – ha ha ha, Van der Sar has broken his finger in a pre-season tournament and is out for two months. Serves them right.

I have not commented on the Red Sox because I fear the worst. The next few weeks are brutal and the Yankees are likely to pull away from us. We seem unable to get a consistent offense going, and the pitching is a little up and down. The series in the new Bronx BandBox is going to be crucial. Split that and I may have some faith. However, I fear the difference is that the Sox go to Toronto, face Halliday and get a morale sapping defeat. The Yankees go there and win. A small sample size, but a pretty prescient one. The Yankees are top because they beat the crap out of the crap. We are second because we let people like Brett Anderson shut us down.

I could go off on an article a couple of weeks back where Kevin Mitchell in the Guardian mocked Stewart Cink for being (a) a christian not afraid to profess his faith and (b) a republican. Next time you see Kevin Mitchell mock Younus Khan for praising Allah, give me a call. And any lefty leaning footballer too. Anything goes in The Guardian after all. I love the news about their poll for the top TV programme this decade. Top Gear is walking it!!!! (Now they’ve sussed, they are manufacturing a closer contest).

WindyBricks start their campaign on Saturday with an away game against Titanic Launch FC – and like the esteemed vessel, they nearly sunk over the Summer. I won’t be at My Providing AcquaintancesStadium as I would much rather save my money for things I’d enjoy, and you won’t be seeing me at The Novel Leslie Grantham next Tuesday either for some weak piss lager cup game against Matt Damon’s Gob. My seasonal reappearance will be on 15 August when the Novel Leslie Grantham plays host to the automobile of Montgomerie’s mate (reattached) for a festival of football.

Finally, my post on my old Latin teacher (how preposterous does that sound) has reaped a reward. I am really pleased to hear from him and shows the power of the net. I’m now minded to go through my blogs and get shot of all the naughty words! What would my teacher think? As my dear late mum used to say, if you have to use a swear word, it shows up the lack of words at your disposal. I hope this blog proves that assertion as invalid. Anyway, this is a real boost to me today, and is one of the things that makes this all worth while, despite the comments of those who use their brains only to move, drink and slag off others.

And in a nice follow-up, I am off to the Great British Beer Festival this afternoon. Pip Pip!

An Icon…

Severiano Ballesteros finds himself fighting that despicable disease. I pray he pulls through because Seve was one of my sporting favourites of the 80s, and it is always sad to see your icons in their demise. I have no idea of the prognosis for Seve’s illness, but it don’t sound good.

You see Seve is one of the reasons I am a sad sports video collector. It goes back to the 1984 Open Golf Championship at St. Andrews. I was on a cricket tour to Holland with my school – a tour where I got 9 runs in 4 knocks, and was dropped for the only game of the five in which we won – and the Open was going on while I was out there (along with the West Indies continued domination of England in that summer’s test series). I sort of kept up with the news of the Open, but never totally.

A-ha, when I got home from the tour, and the school holidays had started, my dear late mother had taped all four days of the BBC’s highlights of the Open. It was a brilliant spectacle, with Tom Watson and Seve battling it out, and if I recall correctly, a young Aussie called Ian Baker-Finch had three sparkling rounds before falling away. That was it. I now have video / DVD recordings of nearly all Open’s since, somwehere or other, starting from 1987 – I was on holiday in 1985, and in 1986 I have Greg Norman’s Golfing Year as a record. Now people who know me will know of the immense amount of sport I have on video/DVD and Seve’s Open triumph is one of those reasons.

Of course Seve’s exploits in the Ryder Cup were always amazing to watch, and I remember in particular how he was a “liability” in playing terms at Oak Hill in 1995, but his sheer strength of character, powers of recovery and skill around the greens made him a considerable, if faded force. It was one of the best examples of a man’s sporting character almost overcoming the terrible technical problems he had. An inspiration as captain two years later, Seve then faded rapidly from the golfing scene, and now casts a sadder figure with news of his terrible illness.

Trite get well soon messages are all well and good, and I’d add my small quiet pipsqueak voice to the other more grandiose figures. All I will say now is that I hope this 80s sporting pioneer and icon lives many more years, and that the memories we have of his brilliance can be aired with him still around to acknowledge them.

Best of luck to him.

Reflections on a Dmitri Weekend

The ear infection that has punctuated my posts of the last week has abated somewhat, but by no means clear. In order to satisfy the needs of HMG UK, I shall be returning on Tuesday when the doc’s certificate runs out, but hoping the flight isn’t too horrendous on it.

I am currently sat in the Guest House on the Cape of the 5th Month, watching and listening to the last game at Yankee Stadium. Get this maudlin rubbish over with please. The Yankees have been poor this year and it seems somewhat fitting that the House That Ruth Built will go out with this collection of mediocrity. I shall expand further on my favourite team when I return to Blighty.

In many ways the USA winning the Ryder Cup gives the competition the shot in the arm it needed. I await snarks like Mark James slagging off Faldo – I have no idea, residing as I am in the States at the moment, if it is already going on – but the USA seemed to want to prove something in the absence of Tiger Woods, and they did this with bright phenoms like Anthony Kim rather than the old guard being to the fore. Faldo’s choice of Ian Poulter was utterly vindicated as he was our best player throughout; Sergio Garcia played badly, Harrington was a washout, and Westwood didn’t seem too much to the fore either. We need these to play like stars, and they didn’t. The next edition at Celtic Manor in Wales in a couple of years’ time is eagerly awaited.

In the sporting shock of the day my favourite NFL team absolutely slaughtered the Patriots in Foxboro. Given Miami have not won a road NFL game in a couple of seasons, and that the Patriots hadn’t lost a regular season game since late 2006, it was a hell of an upset. But 38-13? 5 Touchdowns to Ronnie Brown – 2, I think, direct from snaps, 2 conventional rushes and 1 passing TD – is extraordinary.

Windybricks, my football team won by 2 goals more than the opposition, the banned union town with some horses, with goals fromm Gary The Great and D-Mart. Four consecutive league wins, and Windybricks are now on the up. Due to hearing problems I have missed much of this run, but I will return for our game in a fortnight against Concrete Cow Economists from Merton.

The Orioles lead 1-0. Sorry. Make that 2-0. You lose, you go out. Fitting.