What in god's name is going on at the BBC? Surely the the last 12 months has been the nadir of this once great broadcasting giant. Now it stumbles from one disaster to another.
A few months ago it was rubbing its collective hands with glee as Rupert Murdoch's empire was dragged through the Leverson Inquiry. Virtually every BBC news bulletin led with this "story" irrelevant of what was going on and, most shamefully, the conflict in Syria often became a foot note.
Auntie then decided to cover the Queen's Jubilee with a populist slant, so rather than have Dimbleby et al giving us some gravitas and informing the viewer we had the vacuous Ferne Cotton droning on about the most fatuous nonsense.
Summer wore on and the Beeb had a triumph; the Olympic coverage was splendid and all credit. However all that credit was washed over the precipice by the Jimmy Saville crisis. It is all well and good saying that the crimes were committed decades ago, but the handling of the situation after the news broke was pathetic.
So now we have the tawdry spectacle of the same organisation having to perform a massive climbdown in light of the accusations made against Lord McAlpine. What is even more incredible is that again it is Newsnight at the centre of the storm. Did they learn nothing from the decision to shelve the 2011 investigation in to Saville? Are they just allowing any old hack to feed them unsubstantiated information? Who is in charge? Who is accountable? It does a disservice to the thousands of BBC employees (or are they? No, let's no go there!) who work tirelessly to produce some of the best global media output. Watching the News at 10 last night, I felt genuinely sorry for Fiona Bruce having to lead with....the BBC makes another apology.
A couple of years back when the BBC announced that they were scaling back in light of the continuing global economic climate I was disappointed, the Corporation had grown massively over the preceding decade and had become a global superpower, recognised around the world as the foremost provider of unbiased and accurate news. Now I am of the belief that the BBC is far too big and should be scaled back further until someone can get this particular house back in order. The only saving grace this week for Auntie was when Phillip Schofield decided to hijack the Prime Minister over the same paedophile story on ITV on Thursday's This Morning.
It appears that shabby ethics are catching.
Saturday 10 November 2012
Wednesday 17 October 2012
Plenary......
A word dragged back from the abyss by management consultants to justify their helpless crap to attempt to confuse the rest of us..........pathetic!
Tuesday 25 September 2012
Lying b***ards??
I don't know about the rest of you but I am getting particularly bored of the dross that is called advertising on our TV screens. In the space of three minutes I have been subjected to garbage from Santander, Confused.com, Quik Quid, Injury Lawyers for You and a plethora PPI grave robbers.
Santander's ad appears to claim that the people of Shrewsbury at some time this month took to the town centre to be asked vacuous questions by the said Spanish bank (apparently Eurozone's biggest bank). Now forgetting the fact that throughout the ad they miss-pronounced the town (it is not now, nor ever has been a relative of the world's smallest mammal), do they honestly expect us to believe that the residents of the town spent all day milling around the town square whilst actors purporting to be employees of the bank showed them how they could save a million quid by transferring their assets to the bank? Even less likely, surely, is the portrayal of the residents celebrating in the square when the millionth quid was saved some time after nightfall. I will happily print a retraction when Santander or it's advertising agency can prove to me to that several thousand people were jumping up and down in Shrewsbury earlier this month......
Confused.com's excuse for adverts not only have the most wretched cartoon characters and music but it has now started to advocate these appalling black boxes for cars, god if it wasn't bad enough trying to circumnavigate our fair isle we are now going to be subject to the chattering Daily Mail-reading pensioner classes trying to drive even slower whilst wearing their tweed flat caps and string driving gloves and to make it even bloody worse they are still going to driving their effing Rovers.
Quik Quid and the like are the vultures of society, offering to extend pay day loans at a paltry 1734% APR. However Wonga.com who portray themselves as loveable lenders by utilising Nicholas Parsons' voice to give credibility, warmth and security whilst lending you money at a generous 4000% APR. Bandits!
Talking of using famous people to give us the feeling that the advertisers are acceptable, step up Andrew Castle erstwhile tennis player and breakfast commentator who now espouses the virtues of ambulance chasers. How in god's name can you look yourself in the mirror man?
Finally PPI recoverers......No it is not "an important announcement!" as the screen and deep voiced actor screams out at us. It is an invitation for idiots to put their faith in your abilities to leverage a payment from the banks to compensate their stupidity first time around, and you bottom feeders get to skim off the vast majority in fees and commission.
I believe in a free market economy as much as the next capitalist but for heaven's sake the government surely needs to help the cretinous people from themselves?
Santander's ad appears to claim that the people of Shrewsbury at some time this month took to the town centre to be asked vacuous questions by the said Spanish bank (apparently Eurozone's biggest bank). Now forgetting the fact that throughout the ad they miss-pronounced the town (it is not now, nor ever has been a relative of the world's smallest mammal), do they honestly expect us to believe that the residents of the town spent all day milling around the town square whilst actors purporting to be employees of the bank showed them how they could save a million quid by transferring their assets to the bank? Even less likely, surely, is the portrayal of the residents celebrating in the square when the millionth quid was saved some time after nightfall. I will happily print a retraction when Santander or it's advertising agency can prove to me to that several thousand people were jumping up and down in Shrewsbury earlier this month......
Confused.com's excuse for adverts not only have the most wretched cartoon characters and music but it has now started to advocate these appalling black boxes for cars, god if it wasn't bad enough trying to circumnavigate our fair isle we are now going to be subject to the chattering Daily Mail-reading pensioner classes trying to drive even slower whilst wearing their tweed flat caps and string driving gloves and to make it even bloody worse they are still going to driving their effing Rovers.
Quik Quid and the like are the vultures of society, offering to extend pay day loans at a paltry 1734% APR. However Wonga.com who portray themselves as loveable lenders by utilising Nicholas Parsons' voice to give credibility, warmth and security whilst lending you money at a generous 4000% APR. Bandits!
Talking of using famous people to give us the feeling that the advertisers are acceptable, step up Andrew Castle erstwhile tennis player and breakfast commentator who now espouses the virtues of ambulance chasers. How in god's name can you look yourself in the mirror man?
Finally PPI recoverers......No it is not "an important announcement!" as the screen and deep voiced actor screams out at us. It is an invitation for idiots to put their faith in your abilities to leverage a payment from the banks to compensate their stupidity first time around, and you bottom feeders get to skim off the vast majority in fees and commission.
I believe in a free market economy as much as the next capitalist but for heaven's sake the government surely needs to help the cretinous people from themselves?
Sunday 2 September 2012
Channel self promotion
God spare us! The self promotion of Channel 4 has plunged new depths, how in god's name can they plug their coverage of effing horse racing (by the way, not a sport, professional gambling and a waste of decent television space) in the middle of their paralympic coverage? It's bad enough having political correctness gone seriously barmy with the presenters and voice overs without being subjected to utter drivel from the studio. Bloody BBC would do well to remember we finance them and their decision to not bid for the Paras was nothing short of a disgrace. P**s off 4 you are not worthy of shag all. Rubbish, twaddle and drivel have all found a new domicile.
Sunday 19 August 2012
The Pietersen Saga
I was at Lord's yesterday and was rather less than surprised that most of the conversation around the ground centred on a single topic, Kevin Pietersen. Now whilst I have not been a fly on the wall in the England dressing room since 2005, it is pretty clear that Pietersen has always played primarily for himself and his presence in the England team was a purely practical decision, you pick the best batsman in the land. He has performed heroics with the bat on innumerable occasions and let's face it his last day innings at the Oval in 2005 was the final reason we won back the Ashes after nigh on two decades of Australian dominance. His last century at Headingley was a majestic knock, one of his finest in an England shirt. Therein lies the crux of the problem, sadly it appears that KP likes, no actually that should be needs, to be the centre of attention. Sadly for him a certain global sporting event had started in London a few days earlier and he was knocked off the back pages and, allegedly, he was none too impressed by that.
Pietersen announced his retirement from limited overs international cricket on 31st May, citing that he could not continue in all forms of the game at the age of almost 32. The vast majority of critics saw it differently and he was accused of throwing various things from the pram as what he really wanted was to continue to play Twenty20, play in the IPL and get his big pay day. However, the ECB has a selection policy that means you are either available for all formats of international limited overs or you are not considered. Fast forward to the 11th August and KP decides to inform the world of his decision to reverse his retirement from limited overs cricket. He chooses to do this not via the ECB (his employers) but via YouTube! Now the ECB may have handled him very badly before, particularly when stripping him of the England captaincy, but this will not go down in history as a clever move. He commented "I can't wait to play in Straussy's 100th Test next week", the following day the ECB greeted his decision by dropping him from the Lord's test that started on Thursday. At the time this was largely praised as a brave decision. I wholeheartedly agreed with it, feeling that it was about time that the ego needed to be grounded. As the day went on it became clear that there was something more to the decision than giving him a slap on the wrist. If the reports that are widely circulating the media today of the exact wording of the texts he sent to South African players are true, you can understand why Andrew Strauss was "annoyed" by the saga and why he believes it will "take a long time" to rebuild trust amongst his teammates. Errr? Understatement of the century!
I am lucky to know a former England left arm spinner and despite being rather busy in between commentating for TMS and book signing yesterday was good enough to take me and one of my godsons and his father up to the media centre so Max could see the TMS box. Tuffers and I talked about the KP situation and it sounds pretty likely that Pietersen has played his last game for England.
A crying shame but then again the old adage that no one is bigger than the game is poignantly made again.
Pietersen announced his retirement from limited overs international cricket on 31st May, citing that he could not continue in all forms of the game at the age of almost 32. The vast majority of critics saw it differently and he was accused of throwing various things from the pram as what he really wanted was to continue to play Twenty20, play in the IPL and get his big pay day. However, the ECB has a selection policy that means you are either available for all formats of international limited overs or you are not considered. Fast forward to the 11th August and KP decides to inform the world of his decision to reverse his retirement from limited overs cricket. He chooses to do this not via the ECB (his employers) but via YouTube! Now the ECB may have handled him very badly before, particularly when stripping him of the England captaincy, but this will not go down in history as a clever move. He commented "I can't wait to play in Straussy's 100th Test next week", the following day the ECB greeted his decision by dropping him from the Lord's test that started on Thursday. At the time this was largely praised as a brave decision. I wholeheartedly agreed with it, feeling that it was about time that the ego needed to be grounded. As the day went on it became clear that there was something more to the decision than giving him a slap on the wrist. If the reports that are widely circulating the media today of the exact wording of the texts he sent to South African players are true, you can understand why Andrew Strauss was "annoyed" by the saga and why he believes it will "take a long time" to rebuild trust amongst his teammates. Errr? Understatement of the century!
I am lucky to know a former England left arm spinner and despite being rather busy in between commentating for TMS and book signing yesterday was good enough to take me and one of my godsons and his father up to the media centre so Max could see the TMS box. Tuffers and I talked about the KP situation and it sounds pretty likely that Pietersen has played his last game for England.
A crying shame but then again the old adage that no one is bigger than the game is poignantly made again.
Tuesday 14 August 2012
The Greatest Show on Earth
Well London did it. The Games of the 30th Olympiad will go down in history as the greatest ever.
In practical terms, logistically they got it right, OK there was some major delays on the roads on the first couple of days then everyone steered clear of the main arterial roads into town and London's mean streets had tumbleweed blowing down them. The tubes were busy but manageable and it was fun speaking with a small Frenchman whose head was lodged beneath my chin on the Jubilee line last Monday evening heading for Stratford. The Javelin train was fab once you got to the front of the queue. Talking of queues we had been led to believe that getting into the venues was going to make the carnage at T3 five weeks ago look like a stroll in the park. My experience, and that of everyone else I have spoken to, was the polar opposite. The longest wait I experienced was under two minutes to get through the scanners run by our brilliant Armed Forces.
People-wise London got it right. Lord Coe and his team delivered more than we could have hoped and his emotional closing ceremony speech reflected what the nation felt. The volunteers were brilliant, no wonder they got the loudest cheer on Sunday; tireless, endlessly cheerful and always engaging with the crowds.
So who got it wrong? Well the doom merchants top the list here! I have no issue with someone who says "I have no interest in sport, I'm out of here", I happen to think they are certifiable but then again I would. No, the one thing that grated with me the most was that oily rag of a publication - the Daily Mail. Two weeks before the Games they were lambasting the BBC for employing 750 to cover the Olympics. HOW IN GOD'S NAME DO THE DAILY MAIL HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE NEEDED? From the coverage I watched (every second when I wasn't actually at an event), Auntie (an institution that regular readers know I am not above laying into heavily) needed a few more! There were screens showing venue after venue with things about to start without any commentators. The main presenters seemed to spend half their time charging around London's transport system in order to present first Equestrian, then Beach Volleyball and finally Water Polo all in the space of two hours. My favourite moment, however, of the Mail's insidious attempts to stir up the chattering suburban middle class wretches into a froth of indignation was the inside back page on Wednesday 1st August. They produced a chart showing what funding had been given to various sports and the returns on that investment. Among others they laid into both canoeing and judo. The following day GB won a gold and silver in the canoe slalom and Gemma Gibbons won judo silver. The Mail no doubt will claim it was down to them, but in reality all it appears to do is lay into Britain and then claim glory when we win, it really is a pretty odious publication.
We are now just under two weeks away from the Paralympics, which has already smashed all records for ticket sales. It will, one hopes, be another remarkable triumph for London and the country as a whole and will, I am sure, prove again that this nation has an amazing appetite for great sporting drama.
So as a personal round up of the finest 17 days of sporting drama ever, a few of my own highlights and additional observations:
Best celebration: Jade Jones winning Taekwondo gold.
Most emotional moment: Katherine Grainger finally shaking the silver monkey off her back and getting gold in the double sculls.
Biggest cheer: Gemma Gibbons when she defeated the French world champion in her semi in the Judo.
Dullest gold medal winner interviewee: Accountant Ed Mckeever, but boy can he make a canoe travel fast!
Biggest cheer for a non-Brit (who wasn't called Bolt): Cheering Phelps on to his final individual gold in the 100m fly in the Aquatic Centre, it was truly deafening.
Top lump in throat moment: Sir Chris Hoy, no wait, Mo. No, no, no it's Katherine, ooohhh perhaps it's Laura? I give up, it felt like there was one every 20 minutes.
Person least likely to be invited to dinner: the cycling Commissaire.
Best facial expression: Katherine Copeland having won the lightweight double sculls.
Best smile: Easiest one of the lot this - Boxing's Nicola Adams.
Biggest shock: Was tempted to say Greg Rutherford, but actually it was big Roger not really appearing in the tennis final, even if Andy Murray did play brilliantly.
Latest crush: Charlotte Dujardin.
All the girls' latest crush: Tom Daley (again!).
Coolest Brit: Bradley Wiggins, just over Ben Ainslie.
Coolest non-Brit: Usain Bolt, obviously....
Best quote: Bradley Wiggins commenting on the shape of endurance cyclists "I think one of the great things about being a sprinter like Chris Hoy is that you have got an amazing body to show off. I just look like Rodney Trotter."
Favourite non-athlete quote (as provided by one of you): "Until Sunday they thought we were shit at sport and good at music!"
Favourite image of the Games: Difficult to say anything other than Usain and Mo sharing a podium and mimicking the other's celebration.
My favourite bit: All of it! But as you all know I have a weakness when it comes to a girl from Sheffield, so if there has to be JUST one, then it has to be Jess coming off the final bend in the 800m, knowing she had won the gold already but she just had to win that final race too....
Good luck to Rio and Pele rather trumped the Spice Girls.
Thank you London, thank you Seb, thank you to all the athletes from all the countries, thank you to all the people who came to Britain to watch, thank you again to the brilliant volunteers and to our Armed Forces who made us all feel safe. Thanks also to all the people around the country for supporting the games in such numbers, we all made ourselves proud of our nation.
Finally the biggest thank you goes to the IOC delegate who apparently hit the wrong voting button on 6th July 2005 and gave London the Games by a single vote over Paris, you gave me the best two and a bit weeks of my life and it is difficult being grumpy when you are enjoying yourself.
In practical terms, logistically they got it right, OK there was some major delays on the roads on the first couple of days then everyone steered clear of the main arterial roads into town and London's mean streets had tumbleweed blowing down them. The tubes were busy but manageable and it was fun speaking with a small Frenchman whose head was lodged beneath my chin on the Jubilee line last Monday evening heading for Stratford. The Javelin train was fab once you got to the front of the queue. Talking of queues we had been led to believe that getting into the venues was going to make the carnage at T3 five weeks ago look like a stroll in the park. My experience, and that of everyone else I have spoken to, was the polar opposite. The longest wait I experienced was under two minutes to get through the scanners run by our brilliant Armed Forces.
People-wise London got it right. Lord Coe and his team delivered more than we could have hoped and his emotional closing ceremony speech reflected what the nation felt. The volunteers were brilliant, no wonder they got the loudest cheer on Sunday; tireless, endlessly cheerful and always engaging with the crowds.
So who got it wrong? Well the doom merchants top the list here! I have no issue with someone who says "I have no interest in sport, I'm out of here", I happen to think they are certifiable but then again I would. No, the one thing that grated with me the most was that oily rag of a publication - the Daily Mail. Two weeks before the Games they were lambasting the BBC for employing 750 to cover the Olympics. HOW IN GOD'S NAME DO THE DAILY MAIL HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE NEEDED? From the coverage I watched (every second when I wasn't actually at an event), Auntie (an institution that regular readers know I am not above laying into heavily) needed a few more! There were screens showing venue after venue with things about to start without any commentators. The main presenters seemed to spend half their time charging around London's transport system in order to present first Equestrian, then Beach Volleyball and finally Water Polo all in the space of two hours. My favourite moment, however, of the Mail's insidious attempts to stir up the chattering suburban middle class wretches into a froth of indignation was the inside back page on Wednesday 1st August. They produced a chart showing what funding had been given to various sports and the returns on that investment. Among others they laid into both canoeing and judo. The following day GB won a gold and silver in the canoe slalom and Gemma Gibbons won judo silver. The Mail no doubt will claim it was down to them, but in reality all it appears to do is lay into Britain and then claim glory when we win, it really is a pretty odious publication.
We are now just under two weeks away from the Paralympics, which has already smashed all records for ticket sales. It will, one hopes, be another remarkable triumph for London and the country as a whole and will, I am sure, prove again that this nation has an amazing appetite for great sporting drama.
So as a personal round up of the finest 17 days of sporting drama ever, a few of my own highlights and additional observations:
Best celebration: Jade Jones winning Taekwondo gold.
Most emotional moment: Katherine Grainger finally shaking the silver monkey off her back and getting gold in the double sculls.
Biggest cheer: Gemma Gibbons when she defeated the French world champion in her semi in the Judo.
Dullest gold medal winner interviewee: Accountant Ed Mckeever, but boy can he make a canoe travel fast!
Biggest cheer for a non-Brit (who wasn't called Bolt): Cheering Phelps on to his final individual gold in the 100m fly in the Aquatic Centre, it was truly deafening.
Top lump in throat moment: Sir Chris Hoy, no wait, Mo. No, no, no it's Katherine, ooohhh perhaps it's Laura? I give up, it felt like there was one every 20 minutes.
Person least likely to be invited to dinner: the cycling Commissaire.
Best facial expression: Katherine Copeland having won the lightweight double sculls.
Best smile: Easiest one of the lot this - Boxing's Nicola Adams.
Biggest shock: Was tempted to say Greg Rutherford, but actually it was big Roger not really appearing in the tennis final, even if Andy Murray did play brilliantly.
Latest crush: Charlotte Dujardin.
All the girls' latest crush: Tom Daley (again!).
Coolest Brit: Bradley Wiggins, just over Ben Ainslie.
Coolest non-Brit: Usain Bolt, obviously....
Best quote: Bradley Wiggins commenting on the shape of endurance cyclists "I think one of the great things about being a sprinter like Chris Hoy is that you have got an amazing body to show off. I just look like Rodney Trotter."
Favourite non-athlete quote (as provided by one of you): "Until Sunday they thought we were shit at sport and good at music!"
Favourite image of the Games: Difficult to say anything other than Usain and Mo sharing a podium and mimicking the other's celebration.
My favourite bit: All of it! But as you all know I have a weakness when it comes to a girl from Sheffield, so if there has to be JUST one, then it has to be Jess coming off the final bend in the 800m, knowing she had won the gold already but she just had to win that final race too....
Good luck to Rio and Pele rather trumped the Spice Girls.
Thank you London, thank you Seb, thank you to all the athletes from all the countries, thank you to all the people who came to Britain to watch, thank you again to the brilliant volunteers and to our Armed Forces who made us all feel safe. Thanks also to all the people around the country for supporting the games in such numbers, we all made ourselves proud of our nation.
Finally the biggest thank you goes to the IOC delegate who apparently hit the wrong voting button on 6th July 2005 and gave London the Games by a single vote over Paris, you gave me the best two and a bit weeks of my life and it is difficult being grumpy when you are enjoying yourself.
Sunday 5 August 2012
Gold Rush
I had the greatest day of my sporting life on Friday. In the Olympic stadium to watch Jess run the fastest ever 100m hurdles in heptathlon history was inspiring and very damaging to the vocal chords. The atmosphere was unlike anything I have ever experienced, yes the aquatic centre was probably more ear shattering, but for an outdoor arena it beats anything I have ever heard. Unsurprisingly it being us Brits we cheered on Jess' opponents in the High Jump as well (well some did, anyway - there are limits). When she cleared 1.93 the stadium shook.
During the afternoon we found one of the very rare spaces in front of one of the mega screens in the East Park and watched the cyclists do what they do best - win. And boy did they win! Gold medals? Pah! We've got a few world records to set as well and some Aussies to crush. Around us thousands, probably tens of thousands, of fellow Brits roared their approval. Earlier some Swiss spectators had got a little tetchy when the screen swapped from Big Roger at 12 all against Del Potro to the Velodrome, but hey we're not in Zurich are we?
We then scooted round to the aforementioned aquatic centre to be deafened by roars for Michael Phelps and, above all, Becky Adlington, sadly no gold for GB here but the impressive US team notched up victory after victory. Heading home feeling utterly emotionally drained we were again bowled over by the volunteers and military personnel's friendly, cheerful, helpful and in many cases highly amusing demeanour. Every one smiles the whole time and says in a non McDonalds way "how are you?" and "have great day!" and they mean it. Interestingly the only very few people we have found to be anything other than charming are those being paid to usher people about, people from the crowd control and security companies like G4S.
Up early yesterday morning to head to Paris for a wedding. We arrived at St Pancras to find a queue for security that would have meant we would be lucky to get to Paris by 3.30 let alone Poitiers where the wedding was being held, so we turned around and headed to the sofa. Now as sorry as I was to miss the wedding every cloud has etc...
Well I am not sure anything I say can add to what we experienced yesterday, it rained golds down on us and I had shouted myself hoarse by the time Kat and Sophie crossed the line at Eton Dorney. We watched as a certain female athlete I have a bit of a soft spot for moved herself into a position that made a gold all but certain before her final event. Then the girls tore the Yanks apart in the Cycling Team Pursuit. Finally the miracle hour was upon us, Jess decided that she was buggered if anyone was going to cross the line before her and the "poster girl" of the games delivered what for me was the gold I wanted more than any other. Blow me down if Greg Rutherford went and did the same thing, OK he went into the final ranked as world no 1 this year, but every other competitor in the final had a better personal best than him. Huge cheer when the American Will Clay did the honourable thing and strolled into the pit rather than leap.
Mo Farah has experienced more disappointments than most other British athletes, mainly down to nasty Ethiopians and Kenyans ganging up on him and snatching the medals like thieves in the night after dear old Mo had done all the hard work. This time thanks to a Cuban coach and the "special relationship" with his coaching partner Galen Rupp (surely a name that deserves to be a character in a Looney Tunes cartoon?), he refused to be bullied and Mo delivered. SIX GOLDS IN ONE DAY!
On Tuesday there was gloom - when were we going to win gold? Today Team Britain stands on a precipice, teetering on the edge of obliterating all our expectations and getting so much gold that we could replace the lot that Gordon effing Brown sold off for coppers in the late Nineties!
We are seeing the best of Britain and Britain at its best, long may it continue.
Oh, and one final note. On Wednesday last week some of my Australian friends were crowing on Facebook that we were trailing behind "sporting powerhouses Slovenia, Lithuania, Georgia, Ukraine, Hungary and Romania" in the medal table. Well my dear Aussie friends, where are you? Come on, lets be having you!
During the afternoon we found one of the very rare spaces in front of one of the mega screens in the East Park and watched the cyclists do what they do best - win. And boy did they win! Gold medals? Pah! We've got a few world records to set as well and some Aussies to crush. Around us thousands, probably tens of thousands, of fellow Brits roared their approval. Earlier some Swiss spectators had got a little tetchy when the screen swapped from Big Roger at 12 all against Del Potro to the Velodrome, but hey we're not in Zurich are we?
We then scooted round to the aforementioned aquatic centre to be deafened by roars for Michael Phelps and, above all, Becky Adlington, sadly no gold for GB here but the impressive US team notched up victory after victory. Heading home feeling utterly emotionally drained we were again bowled over by the volunteers and military personnel's friendly, cheerful, helpful and in many cases highly amusing demeanour. Every one smiles the whole time and says in a non McDonalds way "how are you?" and "have great day!" and they mean it. Interestingly the only very few people we have found to be anything other than charming are those being paid to usher people about, people from the crowd control and security companies like G4S.
Up early yesterday morning to head to Paris for a wedding. We arrived at St Pancras to find a queue for security that would have meant we would be lucky to get to Paris by 3.30 let alone Poitiers where the wedding was being held, so we turned around and headed to the sofa. Now as sorry as I was to miss the wedding every cloud has etc...
Well I am not sure anything I say can add to what we experienced yesterday, it rained golds down on us and I had shouted myself hoarse by the time Kat and Sophie crossed the line at Eton Dorney. We watched as a certain female athlete I have a bit of a soft spot for moved herself into a position that made a gold all but certain before her final event. Then the girls tore the Yanks apart in the Cycling Team Pursuit. Finally the miracle hour was upon us, Jess decided that she was buggered if anyone was going to cross the line before her and the "poster girl" of the games delivered what for me was the gold I wanted more than any other. Blow me down if Greg Rutherford went and did the same thing, OK he went into the final ranked as world no 1 this year, but every other competitor in the final had a better personal best than him. Huge cheer when the American Will Clay did the honourable thing and strolled into the pit rather than leap.
Mo Farah has experienced more disappointments than most other British athletes, mainly down to nasty Ethiopians and Kenyans ganging up on him and snatching the medals like thieves in the night after dear old Mo had done all the hard work. This time thanks to a Cuban coach and the "special relationship" with his coaching partner Galen Rupp (surely a name that deserves to be a character in a Looney Tunes cartoon?), he refused to be bullied and Mo delivered. SIX GOLDS IN ONE DAY!
On Tuesday there was gloom - when were we going to win gold? Today Team Britain stands on a precipice, teetering on the edge of obliterating all our expectations and getting so much gold that we could replace the lot that Gordon effing Brown sold off for coppers in the late Nineties!
We are seeing the best of Britain and Britain at its best, long may it continue.
Oh, and one final note. On Wednesday last week some of my Australian friends were crowing on Facebook that we were trailing behind "sporting powerhouses Slovenia, Lithuania, Georgia, Ukraine, Hungary and Romania" in the medal table. Well my dear Aussie friends, where are you? Come on, lets be having you!
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