New design after some rather less than complimentary feedback about the last one. Personally I think this new photo looks like I am sweating rather too much and had a hard night on the tiles (which actually is an accurate reflection), however a certain individual says it is more flattering. Hey ho what do I know? (almost the beginning of a Ramones classic there). And yes I have tried to reduce the size but as yet have had no frikking offers from web designers as to how to make this look better. It's me here, so don't expect miracles, I am still getting over the fact that still art will never be my metier.

Also pointed out by a teetotaller that I had miss-spelt one of my favourite bands in my profile, nigh on inexcusable but I had had a drink when I was doing it!

Have "a heroes and legends" sporting theme bubbling up. Just either looking for the time or more likely the requisite quantity of vin blanc et rouge to get it properly formulated. Equally something on the Tour de France, so if the multitude out there has a preference as to which comes first then let me know. I will almost certainly do the other.....

Made the mistake of divulging my thoughts as posted earlier about the Wimbledon "audiences" to some sporting journalists yesterday, they all appeared to have missed this simple observation but nodded in a fiendish manner ("hey got an article here...!") when I stopped spouting, so if you see any articles espousing my views, please let me know. A good lawyer is worth their salt when it comes to plagiarism.

Its a small world

Heaven's above!  We have people reading this stuff in Russia, Singapore, Australia, Hong Kong and Canada. Just wish I had a cat in hell's idea of how you have found out about me and much more importantly who the hell the anonymous posters are? So if any of you out there know how I can let you know that I have ranted again (i.e. setting up what I believe is called an RSS feed) please let me know.

Loving the feedback by the way. Just remember that wearing specs at the end of my nose, shouting at things that I shouldn't and behaving in a worryingly belligerent fashion, when I am old enough to take a deep breath, is who and what I am. I was rightly accused of being a bit sterile earlier today and that is frankly horrendous.

Apparently I am not allowed to shoot foxes in the garden. We have panelled/slatted fences. Who am I going to kill other than me and the mangy child eater? My choice surely?

Sporting?

Apparently I should be watching and applauding big Rog's victory.....well, sorry I have better things to do than celebrate a Swiss victory on our home soil. It is frankly galling to see the joy writ large on the audience's face and Sue bloody Barker cheering on the achievements of Federer. Irritated? Too right.

Seven long years

Seven years ago to the day I was listening to the BBC on line when I heard the words "The International Olympic Committee has the honour of announcing that the games of 30th Olympiad are awarded to the city of London". I have rarely felt more proud and fiercely British and even now find myself welling with emotion when I watch the reaction in Trafalgar Square on the day - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Dt4jjS_dyA .  I received many magnanimous messages of congratulations from friends all around France; let's face it whether it is true or not rumours still abound that one of the committee inadvertently pressed the wrong button so we won by one vote.

The following day, London was the victim of a heinous act of terrorism that came from within. It brought the importance of the Olympics in to sharp focus. The United Kingdom has unquestionably suffered greatly in the intervening years and the argument as to whether we should be investing billions in the games was valid, right up until the point that we were awarded the Games.

So we find ourselves on the cusp of witnessing the greatest sporting event there is and it is here, in our own country and in my home town. Millions have lined the streets to watch the torch relay - there were 40,000 on the streets of Lowestoft for pete's sake, however many will there be when it reaches London?!

Legacy is the buzz word and rightly so. The Games have regenerated a part of London that was polluted and impoverished in every sense of the word and may never have had the requisite money spent on it in decades. We now have state of the art sporting arenas that will be the envy of the world and which will give the facilities for future generations to become sporting icons. The Games of 2012 will be their inspiration. More importantly there will be a part of our city where Londoners will want to live and bring up their families. London is not Athens or Sydney, where facilities lie crumbling, it is and always has been a vibrant, cosmopolitan and dynamic city led by the people.

10,500 competitors are about to arrive to take part in an event that will be the pinnacle of their careers (OK tennis and football excluded - that will be subject of a serious rant another time, I suspect!). London is the first city to host three Olympic Games (the last time was 1948 and the country was on its knees then as well). Tickets are, to all intents and purposes, sold out. Millions of Britons are excited beyond belief and yet we still have the people the length and breadth of the country who are saying they think we should not be hosting the games, one nay sayer I heard described it as a "jamboree"! A jamboree is a gathering of scouts for heaven's sake.

We have an opportunity to show the world that the UK can throw a party that the natives are embracing, that we can organise an event that was prepared months ago, we are a nation that is delighted to welcome the rest of the world and that London is still the greatest city in the word and we are going to cheer everyone on whatever their sex, colour or creed. OK we will probably cheer a bit more if they are in a British vest!

So bring it on, the greatest of the great sporting events, in our our own country, in our capital city and let us show the world that the word Great in in our national name is no self-aggrandisement. Let us hope and pray for British medals, but more let us hope and pray that the passion that most of have for our country shines through and shows the world that we are proud to to be called British.

Oh! And can Jess win gold, please?

Any idea what sport is?

God! Wimbledon really is the nadir of sports events, two weeks of screeching middle aged women (don't accuse me of being sexist, just look at the audience - YES AN AUDIENCE, NOT A CROWD) who frankly have no idea what a foot fault is or whether it requires callipers to resolve the issue, hooting and hollering about players whose names they vaguely recognise and GENUINELY getting excited about the result.

The oohs and ahhhs are truly embarrassing. 

Let's hope that all the favourites lose and they have nothing to cheer for, at least until next year.......please, please, please......yeh, like that is going to happen! 

Here we go, here we go, here we go...

Sorry, dear reader, I have been a tad tied up with my new life. Back in the real world England have been knocked out of the Euros, thank heaven as I was searching for a newly painted walls to give me some entertainment. England, Ireland and Wales have been beaten with varying degrees of difficulty by the southern hemisphere rugby superpowers whilst the Sweaties manage to beat the Aussies (closer to the truth is that the weather beat them - always been fair weather performers the men in gold) and then stumble past Fiji and Samoa and come back home as the heroes of the north. Go figure. The world is about to come to a finish if Mervyn King's proclamations are to be believed and yet the euro is still trading at around 20% above what should be its true value against both the dollar and sterling. Go figure again. The torch continues to find corners of the UK that most of us have avoided for safety reasons for many years. The Queen is having to cosy up to an individual who 20 years ago was considered to be promoting terrorism and petrol is not going up after all, due to the political equivalent of 40 recently decapitated chickens now running the country. Looking forward to the end of world, but only after we've got the Euros, one day series against the Aussies, the Tour de France (a Brit to win according to the bookies), the test series against the South Africans, the Olympics and who knows Mclaren may find a set of mechanics who can actually change a set of Lewis' tyres in less than a minute, before we get there.

Let's not mention Wimbledon!

Friends and Rivals

Ruddy hell! Well done ITV they've only gone and got Keano and Viera sitting next to each other, hell's teeth that's like getting Maggie and Kinnock cosying on the sofa circa 1988.

Desperately hoping that there is some sort of set to in this first game that leads them to renew acquaintances properly at full and/or half time. Imagine the disaproval emanting from the offices of Associated Newspapers.

So let's hope we are not about to set off on the Euro journey that involves a whole load of disparate nations trying to prove their worth, before the Germans get everyone to kowtow to them by lifting a trophy.....yeh, yeh that is EXACTLY what is going to happen (mixed metaphors but plus ca change!).

Finally, a footballer that I loved watching play the game in the Eighties and had admired greatly has, like so many others, become a victim of his own self importance. Michel Platini is in danger of believing his own verbage, which makes him a step away from Splatter (yep, I know). European football needs better, we do not need to plumb the depths that Sepp has set.

Come on anyone who can play football, and that's unlikely (sadly) to be Ingerlaaaand
.....