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Back near the beginning of the COVID-19 crisis I wrote a post (pleasantly entitled ‘Make Yourself Happy‘ – fortunately without an exclamation mark) in which I reported on one of the UK national newspaper’s re-posting to their digital site of the ‘live’ minute by minute’ commentary of a favourite footie fixture from some point in the (middle)-distant past (1971 as I recall) – a notion that has, I observe, since been picked up and run with by all and sundry. My observations may have been ‘voiced’ in a tone that the casual reader – someone who doesn’t know me better – might have mistaken for cynicism (Who, me? Never!).

The problem that the broadsheet had accurately and most presciently identified is, of course, that during an extended lock-down – in which none of the usual newsworthy happenings – er… happens – there is nothing much left about which to write – apart from the wretched pandemic itself.

By now even the less fleet-footed amongst the gentle readers of these ramblings will already have figured out where this is going…

Yes – apart from gardening and… um!… well, that’s about it – there is not too much else to write about when one’s existence has been shrunk from our usual mad gay whirl to a really rather limited routine. I am not – of course – complaining. One is – after all – a long time de*d!

So – in the spirit of The Guardian’s enterprising sports editor I intend to replay coverage – in ‘real time‘ – of our legendary trip to the UK and Europe of this time last year (observe the date on the luggage tag in the accompanying photo). I will be revisiting – virtually – some of the places to which we went and some of the friends and family with whom we spent time a year ago. I will also, of course, be revisiting – somewhat wistfully – the Greek islands. Look out for the posting of some of the photos that didn’t make the cut first time round.

Of course, the whole point about keeping a regular blog is that one has an enduring record of what one did in previous years – and of when one did it. As this is all (somewhat rashly) available publicly (as it were) there is nothing to stop the gentle reader from glancing back through the archives to view the postings from a year ago. What I will be doing, however, is looking back through my rose-tinted spectacles with the 20/20 benefit of hindsight.

One of the first observations to make is how jolly lucky we were to have finally settled on traveling last year. Who knows when we might be able to do so again…

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“If the reality makes you unhappy, make yourself happy with the surreal”

 Mehmet Murat ildan

We live in unprecedented times – concerning which I feel that I have more to say (though I am not yet ready so to do). For now – therefore – the ever so slightly surreal!

It is a given that the Brits are sports mad. So too are the Canadians of course, though for very different sports. So too – one suspects – are just about all other races that do dwell upon this usually pleasant planet.

Now – in the light of the current COVID-19 crisis and with all good folk very sensibly following the official advice and socially isolating themselves (and if you are not then you should be!) our lives have changed dramatically overnight. Maybe we are working from home. Maybe we are just staying at home. Either way, finding ourselves restricted in what we can and can’t do can be a fretful and stressful experience, particularly as we can currently see no resolution to the situation anytime soon.

With time on our hands and in search of stimulation it is no surprise that at some point – having exhausted other avenues – thoughts turn to sport. Since we must stay home so as not to spread the virus what could be better than hunkering down in front of the TV to watch our own favourite sport.

Except – of course – that in such times of national or international crisis sport is inevitably one of the first things that has to go by the wayside. In just about all sports current programs, leagues and competitions have been postponed or even abandoned. Who knows if the 2020 Six Nations will ever be completed? Certainly the English Premiership has been abandoned – as has the footie! As – of course – have other sports here in Canada and indeed all over the world.

At this point the TV channels – with a view to keeping the customer satisfied – naturally raid their archives to bring us re-runs of favourite matches and contests from days gone by. Nothing very surprising about that, one might think, but I saw something yesterday on The Guardian website that took the whole thing to a new and somewhat bizarre level.

What The Guardian was doing was replaying the classic 1970 FA Cup Final (footie!) between Chelsea and Leeds United. Being a newspaper, however, they were not screening the match itself, they were doing a real-time minute by minute commentary – starting at the same time as did the original match – and including reports of post match interviews and analysis and so forth.

Now – to do this they must have been watching a recording of the match and then typing in updates as though it was actually happening. What boggles my mind is that there are undoubtedly videos of the game available on the InterWebNet – so why would anyone sit watching The Guardian website for written updates on something that not only happened a long time ago, but that they themselves could also just as easily watch online. What is more, this was apparently just the first of a proposed series of such ‘replays’.

Well – I am, sure that there were those who really enjoyed  (or re-enjoyed) the experience – but I can’t help thinking that “There’s nowt so queer as folk!”.

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Ouch!

Image from PixnioIt is difficult to know quite what – if anything – to write on the subject of England’s performance against South Africa in last Saturday’s final of the 2019 Rugby World Cup.

The first thing to do though – obviously – is to congratulate South Africa on their comprehensive win – an achievement that looked no more than an outside possibility in the earlier stages of the competition, particularly when the All Blacks comprehensively out-thought them in their opening encounter.

The fact was, however, that in the final they really wanted the win with a fervour that England couldn’t match. One might point out that the game had still been close with fifteen minutes remaining on the clock and that the two South African tries came in part because the English were chasing the game and that opportunities arose as a result in the way that they tend to do in such circumstances. That would be an injustice, however, given the way that the Springboks had dominated the English in the set-pieces throughout.

It became apparent very quickly that England were not on this occasion going to match the fluent control that marked their splendid and comprehensive win over the All Blacks a week before. The first handling errors came very quickly – always a sign that a side is subject to a degree of pressure that they have not previously encountered. Given the worlds of difference between semi-final and final performances it almost felt for a moment that we were watching the Scots – who are much more prone to such swings in fortune (and accomplishment) from one week to the next.

No – the key thing at this stage is to congratulate the new world champions, but at the same time to laud the English for the way they set about the competition; for their performances – in particular in seeing off the Australians in the quarter-final and the previously all-conquering All Blacks in the semi-final – and for ending up as very worthy runners-up.

Worth noting also that England are in the main a young side and that they are only going to get better.

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Well – here we are – the end is in sight… with regard to the 2019 Rugby World Cup anyway! This Saturday coming sees a repeat (in terms of the combatants) of the 2007 final in Paris between England and the Springboks.

The semi-finals turned out broadly in line with the suggestions that I advanced in my last post on the subject.

England proved that they did after all have too much for the All Blacks on this occasion. Indeed they made the Kiwis look quite ordinary for considerable portions of the match in a manner that one rarely sees. As the second half wore on it became all too clear that the All Blacks did not know how to break England down. One side effect of this powerful and sparkling performance is that England have subsequently been made somewhat unexpected favourites to take the crown… which may not altogether suit them.

My prediction for the other semi-final – between Wales and South Africa – was that it would be a dour affair in which each team would attempt to out-muscle the other. The match would go down to the wire and one side would win at the last gasp by three points. The only thing that I got wrong was that I thought Wales would sneak it, whereas in fact the Saffers did so.

Back in the early stages of the pool section of the tournament the All Blacks convincingly beat the Springboks. They did so by patiently absorbing all of the South African pressure and waiting for the chinks to appear in their armour. When these duly did so the All Blacks scored two rapid tries in a five minute period and killed the contest stone dead.

England will doubtless try – and should be able – to do something similar. There is a bit of a history now of teams winning heroically against the odds in World Cup semis (usually against the All Blacks) and then having nothing left for the final. Eddie Jones – the England coach – has had experience of this before, not least in 2003 when he managed Australia to the one World Cup final that England have (to date) actually won. I am going to assume that – armed with that experience – he will know how to keep English noses pressed to the grindstone for long enough for them to be triumphant.

Incidentally, back in 2007 England were not expected to do well in the tournament. The Girl and I had booked ourselves a cheeky Autumn break in the Algarve which just happened to coincide with the final. When England got through – against all odds – we had to scurry around the town in which we were staying looking for somewhere to watch the match. Fortunately one of the restaurants in the main square was smart enough to have arranged screens overlooking their outside tables. We were thus able to watch England losing to the Springboks (and we still maintain that that Mark Cueto try was good!) while enjoying a decent al fresco dinner on a balmy Mediterranean evening.

Anyway – go England for this Saturday!

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“If you can’t take a punch, you should play table tennis”

Pierre Berbizier – former French rugby player 

It is difficult at the moment not to continue with the rugby theme of recent posts. In fact, I promised in my last such that I would make some mention of home nations (UK) other than the Scots – who have themselves now sadly been ‘sent homeward to think again…’

This weekend just passed saw the quarter finals of the 2019 Rugby World Cup. We are now down to the business end of the tournament – having entered the knockout stages.

Of the quarters it must be said that the results pretty much went the way – and in the fashion – that one might have expected… although there is always room in rugby for things to run counter to any presumption.

The English took on Australia. Now – there has been much talk of late about an Aussie renaissance, but frankly the English have had their number for some years now. It was about time that the men in white turned in a truly good performance and they duly did so. There might be some gripes about them having had the run of the ball – getting the lucky breaks and suchlike – but what actually happened was that they very coolly let the Australians throw the ball around and generally run themselves a bit ragged, whilst at the same time exerting the sort of pressure that would inevitably lead to Aussie mistakes. When these occurred they were appropriately taken advantage of with clinical proficiency. The English are starting to look good and are – frankly – the only side that one could imagine mounting a challenge to…

…the All Blacks! Quite a lot has been made of the fact that the much-fancied Irish actually beat them twice in the last couple of seasons. A fair bit was also ignored concerning the recent dip in Irish form that coincided rather unfortunately with the ABs coming on song themselves just in time for the big event. The inevitable happened… The All Blacks blew the Irish away and now look pretty much unstoppable with regard to retaining the trophy for the second consecutive time.

The France/Wales game? Well – this one really did go exactly the way that one might have anticipated. Rising to the big occasion the Welsh played as they had been doing a couple of years back – complete rubbish (slight exaggeration for dramatic effect)! They also contrived to squeak a win with their dying breaths. The French did what only the French can do. They displayed in one moment the mercurial talents that have seen them in the past knock the All Blacks out of this very tournament… the next they looked like total novices – handing the ball to the Welsh for them to canter downfield to the try line. Having built a healthy first half lead there was an inevitability about the way one of their locks – Sébastien Vahaamahina – got himself red-carded shortly after the start of the second half. One might imagine that the French despair – but they probably just shrug their shoulders in that familiar Gallic manner.

We all so wanted Japan to continue their magic carpet ride and to beat the South Africans, but frankly that was never going to happen. The Japanese are nowhere near as diminutive overall as they used to be, but the oxen that the Saffers put out to face them had clearly been chosen purely to accentuate the size advantage. There was nothing very attractive about the Saffer win and they had to work hard to get on top of the ceaselessly energetic Japanese, but in the end they duly squashed them.

How will Wales get on against the Boks? I think I may already know the answer to that one.

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Oh well!

With reference to my last post concerning the Rugby World Cup… the good news was that the Scotland/Japan pool match to decide the quarter finalists did indeed go ahead.

Any good news was, however, overwhelmed by the terrible news – the tragic loss of life suffered in Japan as a result of typhoon Hagibis. No amount of other news can in any way compensate for or help with that.

This perspective should not, however, take away anything from the fact that Japan out-played, out-ran and out-thought the Scots and rightly won the match, topped the group and thus won through to the country’s first ever quarter-final place in the world cup.

The tragic losses should also put into perspective the emotional impact on the Scots of being the first of the home nations (in regard to the UK of course) to be dumped out of this year’s cup. Four years ago Scotland were the last of them to be knocked out (controversially) in the quarters by the Australians, so this represents a significant step back.

It is not even that they played badly. They did not. But they were as unable to live with the Japanese as they had been the Irish just a few short weeks back. Given the talent now available to the team they really should be making more progress than they clearly are.

Time – once again – for some serious navel gazing.

PS – I have not yet made any reference to other nations competing in the tournament. There will be time for that as the knockout stages progress. I would like to put in a word for Canada though. In the first three rounds of their pool stages they predictably lost to Italy, to the All Blacks and to the South Africans (tough pool, that one!). They were hoping for some payback in their final pool game against fellow minnows – Namibia. Sadly that was one of the three games to be abandoned because of the typhoon.

Tant pis!

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At this point in the Rugby World Cup four years ago (just before I posted this!) the competition had reached – as it has now – the last round of the pool stages and the quarter final line-ups were taking shaping.

The shock result of the pool stages in 2015 saw lowly Japan defeat the much fancied South Africans in Brighton. As a result the Japanese stood a good chance of making it to the quarter finals for the very first time and were they to do so it would have been at the expense of the Scots, who had – as so often – looked far from convincing.

As it turned out the Scots did just enough to squeak through, leaving Japan as the first side ever to have won three of their four pool matches and still not made it through to the quarters.

The shock result of the pool stages in 2019 saw a somewhat less lowly Japan defeat the much fancied Irish (at that point ranked number two in the world). As a result the Japanese stand a good chance of making it to the quarter finals for the very first time and if they do so it will again be at the expense of the Scots.

Deja vu – all over again!

There is one major difference this time. The Scotland/Japan pool encounter which will seal the progression is scheduled for this Sunday. The other event scheduled for this Sunday in Japan is the tail end of Typhoon ‘Hagibis’ – which has already led to the abandonment of Saturday’s pool fixtures between England and France and Italy and the All Blacks. Both England and France have already qualified and the match would simply have determined who got the top spot in the pool. Italy have some cause to feel aggrieved that their chance to qualify has been snatched from them, but in the real world the fact is that they have never beaten the All Blacks and the odds against them doing so on this occasion are as close to a sure thing as it is possible to be.

The Scots have more cause for concern. If their Sunday match is cancelled the Japanese go through and the Scots go home. If the game does  take place the Scots might still lose (or not win by a four point margin, which is the requirement) but after their shaky start to the tournament with a loss to Ireland they have looked increasingly competent, winning their other two pool games (against minor opposition, granted) at a canter.

The grumbling at the moment is over why the game can not be held over for 24 hours or moved to another location. The rules and regulations of the tournament may well – as is so often the case – prove to be less than fit for purpose in the light of events.

All anyone can do in the meantime is to wait patiently – which ain’t easy!

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Image from PixabayBack in the icy UK the Six Nations championship achieved its annual climax on a thrilling final day of gripping rugby matches. As is the way with this epic challenge some of the participants had reason to be well content with the progress of their campaigns whilst others did not. This year some of those who ended up in the latter camp were not, however, the sides that had been predicted so to do at the outset of the tournament. Nor – clearly – did they themselves expect such an outcome.

For the first time in many a year the Celtic cousins – Ireland, Wales and Scotland – finished the tournament in first, second and third places (respectively). I say ‘many a year’ – I’m not actually sure if this has ever happened before. All power to them, say I!

Many congratulations to the splendid Irish, who not only won the championship on the penultimate weekend but went on to record what is only their third ever Grand Slam. The Welsh may have been slightly surprised to have lost two matches but still to have ended up second in the table (or – knowing them – maybe not!).

For the Scots – third place from three wins represents their best finish for some years. They will not be content with their away record nor with the lack of precision which resulted in a fair number of points being left out on the field. They have made great strides, however, and play an attacking brand of rugby which is admired by supporters of the game of all hues. The manner of their victory in the Calcutta Cup in particular was to be cherished.

As for the remainder of the sides – well, perhaps we will draw a discreet veil over them for now…

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Image from PixabayOf course, the very day that I post a fairly flip piece about the Winter Olympics – and about Canada’s passionate though surely understandable love affair therewith – along comes a performance to take away the breath, to steal the heart and to show up as jejune any paltry attempt at humour.

I refer of course to Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir’s stunning recapture of their Olympic ice dance crown four years after their disappointment in Sochi and their subsequent (but clearly premature) retirement.

Pushed all the way by training partners, the French couple Gabriella Papadakis and Guillaume Cizeron (who set a new world record score in the free dance) Virtue and Moir faced having to set a record themselves were they to retake the top spot. As the scores flashed up to reveal that they had indeed done so the Kickass Canada Girl virtually leapt off the sofa – and was clearly moved to tears.

I was in no position to offer succour as I was myself busy blubbing like a baby. In my case this was less to do with the colour of the medals or the perfect justness of their win, but was entirely elicited by the impossible beauty and passion of their performance, dazzlingly choreographed to the ‘Moulin Rouge’ version of ‘Roxanne‘.

I could not help but be taken back in time to 1984, watching the grainy TV images from Sarajevo of another Olympic ice dance final as Jane Torvill and Christopher Dean stole our hearts to the accompaniment of Ravel’s ‘Bolero‘, taking a straight sweep of perfect 6.0s for artistic merit and changing the sport utterly in the process.

Wow! Many congratulations to Virtue and Moir (and to all involved) and a hearty ‘thank you’ for the great pleasure that you bring to millions.

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Further evidence (should such be required at this stage) that The Girl and I compliment one another nigh-on perfectly might be gleaned from our respective enthusiasms (and the consequent advocacies for those who strive on our behalves) during periods of Olympian endeavour.

The average Brit (and – yes… such a creature does exist, regardless of the protestations of some of those of a more intemperate and extreme ilk) who – like me – grew up marveling that such a diminutive nation could really have instigated or developed quite as many sports and games as it did (only to then cede dominance in them to other more aggressive and single-minded races) has probably been quite taken aback by the UK’s recent Olympic performances.

In the Summer Olympics at least!…

After the usual period of pre-games cynicism and belittlement many of us rapidly become the secret sports-nuts that we as a nation perpetually breed and find ourselves watching all manner of events on TV that, but a few days previously, we not only had no idea were sports at all (let alone Olympic sports!) but further did not know that Brits practiced them to any acceptable level. When we then win some unexpected (to us at least) medal in said contest we rapidly become InterWebNet experts on the matter and claim that we expected all along that our ‘athletes’ would do well.

The Winter Olympics are, of course, a very different story. Save for a glorious and now long-distant chapter in the history of ice dance (a form beloved of one particular sector of society with a fervour only matched by that appertaining to musical theatre) we Brits have, apparently, no winter sports skills at all* – with the strange exception of events which involve throwing ourselves off mountains clinging to some rudimentary and entirely unsuitable piece of hardware the chief characteristic of which is, to all intents and purposes, its cheapness (and please don’t feel the need to regale me with the actual cost of these chimerical devices)!

It is at this point that The Girl – being Canadian – comes into her own.

To be found, in the main, during the summer games loitering around the back of the stands puffing away at an ‘old fashioned’ rather than exerting themselves on field or track – come the winter Canadians suddenly start taking everything incredibly seriously. Should you suggest to your S.O. that – having won a sack-load of silverware already – it wouldn’t be the end of the world should Canada actually lose the hockey (never ice hockey!) to the US, you are likely to find all bedroom privileges curtailed unceremoniously for the foreseeable future.

Canadians have a passion for all snow and ice based sports that ranks alongside any other nation on this irriguous planet. “Quelle surprise” – I hear you mutter (with a slightly smart-arsed reference to the nation’s bi-lingual heritage) – thinking perhaps to add some gibe about the Canadian climate. Well – the fact that we rarely see snow at all at this end of Vancouver Island clearly does nothing to diminish The Girl’s enthusiasm for all things Winter Olympics – and such zeal is, of course, infectious!

So… Go, Canada, go!

 

* I refuse to mention Eddie ‘the Eagle’…

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