Do, do, speak amongst yourselves!
I feel like Julie Haris.
Great showing by Britain in the Olympics! All set for London 2012!
It’s so embarrasasing. Had I wanted to live in East Germany, all CCTV and successful athletes, I would have moved there at the time. Now it seems to have moved here
I’m delighted for all the individual athletes, mind you, particularly those who aren’t on performance-enhancing drugs (there must be some, one imagines). I just object to being told to rejoice. Theirs are no achievements of mine and vicarious pride only really works within a family, not a nation.
One of my favourite stories about British sport is from an American journalist who played games of Ping Pong with a British passenger to pass the time on their way across the Atlantic (this is before air travel was common). The Brit was the better player, but to the astonishment of the American would apologise after winning each point. “Oh, sorry old man”, “Lucky shot, that”, etc, etc. (Apologies if I have already put this on ninme).
As Boris observed, paraphrasing the football song, “Ping pong’s coming home!”
There’s no point in being offensively superior – a sporting contest is only a sporting contest and says nothing about the wider merits or otherwise of a given country. Otherwise East Germany might have claimed to be a successful society.
Having said which, one point of agreement between Australians and Yorkshiremen, and not universally understood elsewhere, is that, while one should play the game as hard and as fairly as possible, and derive enjoyment from the simple act of doing so, you don’t fully enjoy a cricket match unless you win as well. But it isn’t a matter of life and death. As the great Keith Miller, Australian war hero and cricketer of the very highest standards, once observed when asked about the pressures under which modern cricketers perform, “Pressure is having a Messerschmitt up your a**se”.
Haha! I hadn’t heard that one before! And I can just hear him saying it in that gruff, gravelly voice. Yes, I get the impression that Keith Miller and Freddie Trueman had a fair bit in common.
I know exactly what Red is talking about. Every time I turned on the television if it wasn’t an American TV drama it was the BBC or ITV or Sky making fools of themselves over a couple of gold medalists. Lord they’re acting like a small South American country. All hysterical and with nothing else going on to talk about.
I wish they’d have played a documentary on the building of cathedrals instead. We walked clear up to the top of St Paul’s yesterday (almost killed Peter’s already-suffering right foot but after spending 20 pounds to get in — to a church — damned if I wasn’t going to spend the afternoon there) and I just don’t get it. Moern man can’t tile a bathroom without it coming apart in ten years but how did they get those statues up there?
Incidentally, Red, don’t suppose you’ve been getting any emails from me since I’ve been here?
Yup, I have indeed.
Fred Trueman held Keith Miller in the highest possible regard. Told me that himself.
Happt Bradman centenary, Brett! And for those of an American persuasion, happy LBJ centenary, former colonist! Not that they’ll talk about him in Denver.
Thanks, Red. The ABC are doing a program on Bradman marking the anniversary – in amongst the BBC documentaries (which they get cheap) on the building of cathedrals.
Well, for long enough Bradman loomed as large in Australian national mythology as does St Paul’s Cathedral in English. Possibly more largely.
Funny character, Bradman, his came from the same part of Suffolk/Cambridgeshire as some of my non-Yorkshire forebears and in old age was the spitting image of my uncle Eric. Not that that makes him funny at all. It’s more the way that his Irish team-mates – O’Reilly, Fingleton – didn’t seem to care all that much for him at all. Being a Freemason didn’t help I suppose.
I’ve just come back from meeting ninme and Peter. They are two extremely pleasant young people. Very nice to look at, but a good deal nicer to talk to.
Well, that’s just great! I hope you had a pint for the non-present ninmates.
In the lore of the firm I work for it is said that one had to be a Freemason to get anywhere. I think that was not uncommon in Bradman’s day. Now just a few more years will see the end of it.
Pints were had. I’m sure one or two could be allotted for the non-present.
Seriously though, I think I’m going to trawl Netflix for Cathedrals documentaries. Any suggestions?
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