A HIT AND MISS WEEK...

The hit of last week was undoubtedly my visit to Southampton University with eldest son, David and grandaughter Sarah. The University itself was fine - large modern campus, nice `halls` and an excellent presentation of the history courses and options available. The Highfield campus is like a town of its own within the city. I could well imagine that it would be possible to live quite happily and comfortably within the confines of the campus without ever venturing into the city of Southampton itself. But that would be to deny the chance to explore some of the city`s history - the Pilgrim Fathers, the Titanic, the legacy of hundreds of years of trading, commerce and conflict - as well as the more modern aspects of the south coast`s foremost metropolis (yes, I know I`m biased.)

After the University Open Day, we went down to Town Quay and parked just in time to see a huge container ship being tugged out of dock and off down Southampton Water. We also saw P&O`s largest cruise ship, Ventura, which was preparing to leave on the evening tide, looking for all the world like a floating block of flats. I had expected Town Quay itself to be more `refined` than on the occasions when my football crew partake of their pre-match almond croissants and coffee at M. Hulot`s Patisserie. However, my expectation was marred by the sight of three armed police officers moving in on an Isle of Wight ferry in the apparent belief that the perpetrator of a robbery in Cowes might be aboard trying to make his getaway. He wasn`t. But it was good to be back in my home port for a few hours. It reminded me that it will be grades and academic options that determine Sarah`s choice, rather than the wistful leanings of a biased grandfather towards any particular location.

The miss of the week was undoubtedly Wimbledon. It`s the last day today - men`s final day - and so far I have just about managed to miss the entire fortnight, despite saturation coverage by the BBC. I happened to hear the odd grunt, shriek and gasp from the ladies earlier in the week (almost a new experience for me) and I believe that our Scottish hero, who has now become British, lost in the semi-final. I imagine he will revert to just being Scottish again. But thankfully I missed the spectacle of the misplaced shouting by the crowd between points (I suspect at least one of whom shouts `Get in the hole` each time Tiger tees off;) I avoided the patronising by the All England Club towards the masses who are permitted to enter their hallowed precincts once a year - at a price, of course; and I missed the hand-wringing depression brought about by the fact that despite £20million of investment in the game each year, we as a nation are still pants at yet another sport we invented. With a family event to attend this afternoon, there`s every chance I will also miss today`s final , which will round the week off nicely.