HERE WE GO AGAIN..

It`s a few weeks now since we had to say goodbye to our wonderful ten year old golden retriever, Barney.  The years we had with him were filled with companionship, loyalty and love.   He was our fifth golden retriever and came after Holly, Botham, Rupert and Henry, all of whom gave us the same enjoyment as did Barney.

For us at least we discovered a pattern of life which meant that as soon as our three sons left home we started getting retrievers and it has gone on ever since.  We also discovered that - again for us at least - our way of dealing with the loss of each of them has been to go and get another.  And so, we have the prospect of a retriever puppy joining us in about a month`s time.   

Mrs. Snopper, who is really the expert in these things, located a reputable breeder at Fordingbridge in the New Forest.  We visited, liked what we saw, paid the deposit and have received regular updates as to the progress the puppies are making.  In a week`s time we will be visiting again, this time to choose which puppy we might have.  And it`s at that point that the realities of having a retriever are brought home.  

It`s a bit like choosing a football club to support, the reality of which is that it is the club which chooses you rather than the other way around.  And we noticed, especially with Barney, that the puppy chooses you - they come up to you an check you out and hopefully like what they see.  

We`ve been thinking about a name for new puppy and had a number of suggestions but we might have settled on Dudley.  One of my favourite actors was Dudley Foster but I`m attracted to the idea that new puppy and I can walk our village streets and, for those of a certain age and long memories,  the two of us might be known as Pete and Dud.   I just hope Greta Bloody Garbo doesn`t turn up.

Quite a day of sport yesterday, not just the dog ends of the football season but also the determined fight back from Dom Bess and Jos Buttler for England in what still seems to be a plucky defeat for England in the first test against Pakistan at Lord`s.

Then there was Chris Froome coming from way back to take the lead in the Giro Italia which ends today with a traditional procession to the finish line.  And Froome will be making cycling history as the first Briton to hold the tours of France, Spain and Italy at the same time.  I fervently hope that the intervention of chemists will not take the edge of his historic achievement.

But  back to yesterday`s footy.  In the morning the announcement came that former ManUre, Real Madrid and Southampton legend Mark ("Sparky") Hughes had penned a three year contract to become Saints first team manager - the title is significant as the last two incumbents have merely been first team coaches.  That didn`t work so it looks as if Sparky has control of transfers rather than simply coaching what he has been given which I hope will bring mid-table obscurity rather than another relegation battle.  We know our place.

And in the afternoon there was the play off final between Fulham ("There`s only one f in Fulham") and Aston Villa to decide which of them gets into the Premier League next season.  I was pleased that Fulham won 1-0 for two or three reasons.  First, they deserved to - their style and quality of football deserves to be played on a higher stage;  next it meant that the serially unpleasant John ("The Leg End") Terry would not make a return to the top flight;  and lastly that the Fulham team included Matt Targett who has been on loan to them from Southampton for much of the season.  Yet another of the Saints` academy graduates and a local Southampton lad.  I wonder if he will stay at Craven Cottage or return to the beautiful south.

And last night we had the Champions League final between Liverpool and Real Madrid.  The Liverpool squad included Sadio Mane, Dejan Lovren, Virgil van Dyke, Nathaniel Clyne and Adam Lallana - it would have been more of their `captures` from Southampton had Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain not been injured.  And it was yet another former Saints player, Gareth Bale, who came on to score two goals for Real which sealed Liverpool`s fate.

Seems to me that there is no escape from the world wide influence that is Southampton Football Club.

BEAM ME UP, SCOTTY...

I may have misread it but I thought I saw a report the other day that you can now ask Alexa to respond to  religious requests.  It seems that if you ask nicely Alexa will provide you with a `prayer for the day` and even recite grace for you before you tuck in to a hearty meal.

It`s a curious business, especially as we now seem to have a piece of artificial semi-intelligence at our disposal to enable some kind of virtual communication with an omnipotent being who may or may not actually exist anyway.

Phasers on stun Mr. Sulo.

IS IT SAFE TO COME OUT NOW?

Having shown great  initiative over the past few days I can report that I managed to avoid just about anything to do with the royal wedding - couldn`t bring myself to watch any of of it on TV although it was hard to avoid things like news bulletins, highlights programmes and a seemingly endless array of references to the great event even on programmes that were supposedly nothing to do with it. 

And for the first time in years I refused to buy a Sunday newspaper in the hope of avoiding the 32-page supplements and all the other fawning nonsense that surrounds royal occasions.  Well, there wasn`t going to be  much football to read about which was a pity as I thought the achievements of teams such as Thatcham Town in the FA Vase final and Brackley in the FA Trophy final deserved at least a bit of coverage.

So I wondered if this morning it was safe to come out now, only to discover a couple of yet more troubling bits of nonsense.  We now have a Duchess of Sussex - yeah, right - who has pronounced herself to be "a woman and a feminist."   Well I knew about the first bit but the second bit made me wonder whether I should not declare to the world that I am a man and a masculinist.   Or maybe I should crawl back under my stone until it really has all died down.

STREET PARTY ?

It might be a bit late to organise one but I think we should have a street party to celebrate this momentous event.

After all, the fact that the Saints managed to avoid relegation by the skin of their teeth is surely something to celebrate.  To be fair......

MY GARDEN`S COMING ALONG NICELY...

  

(Please click on photos for better images)

THANK GOODNESS THAT`S OVER...

And so another Premier League season comes to an end and for us Saints fans it has been a season to forget - almost.   Just a month or so ago I was convinced that we were heading for relegation having endured a dreadful run of results, languishing close to the foot of the table and with an air of despondency and almost resigned acceptance surrounding the club and its supporters.

And then, at long last, the arrival of former Saints player Mark Hughes and his managerial backroom team began to have an impact.  The team became more organised, more determined, more energised and a string of encouraging displays gave the faintest glimmer of hope that survival might still be possible.  

The turning point was the scrappy victory last Tuesday evening away at Swansea which left Saints needing to avoid a catastrophic defeat to Manchester City (and Swansea to win their last game) to guarantee at least one more season in the Cinderella world of the Premier League.  

Yesterday, Swansea duly lost their game with Stoke and, true to form, Saints held out until the fourth minute of added time before conceding the goal which gave the points to City.  And so  my bum has stopped squeaking and the Saints live to fight another day.  But thank goodness that`s all over and the respite of Summer has arrived.  

If anything illustrated the truth behind the above cliche, then it must surely have been the events of yesterday at the extreme ends of the self-styled and allegedly beautiful game.

Now of course, as a Saints fan, I was over the moon with the 1-0 win at Swansea`s Liberty Stadium last night which puts the Saints tantalisingly close to ensuring Premier League survival for another season.  The hope is that, on Sunday, Swansea don`t beat already relegated Stoke 4-0 and the Saints don`t lose to already champions Manchester City 6-0 - if those events or a similar combination of mishaps come to pass then those dancing in the streets of Southampton last night will be brought back to earth with a huge bump.  The fat lady is warming up but que sera, sera is still just about alive.

So much for the `top end` of the game and in direct contrast I learned yesterday that after 125 years, the Maidstone and District Saturday League is to close.  Efforts to attract more teams have failed, leaving the committee with no choice but to call time on the oldest local league in the country.  Now, in the mists of time gone by, I played in the Saturday League for Maidstone Dolphins at a time when it was fiercely competitive and had any number of `divisions` - `The Fins` played in Division 3b, which was really Division 7,  such was the popularity of the local league all those years ago.

It was a different game in the Saturday League back then, of course - all Dubbin, Sloan`s liniment and half an orange and a fag at half time and the `facilities` were, shall we say, quaint.  I recall playing away at Frittenden when the sheep were herded off the pitch just before the game, leading to a game more reminiscent of ballet than football.  But it was fun, enjoyable and I am sorry to see the local league disappear even though the memories linger on.

But, you win some and lose some - Kipling`s twin impostors still prevail and the game of life`s two halves goes on.

ONE OF THOSE DAYS...

Another glorious day with the sun shining and a warm feel to it.  And then it occurs to me just what the day might hold for me and I feel a bit like Charley Brown.

A couple of weeks ago we were in Cornwall and one morning I woke up and couldn`t hear anything out of one ear.  Finally, this afternoon, I have managed to negotiate an appointment with a practice nurse to have it syringed so I hope my hearing will be restored later today.  Pardon?

Then off to put the car in dock to sort out some nasty scratches.  As we were leaving our holiday house in Padstow, the rain was lashing down, visibility was pretty poor and as I reversed down the sloping drive I just caught the rear door panel on a concrete post.  So off to the menders - again!!

And this evening my beloved Saints take on Swansea at their home ground in a decider for which of the two teams gets relegated from the Premier League.   Squeaky bum time indeed but I just know that, after being a Saints fan for well over 70 years, it will probably end in tears as the footballing Gods, incompetent refereeing and hotel cancellations all seem to conspire against us.   

So, all in all, just one of those days but I still count my blessings knowing deep down that my plight is so much more agreeable than that of many others.   Que sera, sera.

HIS AND HERS...

One of the best walks along the Cornish coastpath is from West Pentire, just south of Crantock, down to Polly Joke and up to Kelsey Head.  From there you can look across to the seal colony on the island known as The Chick and also look out to Carter`s Rocks, off Holywell Bay.   And along the way you pass a series of small coves, like this one:-

(Please click on photo for better image.)

You quite expect to see Ross Poldark and his chums doing a bit of smuggling or even, having cast his scythe to one side, Ross raising the female temperature by stripping off and having a dip in the sea.  One evening we spent time in a local hostelry - one of the inescapable Rick Stein`s - in St. Merryn and, feeling the call of nature, I visited the `conveniences,` where it was encouraging to see that the door to the ladies was marked `Demelzas` and the gentlemen`s was marked `Rosses.`  No, I wasn`t sure it worked either.