Well it sure was a Bank Holiday weekend to remember.  The cricket was fantastic, as was the Rugby and the Saints won a game away from home, prompting yet another open top bus ride around Southampton.

The weather was more than a bit on the scorchio side and I felt for those thousands who had decided to spend a glorious weekend at a city centre carnival or some ear splitting music festival or, even worse, fighting through motorway madness just to get where thousands of people were there already.

So how to avoid all that and find some peace and quiet away from it all?  Well, we decided to take Dudley our retriever for a nice walkies through some of Kent`s finest countryside.   So we parked the car in a nearby village and started our walk through open fields which had been harvested a week or so before.   We looked back to the village and this was the tranquil scene with the village church resplendent in the early morning haze.......

We then climbed up the hill towards the foot of the North Downs and saw this old but prosperous farmhouse proudly standing on its hill and surveying its domain........ 

After climbing a little further we joined the Pilgrims Way - the long distance footpath that leads from Winchester to Canterbury, a large section of which passes through this part of Kent.  I took this photo to demonstrate the peace and quiet, not to say solitude, that rush hour on the Pilgrims Way can bring - so different from the M20 Motorway just a couple of miles away........

And as we left the Pilgrims Way and headed back across the fields we came across what I have called Sunflower Cottage, buried deep in the quiet lane back to the village.........

I won`t bore you with any more photos but please click on them for better images.  But I hope you agree that even if there are countless things to do on a Bank Holiday the glories of the English countryside in all its high summer splendour really do take some beating.

So much football - so little time.   Where to begin?   Well, it`s a curious thing Saturday - as a Saints fan I am invariably glad when it`s all over so that I can put the anxieties away for another few days  but now and again a Saturday comes along that lifts the inbred gloom.  It doesn`t happen very often but yesterday was one of those days when the gloom is lifted by a win in the Premier League and I make the most of it by watching Match of the Day, recording the Sky highlights, buying the Sunday paper and scouring the internet for anything and everything that will confirm a precious victory as being real rather than an illusion dreamt up in the middle of the night.

And it all gets me wondering why I have this penchant for supporting struggling footnall teams.  Maybe I was born to it when my father took me along to The Dell to watch my first Southampton game in 1946: I was seven at the time and I still remember the game - Saints 4- Derby County 2.  So, from an early age, not for me the glory, the pomp and circumstance of supporting a `big club` but rather taking it for granted that my local club has accepted me as one of its fans.

And I suppose that might be why I also follow other struggling - or at least `interesting` - clubs if only to comfort myself with the notion that there are worse clubs than the Saints.  Clubs like Truro City. Fort William, Forest Green Rovers, Maidstone United, Gillingham and more recently Wimbledon.   There are other reasons, such as:-

Truro City :  based in deepest Cornwall, now relegated to the Southern League South Division but still having to make heroic journeys to away matches.  Yesterday, for example, they not only made the long joutney to Chesham in Hertfordshire but also had to fight their way through the Cornwall-bound holiday traffic.   It`s a wonder they made the  mile 560 mile round trip at all , only to come away with a narrow defeat which saw them drop from top of the league to third.   Still, it`s a long way to go - literally.

Fort William of the Scottish Highland League have a growing audience thanks to Facebook and other `social` media outlets.  They too make long journeys throughout the northern reaches of Scotland and invariably get defeated - last season they finished bottom of the league again with a goal difference of minus 226!  But this year looks a little more encouraging - only losing 6-3 away to Fraserburgh yesterday.

Forest Green Rovers have grown from a small village club deep in the Cotswolds of Gloucestershire to become a force in League Two, where they now rest in third place.  There rise has been admirable, thanks to their idiosyncratic owner who is into things green big time.  

Maidstone United are my local club - one I have followed for over half a century with mixed fortunes and it is where I took my sons to introduce them to the world of  football banter as we followed them from the old Gola League all the way up to the old Division Four of the Football League and back down again.

I watch Gillingham`s progress for two reason really.  One is that my neighbour is a passionate fan who has a season ticket at Priestfield and the other reason is that some years ago he and I went to see the Gills play the Saints in the days when Southampton were languishing in League One minus 10 points.  It was a miserable experience - the Saints lost and I got soaked through sitting in the open topped away stand.  

As for Wimbledon, they only feature because they currently have our street`s local hero Scott ("Buzzin` Six-Pack ") Wagstaff not only plying his trade as a pacy flanker in their ranks but he was actually captain of the team earlier in the week when they lost 2-1 at Ipswich, before losing 3-1 yesterday away at Sunderland.  Both difficulr places to go to though.

So it`s not all about glory, winning trophies, having bragging rights and all that.  It`s about waiting patiently in the uncertain hope that now and again a result will come along that makes a Saturday enjoyable and makes the week ahead that little bit easier to bear.  Which reminds me - Saints have Manchester United at home next week.  Nurse!!!!

NEW TRAGEDY, OLD MEMORIES...

Like everyone else, I was so very sorry - and not a little angry - at the senseless murder of PC Andrew Harper just the other day and it goes without saying that mine and everyone else`s sympathies go out towards his young widow, his wider family and his friends.

Can I also mention then horrific rail crash that happened in 2004 when seven people, including the train driver, were killed.

Now we often hear people say, when tragedy strikes, that "it`s not the sort of thing that happens around here."  But surely things like the two I have mentioned above really  should not happen in a peaceful, out-of-the-way hamlet deep in the Berkshire countryside.   But sadly both occurred at Ufton Nervet - the rail crash at the level crossing over Ufton Lane and PC Harper`s murder at the junction of Ufton Lane with the A4 Bath Road.

Many, many years ago my grandparents on my father`s side of the family had a bakery business where bread was prepared and baked on an old wood oven - the stacks of wood (bavins) would be put int the oven, set alight and then the ashes would be removed for the bread to be put in to bake.   The bakery was at Padworth Common just a couple of miles from Ufton and the bread and other provisions from the adjoining family shop were delivered by a van around the local villages not only Ufton but also Padworth itself, Silchester, Burghfield and Mortimer.

During school holidays I used to be dispatched to stay with my grandparents and I used to go on the delivery rounds and help out.  My uncle Les would do the deliveries around Silchester and Ufton and my aunt would do the others.   So I know those villages so well and the recent news surrounding Ufton brought back memories of being on the bread van, driving up Ufton Lane, over the level crossing, over the Kennet bridge and stopping at the scene you see above.  The nice house on the left in the picture above was in those days a pub - the Dog and Partridge - where my uncle used to rest awhile whilst transactions took place involving  bread and  liquid refreshment.

A little further up the road there was Fred Monger`s cottage - he was an old gamekeeper and used to work for the nearby Elizabethan Ufton Court and by the time we had delivered the bread there, we knew that the delivery round was just about finished for another day.

And all those  years ago the village of Ufton was always quiet, peaceful, steeped in the ways of rural life - the sort of place where nothing untoward ever happened.  Or at least it used to be.

.......and just as well  too.   About ten days ago I dreamt that my beloved Saints would go to Burnley and get the new Premiership season off to a cracking start with a 3-1 win.  That didn`t happen of course as we lost 3-0.  But still the dreams lived on and I wondered whether today`s  encounter with Champions League winners Liverpool might provide an upset and see Saints win their first home game of the season by a late goal.   That didn`t happen of course as we lost 2-1 to end up 18th in the table.

Now I know it`s early days - 36 games to go and all that - but already the signs are there that we are in for yet another of our perennial struggles.  It seems we played pretty well but once again were let down by mistakes at the back by defenders - who cannot be named for legal reasons - and by an attacking force which more and more resembles a powder puff.   A friend who was at the game suggested that the difference between the two sides was that Liverpool had Sadio Mane and we had Danny Ings - despite the fact that each of them scored against their former clubs.   And of course Liverpool had the luxury of fielding Van Dyke, Oxtail-Chamberlain and Mane, along with Lallana on the bench - all purloined from Southampton.

But our whizz bang manager, Ralph ("Klopp of the Alps") Hasenhuttl is encouraged by the performance, if not the result.  He thought we might have got something from the game but, as ever, show me a good loser and I`ll show you a loser.  Never mind - there`a all to play for.  Next up = Brighton away, now managed by former Saints player Gtaham Potter, in what might already be a must win six pointer.  

So are we depressed, disappointed, anxious, worried, on the verge of nervous breakdowns?  Well, maybe not quite yet, for we take comfort in Hot Chocolate and still believe in miracles.

In my other footy news - Forest Green Rovers are riding high in League Two, Maidstone are comfortably in mid-rable, the Gills had their match called off thanks to Bury`s financial problems, Fort William lost (of course) but this time by the only goal in a 1-0 home defeat to fellow strugglers Keith and Truro City romped home to a 1-0 win over Swindon Supermarine to go top of the Southern League Division South.

So there are miracles to be found if you know where to look and I for one am convinced that one will come the way of the Saints and we finish 17th at the end of the season.  You heard it here first.

SEEN BUT NOT HEARD ?

There`s something odd going on - and has been for a while now.  Some time ago I had a bit of a dig at Meghan and all her works and I said at the time that there was something not quite right about all that.   And I feel too that there is something not quite right about one Greta Thunberg - the self-appointed 16-year old Swedish `activist.`

Over recent months she has gained a load of publicity for her campaign about climate change - an audience with Westminster politicians, suggestions of a Nobel Prize and general adulation for her alleged spirit and determination to get her message across to what she perceives as a world that isn`t listening to what she has to say.

And now she is apparently embarking on a two week crossing of the Atlantic in a solar powered boat which exists purely without any form of power whatsoever, relying on the elements to make the crossing whilst those on board have to make do without a kitchen and even what is known in nautical terms as `a head` - just a bucket perched in a discreet corner of the deck.  At the end of the journey she is due to address a climate change conference at the UN no less, where  no doubt she will encourage yet more `action` to build on the school strikes which swept the country here a few weeks ago.  

A couple of things strike me as `not quite right` here.  For example, I`m intrigued how she managed to get from Sweden to Plymouth - where her Atlantic voyage began - without at least producing perhaps a smidgen of carbon and how she might get home from America again without using just a morsel of the planet`s resources.  ( I see that in order to get to the solar powered yacht anchored off Plymouth, she had to go via petrol driven dinghy.  Not the most convincing start I guess.)  I didn`t think she looked too happy - very morose, looking a  bit grumpy - hardly inspiring but who can blame her with what lies ahead?

Then there is my old skool bewilderment that someone of her tender years is taken as seriously as she is, to the point whereby she seems to have developed almost  a religious following  with world leaders, opinion formers and such like bending over backwards to be associated with her  mission in life, presumably for fear of being criticised if they do not.   There was a time when 16-year olds tended to content themselves with learning about life, gaining experiences and leaving the troubles of the world for the older generation to sort out.  Not any more it seems.

But in my undying quest to find balance and reason in all things,I`m reminded of a couple of quotes which might provide a little balance to my scepticism - Oscar Hammerstein`s line from `The King and I` -"If you become a teacher, by your pupils you`ll be taught"`  Or even.......

It`s all a bit weird - can`t quite get my head around it all - but something not quite right somewhere?

So, here we go again.   After a few precious weeks not having to worry about football results, the bandwagon is back on the road and will be with us for the next nine months or so.  As if I haven`t got enough to worry about already, what with Brexit, climate change (aka global warming,) deforestation and plastic I now have to concern myself week in, week out with how my varied football interests are progressing.

And guess what - it seems to be the same old story of keen anticipation leading only to crushed expectations, bewilderment, disappointment and confusion.  Starting with Southampton, after an encouraging pre-season, a whizzo manager now settled in and some new signings we Saints fans were all set for a dramatic start to the Premier League season away at Burnley.  I suppose it was predictable that Saints would lose 3-0 thanks to inept defending and equally inept attacking.  Same old story - even if Turf Moor is a difficult place to go to.

Elsewhere, my Gillingham supporting neighbour - the well known error of judgement - went to Priestfield yesterday only to see a home defeat to Burton Albion.  Same old story even after a motorway dash to ensure he arrived home in time for the game.

But some consolation was found in the victories for Truro City, recently relegated to the Southern  League South Division, who made the 500-mile round trip to West Byfleet in Surrey where they got their campaign off to a winning start by defeating Metropolitan Police 2-0. ( One does wonder whether it is ever good tactics to beat the Met. Police.)  And then there was Maidstone United, recently relegated to the National League South, who made the trip to Hungerford in Berkshire and came away with an encouraging 3-1 win.

But perhaps the most encouraging result was Fort William only losing 2-0 away at Strathspey Thistle.  The Fort might already be bottom of the Highland League but it has to be good news for them that they have so far avoided the double figure defeats they suffered last season.   For them, for the Saints, the Gills and all the others contributing to my burgeoning mental health issues, the only way is up.

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE.....

.......that is the question.   A couple of days ago I attended the Day Eye Clinic at Maidstone Hospital for the removal of a cataract from my left eye and to have a prosthetic implant to take its place.   It all went very well and once again I have bem very impressed with our wonderful National Health service.   The caring attitude of staff and  the skill of the eye surgeon and support staff was exemplary and I am sincerely grateful for and pleased with the results.   

The difference in my eyesight - at least in that one eye (the other one will be done next month) - has been a revelation.  Things that I could barely see before are now sharp, bright and in focus.  I have to be careful what I do for probably the next few weeks while I adjust to a new way of seeing with one eye that`s working well and the other one not so good.  

 I`ve already discovered that it`s not a good idea to drive a large(ish) car into a small(ish) garage  and not expect to pick up the odd dent in the bodywork.  But, hey ho, a small problem set against the enormous benefit of being able to see properly once more.

There`s quite a business to go through - a check up to see that the operation was completely successful, I`ll need some new glasses of course and the prospect of going through the whole thing again with the other eye is something I just want to get done .  In the meantime until my eyes are fully adjusted and I have my new spectacles (which could be some weeks away) I might just struggle a bit with small print, so if my posts on here are not as regular as usual, that`s the reason for it.  But I`ll keep trying and hope each day brings the improvement I am looking forward to.

I suppose if you can read this and it makes a bit of sense then perhaps my latest venture into posting on here might have worked.    

A LOCAL VISIT...

As a break from all the trouble and strife of the world, had another visit to the local village of Birling, nestling beneath the North Downs here in deepest Kent.   

Now Birling is one of those archetypal English country villages where you can spend a fortnight in an afternoon.  It has a long history with the Church and Manor being recorded in the Domesday Book and like many of the villages around here, Birling has its own village sign - pictured above.

It has a couple of claims to fame - one genuine, the other less so.  The genuine one is that the churchyard includes the grave of one of the country`s best admired and most prolific artists in Rowland Hilder.  He spent some of his early years with his grandparents in Birling and, as he himself recalled, "It seemed miles from anywhere.  Even the people living in the next village to us, Ryarsh, were considered as foreigners."  See more about him here - http://www.artnet.com/artists/rowland-hilder/

Local myth has grown over the years concerning the speech given by President John F Kennedy in 1963 in which, despite local claims, he did not say, "Ich bin ein Birlinger."

Anyway, here are a few photos I took, along with the one at the top, on my recent visit - please click on the photos for better images........

The Lychgate

Birling Park Farm

Away from it all

Harvest time

MORE TO HIM....

Over the years in these pages I have recorded memories of cricketing heroes who have left us - Derek Shackleton, Bob Woolmer, Harold Gimblett, David Sheppard, Trevor Bailey, Arthur Morris, Bernard Hedges, Brian Langford, Alec Bedser....the list is quite a long one and if you are so minded you can find them by clicking on the list of labels (down a bit and to the right) for `cricket` or `obituaries.`

And so, whilst all the clamour and razzmatazz of the recent World Cup and the current Ashes series ring loudly in our hearts, minds and ears I was saddened to learn of the passing of Malcolm Nash.  

Now Malcolm will always be remembered, of course, for the time when Sir Garfield Sobers took six sixes off him in one over for Nottinghamshire against Nash`s Glamorgan at Swansea in 1968 - the first time that feat was achieved in first class cricket.   But there was much more to Malcolm Nash who played for Glamorgan with great distinction between 1966 and 1983, taking 993 first class wickets and was Glamorgan`s leading wicket taker when they won the county championship in 1969.  As well as excelling as a left arm bowler, he was also a useful batsman, scoring over 7,000 runs.

It seems almost tragically ironic that Malcolm dies suddenly whilst attending a cricket function at Lord`s Cricket Ground on Tuesday but he will be mourned as a true legend of Glamorgan and a true gentleman of the game.   Tributes have quite rightly been pouring in, but perhaps the most touching has come from Sir Garfield himself.   He said, "He was a good friend of mine and we always kept that friendship."

Sobers recalled how Nash kept his sense of humour, despite him being hit for those six sixes. "We were asked to go up and be interviewed afterwards and I saw Malcolm smiling.  I asked him what he was smiling about and he told me, "Gary, I want you to know that you could not have achieved that without me."

It kind of sums up Malcolm Nash the man and the cricket world is much the poorer for his leaving.

THE DEATH OF ROMANCE ?

I hope I`m wrong and that reports of the death of yet another romance are premature.  You see, as a bit of a romantic myself, apart from my undying devotion to Southampton FC, I have long followed the fortunes of less  fashionable or successful football clubs.  These include Truro City, Forest Green Rovers and most notably Fort William of the Scottish Highland League.

It has indeed been a romantic journey following the misfortunes of The Fort, who have graced the Highland League for 20 years, 14 of which they have finished bottom of the league.  The last four seasons have been especially `interesting` as they have ended in that position each time having failed to win a game in all of those matches, last season finishing with a goal difference of minus 221. 

Purists might say that things cannot go on like that - romantics like me hope they might as The Fort represent all that is good in sport - the taking part, the determination, the dedication to the cause and the wishful thought that one bright day things might just be a little, well, brighter. 

But now the illusion has been broken, the romance of rejoicing in unending struggle has been dented, as yesterday they won a football match.  Yes, they actually won one.  They triumphed 5-2 against Nairn County in a North of Scotland Cup game, thus ending a 73-game winless run stretching back 840 days.  Before this win, their last victory came four campaigns ago when they defeated Strathspey Thistle 4-1.

Maybe The Fort are really on the up and for their sake I hope it`s true.   And us romantics will still avidly follow their results in the coming league season and continue to support them via their excellent Facebook page and other platforms even if a little of the romance may have died. I might have to follow Nairn County as well this coming season ?