A DIFFERENT CLAIM TO FAME...

The photo above shows the main bit of the Hampshire town of Andover.   It`s the place you drive past on the ring road as you whiz down the A303 between Basingstoke and Stonehenge.  A good friend of mine, sadly no longer with us, came from Andover and to be fair didn`t rate his home town too highly.   Nonetheless it has a few things going for it.

For example, it was the birthplace of Nigel Spackman, a more than useful footballer who played for Chelsea, Liverpool and Rangers in Scotland;   Lucinda Green and Kate Howey, both Olympic medal winners;  Lord Denning, former Master of the Rolls, James Blunt who cannot be named for legal reasons;  and Reg Presley and The Troggs.

On a less happy note, Andover was named "among the worst places in England to live" in a recent survey in which over 125,000 people voted.  Among the scathing reviews was one suggesting the town "is the most depressing place in the northern hemisphere."  Another advised visitors to avoid Andover "at all costs" whilst comparing the attractions and facilities in the town with Chernobyl.

But a recent report has highlighted another aspect of life in Andover and provided it with the dubious claim to fame as officially being `the raunchiest place in Britain` with sales of - how shall I put it? - personal intimate gratification accessories, far in excess of those sold anywhere else in the country during the course of the pandemic.

An intriguing prospect, given the history of the town, its relatively quiet location despite the A303 and its reputation for being able to offer a fortnight`s holiday in an afternoon.   But, as the much missed and loved Reg Presley wrote, " I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes. love is all around me and so the feeling grows......."   

 

SPARE A THOUGHT...

The football season has kicked off already - league fixtures have begun in Scotland`s Highland League and last Saturday saw two of the teams I follow in action.   Brechin City, having just been relegated to the Highland League, began their campaign with an encouraging 3-0 win away at Turriff United whilst Fort William began their season by losing 3-0 away at Rothes.

Ah, Fort William - The Fort - perennial strugglers in the league and with mounting problems behind the scenes.   Their latest setback means they will have to play all of their league and cup games away from home this season.   The condition of Claggan Park, their home ground, has been a problem for some time and although work was put in hand to improve the drainage, it seems even more work was needed.   The situation was not helped by the council owned ground also being used for trial bikes, some extreme vandalism occurred wrecking the sprinkler system along with damage to their tractor.  This meant that the remedial work would not be finalised in time and so the club were unable to guarantee fulfilling their early season home games.

The Highland League and other clubs in the league have been as accommodating as possible in giving The Fort the option of either taking a year out to put things right or playing their fixtures away from home.  The club chose the second option and have been encouraged by the generosity from each of the other clubs in the league offering to pass on to Fort William the travel costs they would have incurred by visiting Claggan Park - a real example of clubs rallying round.  They have also launched a crowd funding page on their Facebook page, encouraging supporters and other followers to donate.

Some of the journeys up and down the Scottish Highlands are of course lengthy and at times difficult - the trip to play Wick Academy, for example, involves about a 400-mile round trip from Fort William - a journey they will now have to make at least twice.

At the other end of the football pyramid, it`s rumoured that Harry Kane will be offered £400,000 a week to turn out for Manchester City, which simply reinforces the madness of all that.   It might be more rewarding to follow the travails of The Fort this season.

CMON THE FORT!!

 THOUGHT FOR THE DAY

 

A RUMBLE OF THUNDER ?

I`ve been watching the first few games in the brand spanking new cricket competition `The Hundred.`  It seems to be the T20 - which comprises 120 balls - but reduced to just 100 balls, so it`s difficult to detect any real difference apart from the introduction of some odd rules such as having `strategic time-outs,` a time limit for each innings and having five or ten ball `sets` instead of the more traditional six ball overs.  (This has the annoying innovation of the umpires holding up a white card at the end of each `set` rather than calling `Over` at the end of an over.)

It`s all a bit bish-bash-bosh, to steal a slogan from one of its sponsors;  there`s live music in between `innings,` there`s fireworks, a `match hero` instead of a player of the match but also the crowd bringing their repertoire of chants, songs and insults direct from their T20 experiences.  The idea is apparently to attract a younger audience to the game by introducing almost American style razzmatazz, deafening noise and ancillary `attractions` all the while the serious business of playing the game is going on.

Traditionalists - like me, I suppose - will baulk at the gimmicks but I wonder whether the England and Wales Cricket Board have made a fatal error in underestimating the power of history.  Most cricket clubs in this country have more than a century of history behind them which seems to engender a feeling of loyalty and devotion to the game which goes far beyond mere results on the pitch.

But for all that, given the extensive BBC and Sky Sports coverage and the attendances at the games so far, it is perhaps refreshing to see that audiences seem to be very much into the atmosphere and enjoyment of the occasion and what is perhaps telling is the sheer fun and enjoyment displayed by the younger members of the audience - some of them very young indeed - which was apparently one of the reasons for coming up with this version of the game;  to spread its appeal, get more young people involved and in the process generate more revenue to feed back into the more `traditional` game.  (I was interested to see that the one county which `did not vote` for the introduction of The Hundred was Kent - I wonder if they will miss out on the £1.3million promised by the ECB to each county.)

In the end, despite my reservations, I`m finding it compelling viewing - even Mrs. Snopper is mildly interested - and in a way I hope it succeeds in the longer term rather than simply being an expensive stop gap before football starts up again.  If it does succeed, I worry what its effect will be on the county game, the established T20 format and the 50-over competition.  The simple game of cricket could get too complicated and in its effort to be all things to all cricket followers it could leave its history and tradition floundering in the wake of its own desperation.  I really hope not.

Here in Kent today we have a Met. Office weather warning for heavy showers, torrential downpours, lightning and thunder and I thought I detected some thunder rumbling away down the other end of the county as I watched The Hundred unfold last evening.  On the other hand, it could have been EW (`Jim`) Swanton turning in his grave down at Sandwich.

 

A DEBT OF GRATITUDE...

I don`t take The Times - it`s a bit heavy for me and a bit big and I`m not sure I would have the stamina to plough through it all.   I`m sure that is to my detriment but I did pick up on the sad news that The Times` cricket correspondent, John Woodcock, has passed away at the age of 94.

He was know as `The Sage of Longparish` after the Hampshire village he called home.  He was said to have seen more Test matches than anyone - over 400 of them - except for Richie Benaud and his 33 years as The Times correspondent earned him the right to a lasting place in the annals of cricket journalism.   Between 1981 and 1987 he edited Wisden`s Cricketers` Almanack, copies of which adorn my eclectic bookshelves and I think it was that connection that made me pause and reflect on the strength and depth of cricket writing over the years.

So in acknowledging the debt of gratitude to John Woodcock it gives me the opportunity to give my thanks also to the many cricket writers who have provided so much enjoyment over the years and makes me wonder why it is that cricket seems to be the one area in the sporting world that provides literature of arguably the highest quality of any other.  It surely must be down to the game itself which whilst taking anything up to five days to play - and then not always leading to a result - provides ample opportunity for reflection which can then be translated into intelligent, thoughtful and considered commentary.

I`ve got a few of them on my bookshelves.  Biographies of  Harold Larwood, Harold Gimblett, Tom Graveney;  autobiographies by Ben Stokes, Robin Smith:  histories of county teams such as Somerset, Glamorgan, Hampshire; and what you might describe as collective essays about the spirit and charm of the game and its way of life by authors such a David Foot, Duncan Hamilton and David Frith.   

They are books to keep, not to throw away, to read them again if only as a reminder of and another escape into the other worldly sanctuary of the beautiful game.   And the curious thing is that however many times I get one down from its shelf, there is always something new to discover, some new perspective and yet another reason to be thankful.

 

A TOE IN  THE WATER...

OK, I`ll test the water here on what is undoubtedly a tricky and sensitive subject.  It concerns illegal immigration and whilst I may be reluctant to write too much about it I am acutely aware that it is a subject that is especially relevant to us residents and taxpayers here in Kent.  Yesterday, for example, saw a record number of people illegally crossing the English Channel from the French coast - some 430 arrived on Kent`s beaches having made the perilous journey in inflatable dinghies.   That was the highest ever recorded daily number.

So far this month alone there have been over 3,000 entering the country illegally  on the Kent coast and at least 8,000 so far this year - more than the whole of last year.  I saw a recent report that suggested that there are at least 800,000 living in the UK whose status is, shall we say, uncertain.   The influx into Kent has already seen the county council declaring that it is no longer able to deal with the number of unaccompanied children who have made the crossing and the calls on the county`s other resources are understandably `strained.`

It`s a difficult thing to write about without appearing unsympathetic towards those who may have a legitimate reason for making the crossing and I do understand the imperatives that drive people seeking a better life into the hands of people smugglers; but I`m not sure that continuing to accept the number of people making the journey is sustainable.  It`s interesting to note that the majority of those arriving on our shore come from Iran and Iraq, seem mainly to be young men and one wonders about the impact on the spread of the coronavirus by such illegal entry, not to mention the conspiracy theory concerning invasion by stealth.

The Government`s approach seems either to do nothing or take the scorched earth option which is what the new legislation currently going through Parliament seems to indicate.   It`s all a bit extreme which is what is not needed in bringing some semblance of order to the current chaos.   

Perhaps public perception is not helped by the fact that the BBC in particular seem keen to press the case to allow the status quo to continue by invariably interviewing charities in support of the migrant influx or, as witnessed on BBC Breakfast this morning, showing a lengthy and sympathetic piece about how desperate the migrants are, how terrible the conditions they have to face when they arrive and other countries take more migrants than we do and anyway the numbers are actually not so bad as they used to be.   Really?

I don`t subscribe to the scorched earth policies that some would have, rather as a resident and taxpayer of the Garden of England I would prefer a system that is fair, practical, affordable and sustainable.   Just need a Government that will come up with a solution like that.   In the meantime, I`ll just carry on paying for it all but with a growing feeling of mounting disenchantment.  

Time to take my toe out of the water rather than jump in with both feet........

 

As I continue to be dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century, my seemingly eternal encounter with `new technology` gathers pace.   Having just about come to terms with things like PCs, blogging, a car with about 18 computers in it and mobile phones, I now have the new challenge of understanding SkyQ.

(I should add that my mastery of mobile phones is limited by not having a smart one - mine is just a phone really with nice big numbers and seems to enjoy being switched off.)

Anyway, SkyQ arrived the other day accompanied by a helpful young man who installed it and gave me some staccato `instructions` about how to use it.   I thought it best to get on to the internet, find `Understanding SkyQ for Dummies,` printing it off and  taking my time to get my head around it.   Which, to be fair, I have just about managed to do.  Possibly.

Just two problems I encountered, however.  The first was to discover that you can`t get the BBC red button teletext service on SkyQ.  I don`t know why, but you just can`t, which makes it a bit inconvenient as I have to go upstairs, turn on our old steam driven analogue TV to get up to date with things like cricket scores and the football gossip column.   Not the end of the world - I`ll live with it, although I`m sure that if I had a smart phone I could get things like that on there.  I mustn't be tempted though.

The second issue is that on our old Sky+HD box, I had quite a lot of stuff that I had recorded, especially some really favourite films.  Proper films with stories, once upon a time and happy endings, ones from times gone by which had appeared on the excellent Talking Pictures TV channel.   Three particular favourites were `A Canterbury Tale,` which I have managed to track down on You Tube where the whole film is available;  `Dulcima` - a particular favourite for its story by HE Bates, its captivating locations in the Cotswolds and an especially becoming performance by the late and much missed Carol White;  and `When the Whales Came,` another with a proper story, this time by Michael Morpurgo, about life on the Isles of Scilly around the time of WW1 and a vivid reminder of our visit there many years ago.

I`ve managed to buy the DVD of `Dulcima` which will be handy if I can get the DVD player to work in conjunction with SkyQ but the DVD for `When the Whales Came` is `not available` even on Mr. Bezos`s site.   Guess I`ll just have to hope that it turns up again one day on TPTV.

So, onwards and upwards on my journey into a burgeoning hi-tech, state-of-the-art, ocean-going future?  I just wonder what might be next.

 Next Monday is my birthday - I`ll be 82!!   And next Monday is also the day when Boris has decreed that personal responsibility will kick-in and the legal requirement about wearing masks and social distancing will be replaced by `personal choice.`   So two events to celebrate?

Not really, as I find it incredulous that our Government is prepared to release these restrictions just at the time when the coronavirus is worryingly on the rise once more.   Just today, the same HM Gov. has issued figures that show more than 48,800 new infections in the last 24 hours and, sadly, 63 more deaths.

On the rebound of all the nonsense perpetrated by various sections of our so-called `society` following the European Championship football disappointment I can well see that those same sections will actually believe that next Monday is `Freedom Day` and behave in their usual selfish, unthinking way which puts their lives and those of others in some peril.  It`s just mad.

So, having got used to mask wearing and distancing socially over the past year and a half, I`ve understood the value of being sensible, not taking unnecessary risks and, especially at my age, treating staying alive as my number one priority.

So, Boris & Co, forgive me if I don`t join in with your much vaunted `Freedom Day` as I much prefer to continue to defy the odds of catching coronavirus, being hospitalised and bidding this cruel world goodbye by doing those things that have kept me going this past 18 months.  I`m an ambitious sort of chap - my next aim is to be 83.....and more.

 

ON REFLECTION..

OK, I`ve used this image before of a fellow Southampton fan trying to come to terms with yet another defeat.   But in some ways, it sums up my reaction to the events surrounding the European Championship over the past month.

I mentioned in my last post that I would give time a chance to settle the dust of the last few days but I have a feeling that it will take more time than I bargained for before any semblance of normality returns.  So let`s begin with the outcome - England perhaps predictably losing the final on penalties.  I`ve got over that - it happens and I guess I`m used to it by now after all the similar outcomes over the years.   But football is a game, the definition of which - according to my standby dictionary - is `an amusement or pastime; a single period of play in a contest.`  And that`s it - it`s not World War 3, it`s not about famine or pestilence, it`s not about deprivation or even pandemics.  It`s a game.

Trouble is, games like football at the professional level have long ceased to be an amusement or a pastime but have morphed into a world-wide industry and have reached an importance and status far beyond their value.  And so against that background, I am able to accept that England lost to Italy on penalties - surely the most ludicrous method of determining an outcome - and lost to the better, more experienced team on the day.   It was disappointing, of course, but as they say, "That`s football."

So that`s the game dealt with but what are infinitely more disturbing are all the things that have gone on around it.  Which is where disappointment turns to embarrassment.  And I think embarrassment is what accurately describes my reaction - not to the football itself but to the antics that have shown themselves in various ways, most of which are offensive and unbecoming of a nation that used to pride itself on `playing the game` and knowing how to lose with dignity and good grace.

England`s football team under their excellent manager did themselves and the nation proud.  They came through the games before the final with skill, determination and a togetherness and in the final itself acquitted themselves admirably before the fateful penalty shoot-out.  As a nation we should be celebrating all that but instead there are probably criminal acts of abuse being perpetrated on the anonymity of `social media` by an unthinking minority which brings discredit to them and the rest of us.  I hope collars are felt.

And drink fuelled fights and squabbles in towns and cities, reports of Danish fans being abused by England followers as they left Wembley after the semi-final, a mural of Marcus Rashford being defaced and a misplaced sense of being let down by a team who have achieved more than any other in the past half century, not only on the field of play but also by their dignified and measured attitude away from it.  For them to have to live with the nonsense being directed towards them after all they have achieved is not only genuinely disturbing.   It`s embarrassing, so much so that I`m heartily relieved that it`s all over and I can look forward to about a month`s respite before it all kicks off yet again.

 

A day of contrasts yesterday and the calm before the storm of the Euro Football Final came in the form of a visit to the sanctuary of Kent`s cricket headquarters at Canterbury.  There had been reports that the whole of the county`s first team had been isolated following a positive Covid test among one of its players.  So, with not much time before the County Championship game against Sussex was due to start, Kent had to field a team made up of second eleven players, augmented by others from leading clubs within the county.  No less than five new county caps were awarded before the start of play.

As a result of all that, the game didn`t get under weigh until 12.00noon and Kent having won the toss and elected to field, we sat there beyond the boundary at deep backward square leg, and expected the worst.   But Kent`s scratch team did really well and dismissed their neighbouring county side for 181 which included debut bowling figures for 18-year old Jas Singh of four Sussex wickets for 51.

Kent`s reply began well enough but understandably subsided a bit against a strong Sussex attack and ended the day on 69-5.   Another thoroughly enjoyable day at the cricket though - lovely weather, entertaining  play and a good crowd.  I was struck by the contrast between the four day game and the razzamatazz of the T20.   Yesterday there was no deafening music when a boundary was struck or a wicket taken - just polite, gentle applause which all added to the sense of calm and reassurance that it is possible to go to a sporting event and genuinely enjoy the occasion for what it is.

Yesterday was the start of Canterbury Cricket Week - the oldest `festival` of its kind in the country if not the world.  It has been going since 1842 and has been played at the St. Lawrence Ground since 1847.  Normally such weeks become alive with an array of marquees for the various clubs and societies that support Kent cricket and associated activities and entertainments take place around the ground, none more compelling than the famed `ladies hat competition` during the tea interval when the dowagers of the county compete for who might have the most fetching fascinator.  Sadly, this year the pandemic has meant that none of that has been possible.

I suspect that Canterbury divides opinion between those who might still be coming to terms with the death of King Edward V11 and others who might see it as a theme park for vaguely distracted gentlefolk.   Others still, perhaps myself  included, may be seduced by the surroundings and the understated grandeur of the setting, not least the decorous pavilion and the assortment of stands named after Kent heroes of days gone by - Woolley, Ames, Cowdrey, Underwood and Knott. 

As for me, I looked upon yesterday as an escape from all the hullabaloo, the non-stop noise and hype in anticipation of the Euro Final later that day and perhaps also an escape from the madness surrounding the pandemic and, more especially, the political insanity that surrounds it. 

When I began writing this piece I had intended to provide some contrast between my day at the cricket and the evening`s collective emotional extremes but in the end the almost mysticism of Canterbury took over, so at the risk of disappointing you or maybe even providing a sigh of relief I will leave it at that.  If I can face it I may return to the more frantic world of football once the dust has settled a bit. Oh, and by the way, today`s play at Canterbury is `delayed` by heavy and persistent overnight rain.   Dame Fortune may be smiling on Kent after all?

ON THIS PIVOTAL DAY....

A message from Her Majesty with which all Saints fans will agree..... 

 

A DISHONOURABLE DISCHARGE..

The above logo is one of many adopted by Southern Water, who are charged with the responsibility of ensuring that all waste water throughout their wide area of operation is dealt with efficiently, effectively and economically in the interests of its millions of `customers` and the natural environment.  But they are a private company of many years standing and as such are also accountable to their shareholders.   

Now I`m sure you have seen the reports that Southern Water have been fined £90million for dumping millions of litres (whatever happened to gallons?) of raw sewage in coastal waters.  The company admitted 6,971 illegal discharges from sites spread throughout Kent, Sussex and Hampshire between 2010 and 2015.   In handing down his verdict, the Judge remarked that each of the 51 offences showed a total disregard for the environment, for the precious ecosystems along the coastlines and for the fisheries and other legitimate businesses that depend on the vitality of coastal waters.

The company`s Chief Executive said he was `deeply sorry` and that what happened was `completely unacceptable.   I` sure there will be recriminations within the company and no doubt deputy heads will roll.  There is no crumb of comfort here except perhaps the confirmation that none of the fine will be passed on to Southern Water`s customers but will be met from company profits, which amounted to £213million in the last year and yet they won`t even pay for a stamped addressed envelope for me to send my cheque off to them.

This whole saga raises the question again as to whether it is right for the precious commodity of water to be entrusted into the hands of profit making private companies, especially those like Southern Water who have form - it had 168 previous offences and cautions and this latest debacle was admitted to have been taken deliberately in the interest of profit.  No way to run a railway.

We`ll see what, if anything, happens further but it has raised the obvious question about who actually pays the fines imposed on large organisations.  In particular, there have been cases of fines imposed on NHS Trusts - another recent example here in Kent - but surely the last thing we want is for the public money that pays for the NHS and the services it provides to be reduced by the imposition of fines.   The whole business could do with some much needed attention.

 

I confess that I really don`t follow every twist and turn of parliamentary debate but I was intrigued to catch a snippet from the proceedings of the Liaison Committee the other day.   That`s the one when the Prime Minister of the day is questioned by the Chairmen or Chairpeople of the various Parliamentary Select Committees. The Liaison Committee considers the overall work of select committees, promotes effective scrutiny of Government and chooses committee reports for debates.   It questions the Prime Minister on policy issues, usually about three times a year.   

The main reason for my passing interest was that out local Member of Parliament here in Kent is Tom Tugendhat who is also Chairman of the Foreign Affairs Select Committee and as such has an influential voice on the Liaison Committee and the other day he was questioning the Prime Minister about an area of policy and, reasonably enough, anticipated a straightforward answer.

The press report of that exchange suggested that Boris Johnson, perhaps not for the first time, seemed unprepared and responded to questions "with a waffly series of ill-prepared replies."  Tom spotted what the Prime Minister was up to and snapped, "I`m interested in the answers to my questions, not the ones you wished I had asked."   Boris referred to Tom as `Mr. Tugendhat,` which suggests that the pair of them, despite supposedly being on the same side, do not enjoy the best of relationships.

Shouldn`t be surprised at this or indeed at the Prime Minister`s apparently unconvincing responses to legitimate questions.  It`s the same at Prime Minister`s Questions every Wednesday in the House of Commons, where his answers are confined largely to bluster, equivocation and evasion.   Maybe it should be renamed Prime Minister`s Answers?

 

So last night`s Euro semi-final between Engerland and Denmark finally ended in a win after extra time for the home team thanks largely to an own goal and a dubious penalty.  England now face Italy in Sunday`s final, again at Wemberly.   Given the level of euphoria following last night`s nerve jangling affair one could be forgiven for thinking that some great battle had been won and that the future of the country had once more been assured.  Shades of 1945?

Now don`t get me wrong - I`m as pleased and relieved as anyone at the result, although I do feel a tinge of regret for Denmark, who were excellent and gracious in defeat.

I`ve always been partial to a nice Danish pastry and the country has a lot going for it, once having been voted the happiest nation in the world.  But what also added to my tinge of regret was that Denmark`s defeat was arguably down to the way in which they used their substitutes - too many, too early - and substituting Southampton`s centre back, Jannik Vestergaard before extra time commenced.   So it`s game over for him and although the rest of his Saints team mates reported back for pre-season training on Monday, Jannik will no doubt have a bit of a holiday before joining up at St. Mary`s once again.

That is unless the rumours about him going to Tottenham are to be believed;  after all he has spent the last few weeks in the company of Danish team mate and former Saints captain Pierre Emile Hojbjerg who left us for Tottenham last season.   Just as well after all, that James Ward Prowse, to name but a few, was left out of the England squad or he might have been tapped up as well. 

So on to Sunday`s final against Italy.   Should be a walk in the park, after all Italy remain undefeated in all of their last 32 international games and must surely be ready for a fall.  Aren`t they?

 

So said Pope Benedict XV1 and he wasn`t wrong.  Nice one, Benny.  And his quotation seems entirely appropriate following Boris`s announcement yesterday that rather than the Government continuing to issue instructions about how to behave in the pandemic, the emphasis will now be on people taking personal responsibility for their own actions in dealing with friend Covid.

There has been a clamour for `Freedom Day` from the more vocal wing of the Tory party and from the leaders of industries such as hospitality and travel.   Boris has given in to all that presumably on the basis that if he had not done so then no-one would like him or vote for him any more.   Such is the considered depth of political priority rather than one which genuinely puts the wellbeing of the majority of people first.

So, personal responsibility is the new mantra and it will be instructive to discover how much of the population understands and acknowledges what that really means.  For example, it should not mean gathering together whooping and hollering in large groups without wearing masks or keeping a sensible distance; it should not mean using public transport or going to large shopping malls or shops without wearing face covering; it should not mean 60,000 spectators at Wembley, bars and night clubs opening. But it should mean respecting those around us, protecting ourselves and others by simply being sensible and bearing the social responsibility and concern for other people that should lie within each of us.   Trouble is, I suspect there`s a sizeable section of the population who will ignore all that, grasp every opportunity to express their own version of `freedom` and put the wellbeing of others at risk.  

I`ve been intrigued to hear about `mental health issues` apparently brought about by the restrictions we have been under and I do understand how difficult life must have been for those living on the 14th floor of a tower block, for example.  But there does seem to be a growth industry in self-diagnosing `mental health issues` almost as a badge of honour.  Indeed, the Government is citing mental health as one of the principle reasons to release some restrictions but I do wonder how serious the problem really is...or maybe it`s just people getting a bit fed up with things and needing to have a good moan.

I count myself fortunate to have avoided any kind of serious depression or no more anxiety than is normal for an octogenarian Saints fan struggling to survive on a fixed income.   I wonder why that should be.  Could my sang froid have its roots between 1939 and 1945 with my innocent acceptance of having to sleep under the stairs whilst the bombs went off up and down the shores of Southampton Water most nights?

But maybe I will have cause to become more concerned as I fear the worst during the next few weeks and months as the country`s version of personal responsibility is tested to its limits only for the gift of freedom to be withdrawn?

 

WORSE THAN WATCHING ?

It is a crazy world - and perhaps no more so than in the `transfer window,` which has just opened in English football.  And for us Southampton fans, the lunacy has already begun.  Now as the rest of the English football nation has their attention focussed on  Wednesday`s Euro Semi-Final against Denmark, quietly under the cover of that darkness the Saints` future prospects are rumoured to hang in the balance.

There are rumours and speculation about the future of a number of our top players.  Of course, that`s all it might be - rumour and speculation - but I`m old enough to recognise the signs when I see them.   Already it seems that Danny Ings has turned down a 4-year contract and is rumoured to be on the move to somewhere where he can do better for himself.   I take that to mean financially but with his injury record he might be a bit of a gamble for a top six club.  Southampton`s offer seems generous in the circumstances and it will be especially disappointing for him to leave his home town club who have shown loyalty and faith in him - qualities that are seldom, if ever, reciprocated.

Then there is club captain James Ward-Prowse, for whom a transfer to Aston Villa is rumoured and has not been denied.  He like so many others came from our Academy, started with us at the age of 8 and has been our captain for the past two seasons, during which he has played every minute of every Premier League game.  Maybe it`s ambition - to go to a club that might win something - but Aston Villa?

And now Jannik Vestergaard, Saints` stalwart Danish international centre back currently strutting his stuff in the Euro Championships to rave reviews.  No wonder other clubs are interested and speculation is becoming rife.   If he does go, along with Messrs. Ings and Ward-Prowse, then the established `spine` of our team will go with them and we have to start again.   Not easy and so in many ways this close season transfer window is, like most others, at least as stressful as watching actual games of football.

I guess I should be used to it by now.  I recall being at St. Mary`s all those years ago to see Theo Walcott`s first game for the Saints - he went off to Arsenal - and Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain`s first game for us - he went off to Arsenal too - and Gareth Bale`s first game before he went off to Tottenham.  Then I saw Luke Shaw`s first game before he went off to the Damned United.   And so it goes on, year after year.  But perhaps I`ve finally accepted that for the club to survive at all it must be financially self-sufficient otherwise, as happened when I was a shareholder, the finances became so stretched that we almost didn`t have a club at all.

The next few weeks in the livestock market will be interesting and informative as to whether we can survive another season in the Premier League.  Already, we have lost Ryan Bertrand to Leicester but, to be fair, the club have been quick to find an impressive replacement in signing Romain Perraud from Brest and we now wait with hope and expectation that other equally impressive signings might take the place of those who wish to seek their fortunes (literally) elsewhere.   Could be a long Summer, like most of the others.

 

IN PRAISE OF SUMMER EVENINGS..

In an unashamedly fit of self indulgence, ladies and gentlemen I give you this image of a bit of my back garden.    (Please click on it for a better picture.)

Now as well as being something of a horticultural wonderland, it is also a haven of refuge.  I enjoy gardening - it`s very therapeutic and you can see the results of your labours.  Just out of sight there are loads of tomatoes coming along nicely and in the greenhouse I`m developing the art of taking cuttings from things like geraniums.  So there`s always something that needs doing and it keeps me out of mischief.

But the real pleasure is to be there on balmy summer evenings.  Right now it`s high summer here in deepest Kent and now and again we get an evening free of wind, rain and all the other stuff that the elements throw at us in a typical English summer.  I sat there last evening for a short while - and when some nearby mowing had finally stopped - there was just the gentle breeze, the birdsong and the sun meandering its way towards sundown in the west.  

And, of course, it`s away from all the nonsense that`s going on in the world outside - in that respect it mirrors the comforting enclosure of Canterbury`s St. Lawrence cricket ground; once you`re there, anything that`s going on outside really doesn`t matter that much.  So it`s good to have a little time for yourself and to be away from all the political idiocy, the Boris thing, Batley and Spen (which sounds like a firm of estate agents,) Covid and it`s variations on a theme, climate change (what`s happened to Greta, I wonder?) Wimbledon and the most boring game imaginable (bonk-bonk 15-love, bonk-bonk 15-all, the `Come on Andy,` the strawberries and cream and the elitist culture that lurks beneath the purple and green) and a whole lot more raining in from the outside world that seems determined to enrol me into the path of mental health issues.

So the older and more cynical and disillusioned I become, the more I`m content to sit in my Kentish enclave on balmy summer evenings and let the rest of the world get on with it.  Just to add to the self indulgence, for which I hope you will forgive me, here`s another photo of a bit more of my lovesome plot, God wot ......