.......of a weird kind of sporting festive period.  Woke up on Boxing Day morning, switched on the Teletext thingy to see that England had once again disappointed the nation by being outplayed by Australia in the Test Match at the MCG.  As the mere twelve hours of play needed to complete yet another comprehensive Australian victory and thus retain the Ashes, a hint of despair descended on me.   Clearly a case of ashes to dust.  I never mind losing, it`s losing without any fight that causes the despair.  Or maybe it`s just the hope that does it.

So, could things get any better?  Of course - Southampton going to West Ham`s taxpayer gifted London Stadium and coming away with a 3-2 victory thanks to Jan Bednarek`s winning goal (see my previous post.)  I`m surrounded here by West Ham fans, some of whom I have not heard from since Boxing Day but to be fair one of them kindly handed me a matchday programme (£3..50 from all good stockists) and took the result with good grace.

And then yesterday the Saints pulled off a well deserved point by holding Tottenham to a 1-1 draw at St. Mary`s, despite being down to 10 men for over an hour and showing the kind of resolute defending and collective spirit that of itself earned those little bits of good fortune that came their way.  21 points from 19 games at the half way stage of the season is an encouraging sign and another three points against struggling Newcastle on Sunday would be even more so.  That`s if Newcastle turn up as they apparently have issues with Covid and injuries to their two best players which has meant that their game tomorrow against Everton has been called off.  (Saints had four Covid casualties and several injured players for yesterday`s game but they just got on with it.)

Elsewhere a number of games were postponed either because of Covid, waterlogged pitches or bad weather in Scotland so there were no games for Gillingham, Fort William, Brechin City, Truro City or Stoke Gabriel and Torbay Police FC.  Vale of Leithen did play but recaptured their losing ways by going down at home 6-0 to Rangers B and Aldershot went down 1-0 away at Dagenham and Redbridge, a game enlivened by the return of Scott Wagstaff following his own recent bout with Covid.

A special word for Maidstone United this weekend.  They went to near neighbours Tonbridge on Boxing Day and won 1-0 and followed that up with a convincing 4-1 win yesterday against Welling - a result that sees them joint top of the National League South but second in the table only because Oxford City have scored more goals than the Stones.  Could promotion be on the cards?

 

  Just about sums up a quite extraordinary sporting weekend.  A case of all action, some action and no action at all.   I`ll follow the rest of the world first by saying what a fantastic achievement it was by Emma Raducanu to win the US Open tennis grand slam title.  I see she was born in Canada but moved to the UK when she was two years old but despite claims from our Canadian friends that the final was between two Canadians, here in the UK we are claiming Emma as one of our own.  

And here in Kent we are claiming that she is a Kentish maid, albeit denying the fact that the bit of Kent she comes from is now within the London Borough of Bromley.   Great stuff though, Emma - very well done.  (I wonder if a bandwagon is revving up in Downing Street as bookmakers are opening books on how long before our Emma, a-la Blair knighting Ferguson, becomes Dame Emma?)

From that high we had the unedifying spectacle of no action at all in the fifth Test Match between England and India at Old Trafford which was called off, ostensibly due to panic in the Indian camp following a Covid outbreak among their non-playing group.   I just wondered whether that might have been a cunning plan to avoid playing the game which would have seen an England win levelling the series and sharing the points in the World Test Championship. 

 But perhaps that is unfair when the reality seems to be an acknowledgement that the power in the game now clearly resides with those players who seem more concerned to fulfil their lucrative IPL contracts than pay respectful homage to the traditions of the game.  Not a good look though - and as for playing the `deciding game` next summer, forget it, just award the game to England, call the series squared and move on.

In other news, a mixture of highs, lows and indifferences in the world of football. In a sense, Southampton`s neighbourly diplomatic friendly 0-0 draw at home to West Ham mirrored Emma being the first British woman tennis player to win a Grand Slam in 44 years.   Before Saturday`s encounter the Saints had gone 24 games without managing to keep a clean sheet - it just felt like 44 years.  

Another high was Brechin City`s 3-1 win away at Nairn County which keeps them on track for a swift return to the Scottish League Two and Maidstone United`s 2-2 draw with Concord Rangers (me neither) extended their  unbeaten run and kept them second in the table, whilst my other neighbour`s Gillingham secured a creditable 1-1 draw away at Burton Albion.  

But that was it really - a succession of dismal failures by the plucky minnows I also follow saw Truro City lose 1-0 at home to Beaconsfield Town;  Fort William lose 10-3 against high flying Inverurie Loco Works; and Stoke Gabriel and Torbay Police FC (SG&TBPFC) lose 6-2 away at AFC Torridgeside - a nice day out at Great Torrington though.

So in summary it looks like two wins (Emma and Brechin City;) three draws (Saints, Gillingham and Maidstone;)  three defeats and one non-event.   Well, sport is supposed to be about highs and lows, to be fair.  Try again next week.

 

QUESTIONABLE DECISIONS...

First an apology for being absent from these pages for a week or so - entirely due to matters beyond my control but good to be back and thank you to those aficionados who have enquired about my whereabouts.   Anyway, here we go again.

And I resume normal service by referring to two decisions taken over the weekend concerning sporting issues.   The first is the selection of the England squad to compete in the upcoming European Championships which begin at the end of the week.  And being a Saints fan my first gripe is about the apparent omission of Southampton captain James Ward-Prowse despite his really quite impressive performance in the last two pre-tournament `friendlies.`  

It was plain for all to see that his abundant energy, his relentless pressing, incisive passing and dead ball brilliance would bring something a little different to the options open to manager Gareth Southgate.  But no, instead Southgate has preferred Liverpool captain Jordan Henderson who has not played a full game since mid-February and is clearly less than match fit.  In addition he displayed his usual arrogance by donning the captain`s armband, pulling rank over Dominic Calvert Lewin, the designated penalty taker, and promptly missed the one penalty chance he was given with a tame effort that summed up his performance in the time he was on the pitch.

Trouble is, he plays for one of the `big six` - you remember them, the ones who were prepared to tear up competitive football in favour of a closed shop European Super League. I feel more than a trifle miffed for Jame Ward-Prowse who, of course `only` plays for Southampton.  The rascal in me hopes in a way that Southgate`s decision comes back to haunt him.

The second questionable decision concerns England cricket`s new man Ollie Robinson who made an impressive debut in his first test match for England in the drawn game against New Zealand.  The storm broke around him when somehow a couple of 10-year old tweets that he put on Twitter were apparently deemed sexist and/or racist in nature.  Once this came to light, Robinson issued a prompt, heartfelt and genuine apology for something he did all those years ago when he was still a teenager.

Never mind all that, the ECB have banned him from international cricket `pending an investigation` so Robinson has left the England camp and trudged back to Sussex, his playing county.  I was not surprised to hear that Culture Secretary Oliver Dowden has queried the ECB decision of which I hope there is a swift reversal very quickly.   Now when I was 18 or 19, despite Twitter and its ilk not having been invented, I`m pretty sure I did and said a few things that were of their time and in hindsight likely to have caused some offence to some people.   But such is the innocence and inexperience of youth and I would have hoped that Robinson` apology and regret would have been accepted so we can all `move on,` as they say.

(Preview alert ::  Also in my enforced absence some other `issues` have come to light which might encourage me to rant about but which might also impact on those of a sensitive nature.  Watch this space.....or not, a the case may be.)

 

I know the rest of the world is going bonkers but there`s really no excuse for the world of sport to follow likewise.  For example, I see that the International Olympics Committee (IOC) has decreed that `sports` such as break dancing and climbing up walls are to be included in the next Olympics, wherever and whenever that might be.   There`s also the inclusion of another `sport` which involves running around and jumping over an assortment of architectural features in various cities - the name of this bizarre pastime escapes me - but it makes me wonder how long we have to wait before other recreational activities are included.  Maybe dog walking, sheep shearing, pheasant shooting and those old standbys vole strangling or even barbed wire hurdling?

I stopped watching the BBC Sports Personality of the Year some time ago and I`m so glad I missed seeing this year`s edition which took up most of BBC 1 on Sunday evening.  There are so many problems and issues surrounding that annual fol-de-rol that make it utterly avoidable.  I am suspicious of the fact that the short list of candidates is apparently drawn up by `an expert panel`  chaired by the Director of BBC Sport, one Barbara Slater and including representatives of the sports industry, sports press and others.  It`s clear that they are determined to come up with a list of candidates that tick all the right boxes, demonstrate diversity and achieve the level of political correctness for which the BBC is infamous.

So I also begin to wonder where the `personality` bit comes in since quite often the candidates who emerge from the BBC`s tortuous process do not always have much of a `personality` anyway.  This year`s winner, Lewis Hamilton (of course) may be a whizzo racing driver but he comes across as someone of another world, another place, even another time.  I struggle to detect a personality that might win a personality contest, but maybe it`s just me.  Anyway, one of the conditions to be selected as a candidate is that the person `shall be resident in the UK` and last time I looked Hamilton was alive and well and living it up in Monaco.

And of course there is the spectre of Gary Lineker fronting it all and that in itself is more than enough to give it a miss.

I guess I`m just miffed that Danny Ings didn`t even get short listed.

A BIG TURN OFF...

I`ve got a kind of love/hate relationship with Sky TV.   Actually with television in general and not because next month I will be obliged to fork out £157 or something for a TV licence thanks to the BBC and HM Gov. stitching up the over 75s who have had the benefit of free licences until now.  (My solution to simply extend that benefit to the over 80s didn`t go down too well.)   Shame really as I would have qualified for that.

Anyway, back to Sky.   Now I enjoy watching a good deal of sport on Sky, especially cricket and football but I find I have mixed emotions when it comes to watching football.  If Southampton are being televised I either find something else to do, take the dog for a walk, anything really than go through the mental anguish of having to sit there and watch it. 

I never had that problem when I used to go and watch the Saints at St. Mary`s because I was part of the occasion, part of the action almost, possibly able to play a small part in how the proceedings unfolded - a good example was years ago when there was a groundswell of discontent with the stewardship of the club by one Rupert Lowe and I joined in with the crowd imploring us to `Stand up if you want Lowe out.`  Eventually he obliged.

In the days since the Premier League has renewed hostilities, both Manchester United and Liverpool have featured regularly which in terms of audience recruitment makes a good deal of sense with Liverpool winning everything in sight and Manchester United thinking they should.  The Sky coverage shows camera work at its best along with football`s most accomplished commentator in Martin Tyler - a dedicated Woking fan with a pleasant easy-on-the-ear delivery and the experience to know when something needs to be said and when it doesn`t.

Trouble is he is invariably accompanied by one or other of the most annoying `summarisers` and it seems that when Manchester United are playing we have to put up with the biased whining platitudes of Gary Neville and whenever Liverpool are playing we have to put up with the biased whining platitudes of Jamie Carragher for whom I think subtitles should be mandatory.   

They`re a big turn off.  Which is enough to be going on with before I launch into Sky`s Political Editor Beth Rigby with her anti-Government slogans and her inability to pronounce any word ending in `ing.`   At least I haven`t mentioned Naga ("Look at me") Munchetty today, but give it time........

OK, so the rest of the world is going on about yesterday`s fantastic day of sport and it doesn`t really need me to add to all the chat about it.   But sometimes things happen that make it impossible not to contribute to the litany of  comment and I`m no exception.  So here goes.

Now it used to be said that sport was the last refuge for those who find it impossible to idle, but even slumping in a chair for much of the day could hardly be described as idling given that there was so much going on for most of the day.  

But.I really must start with the cricket.  In my younger days I played a lot of cricket, even captaining a village team and I think it is one of those games that you really have had to play in order to fully understand and appreciate it.  But I suspect that the gripping climax to the World Cup Final at Lord`s must surely have meant that those who were not cricket buffs were as enthralled as those who are.  It was a truly memorable occasion and while being proud and happy that England are now world champions, I do spare more than just a thought for the New Zealand team who showed great sportsmanship, competitiveness and dignity in the narrowest of defeats that demonstrated that the spirit of cricket - that elusive je ne sais quoi - is alive and well in the Kiwi hands.  Maybe they will take some comfort in knowing that they were indeed part of something very special and that only a change in the laws of the game prevented them from being world champions themselves.

And while all that was going on, the tennis final at Wimbledon produced its own version of unique conclusion when the men`s singles final between Roger Federer and Novak Djokavic went to a fifth set tie-break for the first time in a final.  I used to play tennis as well - very badly admittedly - but I`ve sort of gone off Wimbledon in recent years what with its pomposity, elitism, its strawberries and cream, its Henman Hill and `come on Andy.` it`s a bit bonk-bonk 15-love, bonk-bonk 15-all and so on.  But I have to admit that yesterday`s final was, like the Lord`s one, something else that will live long in the memory.

And so to Silverstone, where Lewis Hamilton won the British Grand Prix for the sixth time bringing his F1 victories to a remarkable sixty.  Once again I must confess to some disenchantment with F1 which always seems a bit boring and arguably the most environmentally hostile of sports but even I have to acknowledge Hamilton`s achievements, especially as he seems now to have grown up from his days of `other-worldliness` when he seemed to distance himself from the realities of the rest of us.

I confess to being in awe of the Tour de France - the three-weeks long slog around the country, the ups and downs, the time trials, the sheer stamina required and the atmosphere surrounding the whole event is truly remarkable.  After five years of Le Tour being won by British riders I hope that Geraint Thomas might retain his title when the event ends in Paris in ten days time.   Like the other events of this mad weekend, the TV coverage is itself awesome and the commentaries come courtesy of those who have been there, done that and got the embrocation.   Trouble was that yesterday it was on at the same time as Wimbledon, the cricket and the Grand Prix so I hope today to be able to watch it without channel flicking and jumping up and down.

Almost last but not least, Southampton FC`s website was showing live action from the pre-season friendly between the Saints and some team in Austria which would have been fascinating to watch in full, rather than the odd snatched glimpse of a 1-1 draw.   Like the cricket final, that was another sporting occasion which neither team really deserved to lose.

Oh, before I forget, there is even the ongoing Netball World Cup going on but I`m afraid that I have not yet been able to get too enthusiastic about it especially when all the other events have taken their physical and mental toll on me after a day to remember of all days to remember.

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.

SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE ?

Yes, folks, today is indeed a very special day. Now for some people, the day might revolve around sporting issues - the British and Irish Lions drawing the series against the New Zealand All Blacks; the third day of the first test match at Lord`s between England and South Africa; the next stage of the Tour de France where Chris Froome is grimly hanging on to le maillot jaune; or even, believe it or not, a plethora of pre-season football matches. Oh, and I almost forgot Wimbledon, which is, of course, utterly forgettable.
  
Speaking of football, our street`s local hero, Gillingham`s box-to-box midfield dynamo cum pacy flanker and attacking wing-back with a good engine and an eye for a pass, recently married Scott ("Buzzin` Six-Pack") Wagstaff, featured in last night`s away fixture at nearby Faversham Town.  Waggy played 45 minutes, which was highlighted by him providing an incisive pass for the Gills` opening goal but also saw him blaze the ball over the bar when well placed. Still, it`s early days, to be fair and plenty of time to get his mojo working.

Back to today and the choices just keep coming.  For devotees of left wing socialism there is the Durham Miners Gala, where Jeremy Corbyn is sure to rant on about cuts in public services and how awful everything is and, of course, for those of a certain je ne sais quoi there is the London Pride thingy, the start of the Pride season up and down the country.

Now whilst neither of these events holds any attraction for the likes of me - aged, grumpy, set-in-my-ways, not a little bewildered at the changes that have occurred in my getting on for 80 years - it`s good to see that today there is something for everyone of whatever political, race, ethnicity,gender or spectating penchant they may have.   But, me being me, I will look out hopefully for the Stockbrokers and Bankers Gala in Canary Wharf, whilst I try desperately to convince myself that in a distant galaxy, far far away, there is a Straight Pride thingy going on right now.

Nurse!!!!

A sudden rush of decorating and associated tasks has kept me away from these pages for a while but now that week is over, I have had time to reflect on a few things which seem to be deeply troubling.

The week`s news has been dominated by the shenanigans concerning the `race for the White House` in the good ol` US of A.   And it troubles me considerably to see that that `race` is between a shrieking harridan of doubtful pedigree and a self-important mega-rich businessman with apparently no knowledge or experience whatsoever of politics, foreign policy or anything else to do with being the `leader of the western world.`  It truly is a choice between two of the least attractive presidential candidates there have ever been and, whoever wins, we are right to be uncertain as to what the future may hold.

And speaking of uncertainty, back here in our disunited Kingdom, there`s all the fuss about Brexit.  Now the issues and the arguments that surround it are too numerous, complex and arcane for me to even attempt to discuss them here.  But I wonder why I am deeply suspicious when I keep hearing politicians repeatedly declaring that they `of course respect the referendum result.`  I just have a feeling in my bones that we`ve seen this all before - the Irish referendum on the Mastricht Treaty springs to mind - and I just hope I live long enough to see the decree absolute finally arrive.

And so in a desperate attempt to lighten the gloom, I turn once more to football.  And what do I find this weekend?  The Saints, having seen off Inter Milan - yes, Inter Milan - last Thursday evening, stumble away to Hull City - yes, Hull City - yesterday afternoon; a result that really should not be allowed to stand.   After all, Southampton had so much more possession, more shots at goal, more corners than Hull City who had lost each of their last five games.   The result is clearly a mistake and so the game should be replayed, this time with the right result.   It`s obviously a case to be judged by the Independent Court of Arbitration in Sport, to be fair. 

And all the while, the mayhem in Syria, Iraq and other parts of our fractious planet remains unresolved.   As I started by saying, things seem to be deeply troubling.

WELL ALMOST..

This time last week we had just arrived home from a week in glorious Devon with much to look back on.   And after a fraught week this week I had hoped that this weekend would provide something to look forward to.   But I hadn`t bet on England`s humiliating exit from the Rugby World Cup or the fact that, following their stunning 3-1 win at Stamford Bridge last weekend, the Saints wouldn`t have a game at all this coming weekend.

(Incidentally, it should not have come as a surprise that all the press reports following Chelsea`s home defeat were all about how awful Chelsea were (even if they weren`t) and all about the ranting ego masquerading as their manager;  hardly a word about how impressive Southampton were.)

I can`t say I`m looking forward to England playing their European Qualifier against Estonia this evening despite the inclusion of Saints` Ryan Bertrand and former Saints Theo Walcott, Nathaniel Clyne and Adam Lallana in the England starting line-up with Alex Oxtail-Chamberlain on the bench; how on earth are we going to get on without the inspirational (I think that`s the right word) presence of Wayne Rooney, I wonder?  The Rugby World Cup will be on, of course, but it won`t be the same without Lancaster`s Lions so I might have to turn Welsh in order to get interested.

Meanwhile, I content myself with following the fortunes of the other Saints players plying their international trade across the globe - the heroic Steven Davis captaining Northern Ireland to the Euro Finals last evening;  Shane Long scoring the winner for the Irish Republic against Germany;  Maya Yoshida helping Japan to a comfortable win over Syria; Virgil van Dijk playing for Holland;  Sadio Mane for Senegal; Jose Fonte and Cedric Soares for Portugal; Dusan Tadic for Serbia;  Graziano Pelle for Italy, along with a host of our Academy graduates playing for England Under 21s, Under 20s and other age groups.

So maybe the weekend is not entirely lost even if it just feels like it.

TOUR DE FORCE..

I don`t know too much about cycling but I now know a lot more than I did three weeks ago.   My own cycling experience is limited to having owned, thanks to a family bequest in my early teens, a custom built Norman Invader with GB Superhood brakes, 1" wheels and even a holder on the handlebars to put drinks bottles in.  It cost me all of £25 but it was over 60 years ago and I rode it a lot until I was whisked away to do my National Service. Afterwards, my ambitions turned to motor cars and I developed the notion that cycling somehow seemed to deny the invention of the internal combustion engine.

But in the last few years I have become quite keen on following the exploits of our professional cyclists - all stemming from the deluge of medals that came our way in the 2012 London Olympics.  I was captivated by the triumphs of Sir Bradley, Sir Chris, Victoria, Jason, Laura and the rest, all choreographed by Sir Dave to bring the sport to the forefront.   But more than that, on that occasion I was also captivated by the incisive, passionate commentary from Hugh Porter and Chris Boardman who drew on their vast experience to bring the events to life in our living rooms.

And so the past three weeks have seen me following the Tour de France with eager anticipation of yet another success for Sir Dave, Chris, Geraint, Richie and the rest of the Sky team and back up staff.  And what another triumph it has been - a historic one with Chris Froome being the first from Britain to win le Tour twice.   They deserve all the plaudits and acknowledgement that will surely come their way.

But once again the whole event would not have been so enjoyable to watch without the commentary from Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen (pictured above) and the summaries from Chris Boardman (again) and David Millar. 

They know their stuff, these guys, they`ve been there, done it and got tee-shirts by the score and it has added so much to the enjoyment of the cycling uneducated like me to learn about the tactics, the positioning, the team strategies and so much more.  And all of it anchored by Gary Imlach in his individual style which is restrained, low key, controlled and a million miles away from any self-promotion or pretension.

So I`ve learned a lot more in the last three weeks and it`s just a pity for it all to have been shown on the relatively `obscure` ITV4 Channel - the event itself and those responsible for bringing it to our screens deserve high praise and a bigger audience.  It almost made me wish I hadn`t give up on my Norman Invader - I could have been a contender.

Someone once suggested that sport is `the last refuge for those who find it impossible to idle.`   But these days sport seems to be more and more the first port of call for those who are bewildered and  disillusioned by the pressures and stresses of modern day life.

And what a glorious weekend of escapism it has been.  Saturday morning began with the news of Martin Guptill`s staggering innings in New Zealand`s win over the West Indies to reach the semi-finals of cricket`s World Cup.  Guptill scored 237 not out including 11 sixes and 24 fours in just 163 balls and for me it put into context the probability that I never once scored 237 runs in a season, let alone in 20 blistering overs.

Then the Six Nations Rugby Tournament ended with Ireland winning the trophy by a whisker with England and Wales losing out on points difference.   But it was not just the enthralling and unpredictable spectacle of Saturday`s three games because, once again, Rugby showed football just how games even at the very highest level should be played and conducted with the utmost respect for the laws of the game and the match officials. Another breath of fresh air.

As for football, we had yet another inkling of what the Premier League is really all about in some brief, ill-considered post match comments by West Brom Manager, Tony Pulis. Now with some justification he was complaining that the referee had sent off the wrong player but his main concern seemed to be about the damage that decision had caused to `the product` rather than to his team.  "The Premier League is a fantastic product," he declared.  "It`s a product enjoyed by millions the world over and it doesn`t help when we have decisions like the one today."   

And so I turned to what is condescendingly referred to as the lower reaches of the game and the final of the Johnstone`s Paint Trophy played at Wembley yesterday afternoon between Bristol City and Walsall, with the added attraction that our street`s local hero, Scott Wagstaff, was in Bristol City`s winning squad.   Five years ago almost to the day I made my own pilgrimage to Wembley to see Southampton beat Carlisle to win the same trophy.  That day there were over 70,000 spectators, the vast majority from Southampton and we witnessed a joyous occasion. 

Yesterday there were 72,315 at Wembley - by far the biggest crowd at a sporting event in the UK this weekend and second only to the Barcelona/Real Madrid game in the whole of Europe.  So the Johnstone`s Paint Trophy is a prize worth winning, not just for its own sake but also because it provides a memorable occasion for loyal fans of teams who are far removed from the relentless glare of the Premier League and it reminds us that football is still a game to be played, watched and enjoyed, rather than a product to be sold in a results driven global market.

Yesterday morning I painted the walls in the bathroom - well, it needed doing - and as I did so I felt a tinge of regret that I wasn`t using Johnstone`s Paint.

  

It`s not been a comfortable weekend for us English sports fans.   I woke up this morning to the news that the England cricket team had once again been stuffed by a former colony, in the process of which England became only the second team in World Cup history to lose by nine wickets having posted a total over 300.   The endangered species to which I referred last week is now in danger of becoming extinct.  Yikes!!

This afternoon, against my better judgement on a fine Spring day, I watched the England Rugby team lose to Ireland in Dublin and thus deny themselves any chance of the Six Nations Championship.   No complaints - Ireland were the better team and deserved their victory.  I guess it just wasn`t meant to be.

Yesterday, in keeping with Snopper Street tradition, the fortunes of our various football teams were, as ever, followed with eager anticipation.   The Saints, having gone a goal down after just 72 seconds, lost to the Throstles of West Bromwich Albion and with other results not going our way, the Saints now drop down to sixth in the Premier League, leaving their Champions League hopes in considerable doubt.   I guess it just wasn`t meant to be.

Elsewhere, my respective neighbours saw both West Ham and Gillingham lose at home and to compound the felony, Truro City went down 2-0 to Cirencester, thus putting a bit of a damper on their play-off hopes.  I guess it just wasn`t meant to be, to be fair.

Some years ago, the Chelsea leg end that is John Terry was interviewed following an unexpected reverse in some Cup Final or other.   His reaction?  "Well, I guess it just wasn`t meant to be."   We here in our slightly depressed enclave know what you mean, John.  Or maybe it`s our old friend Karma rearing its head again and striking back following my derision of Dejan Lovren and his hopeless but infinitely enjoyable penalty miss the other evening?   

A NOTE OF THANKS..

I`ve been away from these pages for a few weeks.  Sorry about that but I`ve had a few `issues` that needed to be resolved (have you noticed that people tend not to have problems an more, rather they have `issues?`)  Mine have centred around family things - seasonal illnesses and the like - computer problems, unwelcome visitors to this site, the advent of the season of goodwill and a strange loss of enthusiasm, which might well have been due either to writer`s block, the effects of Seasonal Affective Disorder or another symptom of the advance of anno domini.

But what really encouraged me to resume `normal` service was that I felt I should say a few words about one of my writing heroes, who has decided to retire after 50 years as a sports journalist in Fleet Street.  Now there are lots of reasons, mainly wrong ones, for buying newspapers but the only reason I have bought the Mail on Sunday for years now, is because of Patrick Collins.   The picture above shows him as an urbane, intelligent, thoughtful gentleman and it was those qualities and more that came out in his writing.  It was always perceptive and considered and that, along with a masterful application of the English language, meant that each week we were treated to inspiring and incisive essays on the sporting issues of the moment.

There have been great sports journalists in the past - Ian Wooldridge, Frank Keating, John Arlott, David Lacey - and they all had their individual styles.  Patrick certainly had his own and it is the way he said things, as much as what he had to say, that marked him out as very special.   I`m sorry he`s decided to retire, but he is 70 and, as he takes his seat for each home game at the Valley to watch his beloved Charlton Athletic, he should know that he is  much missed, admired and respected.   I hope his retirement is a long and happy one.

ACCIDENTAL DAMAGE..

Well over half a century ago I used to enjoy playing all the sports I could get my hands on and it was always a toss-up between football and cricket as to which one I enjoyed the most.  In those days, the dividing line between the end of the cricket season and the start of football was very clear - I would have my last cricket game one Saturday and start the football season the next.

But in either sport I was - how shall I say? - undistinguished but in those days each game seemed, by and large, to be played in a kind of unspoken Corinthian spirit, where offence was rarely given or taken.   And the memories of those rare occasions when I was guilty of sporting offence still trouble me to this day.  And one incident in particular still refuses to go away.

Thanks to various transfer windows, the football teams I played for were reasonable enough and I spent the last few years of my dwindling `career` playing for the formidable Maidstone Dolphins in Division 3B (really Division 7) of the Maidstone and District Unsponsored Saturday League.  One Saturday afternoon on the unhallowed turf of Mangravet Recreation Ground we played a team one of whose players had only one arm.  

As a box-to-box midfield dynamo with a good engine and an eye for a pass, I came up against this player and in a brief fit of competitiveness I accidentally knocked him off the ball and he fell to the ground.  The referee blew for a foul - the first and only time I can recall having committed such an offence - and I immediately apologised not only to my opponent but also to the referee.  I genuinely felt awful about it and the incident affected me for the rest of the game.   It`s not the sort of thing you forget and here I am over 50 years later going on about it.

God only knows how Sean Abbott must feel.

NOT QUITE RIGHT..

So, the BBC`s contenders for Sports Personality of the Year have been announced.  No real surprises there with Lewis Hamilton already quoted at 1-4 as the bookies` favourite and other arguably more worthy contenders trailing in his wake.  I`ve no quarrel with the other nominations which seem to represent most sports - (with the notable exceptions of Rugby and Cycling, which we are pretty good at) - and they include a boxer, swimmer, gymnast, golfer, very worthy Paralympians, a lady who does dressage with her horse and another who went downhill very fast on a tea tray.

Now I realise that there are millions of people in thrall with the world of Formula One racing and I also know it`s a world of `to each his own.`   But I have long wondered why motor racing qualifies as a `sport,` when the whole business is an environmentally hostile, deafeningly noisy, boring spectacle run by an organisation of dubious presence, whose champion is decided as much by technical and mechanical competence than by whoever happens to be sitting in the cockpit.

And motor racing has produced Lewis Hamilton. Now some months ago, there was a bit of controversy when Premier League referee Mark Clattenburg accused then Saints player, Adam Lallana, of `being very different now you`ve played for England.`  The accusation may have been flippant and raised some eyebrows but it may have contained an element of truth. It certainly seems to be the case with Hamilton who seems to have morphed into a kind of dream-world of his own following his cockpit sitting exploits.   He seems somehow `unworldly,` in a bubble of his own, not really one of us any more, not quite right. 


Now someone with a real personality is Jo Pavey who, at nearly 43 years of age, won the European 10,000 metres gold medal in Zurich, making her the oldest ever female European champion.  All this after having won the bronze medal in the 5,000 metres at the Commonwealth Games just ten days earlier.   A mother of two, eight months after giving birth to her second child she won the British 10,000m title.  She is one of those almost unsung champions, shunning the spotlight, reserved, modest, engagingly charming with no pretences and certainly no twin diamond ear studs. 

  

She won`t win the BBC Sports Personality, of course - that wouldn`t be quite right in a world that values brash excess over quiet achievement.

ONE OF THOSE DAYS..

Yesterday was one of those days.  Now, I don`t watch television that much, especially now that programmes such as`Mrs. Brown`s Boys` - the banal masquerading as comedy - apparently attract an unthinking audience and so my choice of viewing these days is restricted to BBC4, News and, inevitably, sport.   And yesterday I was confronted by the impossibility of being able to watch everything I wanted to watch, all of which was on at the same time.

On BBC 2 there was the enthralling coverage of the European Athletics Championships in Zurich.   On Sky Sports 3 there was the unfolding drama of the final test match between England and India from the Oval.  And on Sky Sports 2 the Premier League`s Sunday Special between Liverpool and Southampton, a game full of promise, expectation and not a little heartache - a game I imagined would be risky to sit through.

It seemed a bit pointless to tune in to the test match because it`s a five-day game and there would surely be enough of the game left for me to watch before it reached its conclusion.   And my heart whispered that I should give the athletics a try, as I could record the football and watch it later.   So I did and I was rewarded with the Great Britain team producing outstanding performances to finish top of the medal table, on the bounce from England doing the same at the recent Commonwealth Games in Glasgow.  It`s always nice to come out of Europe in top - if you can`t leave `em, beat `em.

When that coverage ended at 5.00pm I turned over to catch up with the cricket only to discover that the game had ended in a flurry of tumbling Indian wickets to provide England with the spectacular series win that we had been hoping for so long.   In between, I had kept tabs on events at Anfield, which saw Liverpool win 2-1 against the Saints but I knew I would have a late night catching up with the recording.

But there was more to it than all that.   I had almost sub-consciously plumped for the summer sports as it`s supposed still to be summer and I kind of resent the fact that football has already begun and it`s still August.   Besides which, there is a deep and widening cultural divide between the heroics of track and field, the timeless charm of cricket and the increasingly commercial parallel universe of the Premier League in particular.   And, as football belongs to the dark, cold depths of winter it really should bide its time and allow the summer sports to drift peacefully away until the return of the sun in the Spring of next year.

BON CHANCE, LE SAGE..

The gentleman pictured left, puffing his way up a steep French incline, is Brian Robinson, seen taking part in the 1958 Tour de France.  He has been in the news today because, at the age of 83, he was knocked off his bike by a car whilst out for a ride in his native Yorkshire.   He has been kept overnight in hospital suffering from a suspected broken collar bone and cuts and bruises.   Just what you don`t need when you`re 83.

There`s no doubt that Robinson was a trail blazer for British cycling on the Continent and he became the first Briton to finish Le Tour in 1955 and the first to win a stage in 1958. The report of his accident held a resonance for me for a couple of reasons.

As you can see, he was riding a very smart bike - blue frame; 1" wheels; Superhood brakes and even a bottle of water in a nifty holder on the handlebars.  At just about the same time as this picture was taken, I `inherited` £25 from a family heirloom and went to a bike shop in Maidstone and asked the owner to make a bike up for me.   So he did, complete with blue Norman Invader frame, GB Superhood brakes, 1" wheels and even a nifty holder on the handlebars for drinks bottles.   I really felt the part and spent many happy hours touring the highways and byways of deepest Kent.

Now in professional cycling in those days, I doubt if `performance enhancing drugs` had even been invented let alone taken and I`m pretty sure the training regime was as much to do with sheer grit and determination as anything else.   And Brian certainly had those qualities in abundance, but also a clever tactical brain that helped him judge a race, judge the opposition and judge when to make his move, all of which saw him dubbed as `Le Sage` by his growing band of French admirers, especially after that historic first ever stage win by a British cyclist.

I recall not long after that triumph being called upon by my father, who kept a pub at the time, to help out by `conversing` with a party of Frenchmen who had stopped off for some refreshment.   Now my French was very much pidgin, so too was their English, but we managed to pidgin our way through a drinks order and then turned the conversation to the one subject that stood any chance of uniting us - Le Tour and Le Sage.  The entente quickly became distinctly cordiale, thanks to our shared admiration for Brian Robinson`s contribution to one of the many things for which the French demonstrate their passion.

I still recall that incident very clearly and so I was sorry to hear of Brian`s accident and hope he makes a full and speedy recovery from his injuries.  

   A TOE IN THE WATER..

My apologies for absence for a while but I had some `unwelcome visitors,` who now seem to have gone away.  I hope they stay away and that my tactic of simply ignoring them has worked.   Anyway, I`m dipping a toe in the water with this one just to see if things are now `back to normal` - whatever that may be - and how better to test the water than to comment on yesterday`s sporting `performances.`

It was an inauspicious day all round for my sporting heroes, culminating this morning when I got up a bit early to see how the Test Match was going only to witness the death throes of England`s cricketers as they slumped to a 381 run stuffing by the rampant Aussies.   Now throughout my entire career as a devotee of the beautiful game, I doubt I ever scored 381 runs all told, so England`s defeat was indeed comprehensive.

On the footy front things were no brighter - my beloved Saints suffering their first defeat in the Premier League since August, thanks to a goalkeeping blunder of heroic proportions by `Mad Artur` Boruc and a dodgy penalty generously awarded by referee Clattenburg when Saints defender Jose Fonte brushed a couple of bits of fluff off Per Mertesacker`s shirt.  2-0 to the Arsenal then, but at least the Saints stay in the top four....until this afternoon.

But my heart really goes out to my next door neighbour, avid Gillingham devotee Mr. Slightly, who once again had to suffer the indignity of his team losing at their Priestfield ex-fortress, this time to lowly Oldham.   On my way back from taking Barney out for his walkies this morning, I noticed Mr. Slightly`s car speeding off in the direction of Cuxton, presumably he was on his way to the local community refuse tip to throw his season ticket into the bin that has been especially provided for exasperated Gills fans.   Et tu, Slightly ?

What a summer we`re having.   Quite apart from the gorgeous weather we`re having yet another astonishing summer of sport - Andy Murray, Justin Rose, The Lions, Chris Froome, the England cricket team - there has been so much to admire and celebrate that it is entirely possible that I`ve missed someone out, for which I apologise.

But already the gathering storm of Premier League football threatens to bring this momentous summer crashing about our ears.   I suppose, to be fair, the retirement of palaeolithic manager `Sir` Alex Ferguson from Manchester United has brought a shaft of sunlight into an otherwise gloomy prognosis for the coming season although the return of arch-fantasist Jose Mourinho at Chelsea should remind us not to count our chickens too hastily.

I had a small barrage of e-mails from the club I have followed for 67 of my 74 years inviting me to buy a season ticket at St. Mary`s for the coming season.   I considered their invitation carefully but two factors came to the forefront of my mind.   The first was the cost - to secure the same seat I occupied for years, ever since St. Mary`s took the place of The Dell at Southampton, would set me back £820;  then the travelling costs for my 250 miles round trip, something to eat and drink, a programme, possibly the occasional parking fine, left me wondering seriously about our old friend `value for money.`

The second factor was the simple reality that the Southampton Football Club I knew and grew to love all those years ago has long departed.   There was a time when the club really was part of the community and the community part of the club, owned, managed and quite often played by local people who understood the respective value of club and community.   These days, the club is owned by a Swiss/German family, run by an Italian Chairman, managed by an Argentinian and played, amongst others, by a Pole, a Japanese, a Dutchman, a Uruguayan, a Frenchman, a Croatian, a Kenyan and a Brazilian.

Whilst all this summer sporting success continues (Australia 32-2 as I write) we should remind ourselves that in the last few weeks the England Under 21s, the Under 20s and even the Ladies football teams have all departed from their respective international competitions with more whimpers than bangs and, despite Premier League boss Richard Scudamore`s absurd insistence that it is `utter nonsense` to blame the number of foreign mercenaries playing in the Premier League for England`s international failings, we all know different.  

His product may well be reaching its sell-by date just in time for the England national team to miss out on qualification for the next World Cup and if so, then perhaps the storm gathering on the horizon might blow some good after all.   And before we know it, these long, hazy days of summer with all the joyous memories they bring, will fade into yet another winter of discontent as the grasping avarice of Mr. Scudamore`s beautiful game jars our senses once more.   It could and should be so very different.   If only.