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.

YET ANOTHER HAZARD..

FROM OUR GOLF CORRESPONDENT

Today saw Snopper`s return to the golf circuit with a round of heroic inadequacy at Poult Wood.   Admittedly the conditions were not the best with a recurring drizzle making the course very wet underfoot.   Golfers of even modest ability might well have avoided too many problems, since the chances of their balls arriving on the fairways are pretty good.   However, in Snopper`s case, fairways seemed today to take the form of restricted areas, ones into which he was barred from entering.   Consequently, by about the third hole, his feet had become wringing wet due to a lethal combination of wading through the seemingly endless rough and wearing 30-year old golf shoes which had lost any pretence of waterproofing years ago.

To be fair, his first tee shot was encouraging, landing on the green but, as ever, the three putts meant that the hole won the first round and from then on things got worse - he even managed to record a five over par eight at the third, by which time a certain numbness had begun to creep into his bunionised plates of meat.   There is absolutely no point in recording the paucity of the score for his round but if he is to return to the game in the near future, he really must invest in a new pair of golf shoes.

This might not be easy for an elderly person struggling to survive on a fixed income in times of austerity but maybe if he simply views the task as yet another in a long line of hazards to contend with, then he might just pull through this latest setback in his undistinguished golfing career.   Or maybe there is a registered charity somewhere out there whose purpose in life is to provide hopeless, ageing golfers with waterproof shoes - a bit like the winter fuel allowance only more useful.  People could go on charity walks, run marathons, rattle tins outside superstores, that kind of thing.  After all, every little helps.

Maybe it`s just me but I always find returning home from a holiday brings mixed feelings.  Of course, there`s no place like home  but the re-entry brings into sharp focus all the things you managed to escape from whilst being away.

Seems particularly the case if, like me, you`ve had a wonderful week of glorious weather in beautiful surroundings, all of which make it easier to immerse yourself in that environment and escape from the trials of modern day life.  You see, when you stand on a remote cliff top and feel the wind in your face, breathe in the pure air and just be at one with the elements, not much else really matters.

But I got home and back to life in the one time Garden of England and very quickly I`m brought back down to earth.   For example, we go shopping at the local superstore on Saturday morning, park the car and wander down past the disabled parking spaces, where a very large car turned up and parked, its owner leaps out resplendent in his extra large Spurs football shirt, his arms covered in tattoos and briskly makes his way to the cash machine.   Now unless being a Spurs fan is a registered disability (which it might well be, of course) I get annoyed not only at the pugnacious persona on display but also the totally inconsiderate assumption that parking in disabled spaces is OK.  You certainly know when you`re back in the south east of England.

And today, never mind the chaos in the middle east or the migrant problems of biblical proportions, the main issue concerning the media is the terrible consequences of making people pay 5p for a plastic bag. So welcome home, but I think I`m off to find a remote cliff top somewhere.

CAUGHT IN THE LIGHT...

Been away for a week in the South Hams of South Devon, staying at Bigbury on Sea.  It`s another of our favourite parts of the country and we enjoy the coast path walks, the beaches, the Devon villages and the weather, which blessed us with a week of unbroken sunshine with a bit of a breeze which made the walking even more enjoyable.

And this is a prime location for sunsets, like the one I captured in the photo above last Thursday evening.   The ship which was caught in the light of a spectacular sunset is the Belgian Navy Patrol ship, Pollux, which was commissioned just a few months ago to join her sister ship, Castor (of course.)

I knew that Belgium produced excellent chocolate and good footballers but I didn`t know Belgium had a navy. But it seems they have and Pollux is reported to spend her time patrolling the waters off the Belgian coast and has recently `escorted` a Russian submarine off the Belgian patch.   So what was it doing in Bigbury Bay last Thursday evening, I wonder?   Well, I can but guess that it had heard about the South Devon sunsets and decided to check it out.   Can`t blame them really, can you?

CONFESSIONS OF A STYLE GURU..

I really thought I had it made.  Last week I paid a rare visit to Marks and Spencer in a quest to kit myself out for the coming winter.  In keeping with tradition, I went for the tried and tested Blue Harbour trousers and rugby shirt in a fetching shade of fawn;  all topped off by a new pair of Nike Air trainers in darkish blue, the white laces of which required changing to black in order take some of the glare of the startling white away from the predominantly blue background.

This adventure was followed up the day after by a visit to my stylist, Chris of Larkfield, whose skill and dexterity in reshaping my coiffure were tested to the limit.  Sharp is hardly the word for the result - more `edgy.`  So that was me done......that is until over the weekend I noticed that prominent figures such as politicians, footballers, management types, BBC presenters, all seemed to have a different `presentation` to that which I had just acquired.

I wondered what the problem might be when suddenly I twigged that there was something missing in my outward appearance and if I was to maintain my status as a fashion icon, a style guru, then I might need to make a few changes after all.   So I`m seriously thinking about growing a beard, wearing open necked shirts, perhaps a scruffy jacket and a big handbag, getting the odd tattoo and implanting random bits of metal on assorted areas of my body. 

But most of all I need to get into the habit of carrying a cardboard coffee cup around at an angle parallel to the ground and leave people guessing whether there really is any coffee in it or whether it`s yet another clever but subtle fashion accessory. And last but not least, I need a name-tag on the end of a bit of string so I know who I am, even if no-one else does.

Problem is that, if I go to all that trouble, I suspect I might feel a complete twonk, even though I might have the comfort of knowing that I will be right up there with the good taste and style of modern day life.   

INTERESTING....

I was sorry to hear of Brian Sewell`s passing yesterday at the age of 84 following a losing battle with cancer.   He was without doubt `interesting` but perhaps perception of him was too often limited by his rather superior, almost regal manner of speaking.  It was, however,  probably the least `interesting` aspect of a very `interesting` life.

I won`t go on about the many facets of his 84 years - others have done that in abundance - but there are a couple of things that I feel are worth mentioning here.   The first is his parentage which, it turns out, included the composer Peter Warlock as his biological father, who died before Sewell was born.  Warlock himself was `interesting` and is perhaps best remembered, by me at least, for his  beguiling Capriol Suite.

Sewell counted among his friends Anthony Blunt, Roy Strong, Francis Bacon and Lucien Freud  and he was a seriously accomplished and respected art historian and critic.   And it is in this area that he is perhaps remembered as being harshly critical, often waspish but unfailingly honest as a judge of artists and their work.  He lampooned the choice of Liverpool as European Capital of Culture in 2008;  he thought that Tracey Emin was `the Jade Goody of art;` and Banksy was ` a complete clown.`

He loved dogs and motor cars in equal measure but for me his greatest gift to the modern world was to condemn pretty much everything about modern art as pretentious tosh, not worthy of a second glance.   Maybe there was much about Brian Sewell to disagree with or to find uncomfortable, but in his rejection of modern art and `artists` he was not only spot on in his assessment but also voicing the feelings of a large section of the population, especially those provincials, like me, who want no truck with any form of metropolitan affectation.

He will be missed.

MAÑANA...

It seems a long time ago now since Britain was landed with a bill by the EU as a result of them levying a surcharge based on the size of the economies of member countries.   Britain`s bill amounted to £1.7 billion - or £17,000,000,000 in plain language.   At the time, Dave Cameron said he was `downright angry` at this revised membership contribution and the public would find it `totally unacceptable.` He wasn`t wrong.

It now transpires that, despite those strident protestations, the surcharge has now been paid - quietly and unobtrusively - in two instalments;  one in July and the other at the beginning of this month.  Following frantic `negotiations` at the time - about a year ago now - the EU extended the deadline for payment but did not reduce the sum, despite George Osborne claiming to have halved it in talks with Brussels.  However, a Commons Treasury Report published earlier this year found that the Chancellor`s claim `was not supported by the facts.`

And so once again, the `value for money` of Britain`s membership of the EU comes into question.  Perhaps we are entitled to receive a better service from Brussels for the £58 million we pay them each and every day, never mind the extraordinary `surcharge` we have just coughed up.   Europe is in the throes of one of the major refugee crises and the response from the `United Nations of Europe` has been bewilderingly ineffective.  

On Tuesday of this week Brussels announced that the heads of EU Governments would hold `an emergency summit` to discuss the refugee issue;  however, that `emergency meeting` will not take place until next Tuesday.  They clearly have a strange idea of `emergency` and even then they will just sit around and talk about it against the backdrop whereby any sense of `unity` among the EU countries is rapidly being shown up for the illusion it really is.

So we have been treated to yet another bout of smoke and mirrors not only by the EU but also by Dave and George, the UK`s very own illusionist double act, who have behaved dishonourably by throwing yet more taxpayers cash at this failed `project.`   As for the EU, it seems they might have a chat about things all in good time, which reminds me that in Cornwall things get done dreckly - like mañana only slower. Surely we have a right to expect better from our elected leaders.   Oh, OK then, perhaps not.

DISAPPOINTMENTS...

Just over the border in Maidstone, it seems it`s considered sacrilegious to suggest any form of disenchantment with their former MP, Ann Widecombe.  I imagine the same goes for the current incumbent, one Helen Grant, who rose without trace and then shot to obscurity following her forgettable foray into the Ministerial world. Maybe the electors of Maidstone are just easily pleased.

Now, on Monday evening the audience at the Theatre Royal in Windsor were treated to "An Evening with Ann Widdecombe" to head up the Royal Windsor Arts Festival.  She told the captive audience of `her life journey and the people that influenced her along the way` and she relived her political career including being in the Shadow Cabinet in the 1990s.`  

And in the course of that entertainment for the good folk of Windsor, she confessed that, "I`m afraid David Cameron won`t have me in the House of Lords."  (Cue audience chortles, I imagine.)  La Widdecombe is now 67 and since turning it in as an MP, has pursued a career which has included TV reality `star,` novelist and panto regular, the latter experience giving her the chance to conclude that "If I can`t dress up in ermine, I might as well dress up as a fairy godmother."

Which says much about her presumed entitlement based on her own notion that she has become a national treasure; whereas in reality we`re simply left to decide whether her disappointment is greater than that of our own that she is still treading the boards of her own self-delusion.

NOW THERE`S A THOUGHT..

Well, another Monday has arrived.  I`m pretty sure I don`t like Mondays - most of them seem to be manic but the weekend has given us plenty to ponder.

For me one of the most troubling reports  was the suggestion that, hidden among the countless migrants/refugees knocking on Europe`s doors, a whole load of them might actually be ISIS terrorists in disguise.   Now we have no way of knowing whether that`s true or not and I suppose we all want to assume it isn`t.   But even if that`s the case, the mere fact that this notion has been reported in the media might well provide ISIS HQ with food for thought.

"Seen this, Mohammed?  Some infidel is accusing us of smuggling our lads into Europe posing as genuine refugees.   Sounds like a good idea.  Let`s give it a go."

In other news, the frankly bizarre convulsions going on in the Labour Party show no signs of abating.   Jezza is putting his shadow cabinet together and he has promised (I think) to ensure that there are an equal number of women in it.  Good idea, very laudable, quite right, no problem with that.   But if he`s true to his inclusive principles I expect he`ll be looking to include representatives of other sections of our `society` as well.   

So far, he seems to have appointed at least one MP from an ethnic minority background but surely needs one or two or three or four to represent the LGBT world (I always worry about confusing that with BLT) possibly a dwarf or two, someone who`s ginger, another to give the baldist point of view and maybe, just maybe, someone who might be erring on the side of being sensible. 

Meanwhile, so far there`s no sign of a shadow appointment for the recently elected 30-year old Cat Smith, MP, who was one of Corbyn`s backers for the Leadership.  Having attended Cartmel College at Lancaster University where she graduated with a BA in Sociology and Gender Studies, she worked for Jezza as a policy officer for the British Association of Social Workers.   She identifies herself as "a Christian, socialist, feminist, republican and trade unionist" as well as identifying as bisexual and engaged to a man called Ben.

Just the kind of person we need in this brave new world - Cat, I mean, not the man called Ben.   On the other hand that might not be a bad idea either.......

INTERESTING TIMES..

Today of all days, the well thumbed, 2,000 year old quotation from Roman courtier Gaius Petronius somehow seems entirely fitting.   Here it is:-

"We trained hard, but it seemed that every time we were beginning to form up into teams, we would be reorganised.   I was to learn later in life that we tend to meet any new situation by reorganizing;  and what a wonderful method it can be for creating the illusion of progress whilst merely producing confusion, inefficiency and demoralisation."

And newly elected Labour Leader Jeremy Corbyn`s first task will be to reorganize the Party and form a team to reflect his vision of how things should be.   He and his new Deputy, the Witchfinder General Tom Watson, will form an interesting left sided midfield with Corbyn the scheming playmaker  and Watson the battling, combative enforcer.

Now given the lack of support for Jezza among the Parliamentary Party, I suspect we`ll see the return of a kitchen cabinet made up of like minded individuals acting as a focus group for Corbyn`s policies and strategies.   As his first act following the Leadership announcement was to join a rally in support of the refugees, I think we can have a pretty informed guess as to who his kitchen cabinet might include.

The inescapable Benedict Cumberbatch, one-hit wonder Billy Bragg, queen luvvie Emma Thompson, mother hen Polly Toynbee and I quite expect Bob (`I don`t like Mondays`) Geldof to be incapable of resisting a jump onto Corbyn`s bandwagon.  Dave Cameron must think Christmas has come early and the LibDems, gathering in the local phone box might be harbouring dreams of escaping the bottom of their particular barrel.   Perhaps the most intriguing and -  for middle England Luddites like me - the most encouraging aspect is that Corbyn`s Eurosceptic credentials might add weight to the `Leave` campaign in the European Referendum.   I suspect Nige is waiting the phone call already.

Whatever happens, the interesting times in which we find ourselves are going to get a whole lot more interesting.  Much of it will be illusory, of course, but in the ranks of the Labour Party faithful, confusion, inefficiency and demoralisation might once more prove the wisdom of the Roman courtier`s assertion.  

Two examples of loyalty today, both very different.  The first and most genuine is that of Her Majesty the Queen becoming the country`s longest serving monarch.  I remember as a callow youth hearing her declare that she would devote her life to serving the country and she has fulfilled that promise with great distinction.  

Now there are people who are decidedly anti-monarchy and whilst I would not go that far, I do have reservations about the number of royals, the hangers-on, the pomp and expensive circumstance;  indeed, I turned down an invitation to a Garden Party at Buck House simply because I didn`t want to go.  But I do not question the Queen`s loyalty and I wish her well on this historic milestone.

Also today we heard about and possibly saw Wayne Rooney become England`s top goalscorer in internationals when he slammed home a convenient penalty in the 2-0 win over Switzerland last evening.   But, whilst acknowledging the 50 goals he has now scored for his country, I`m reluctant to  congratulate him too warmly for a number of reasons. 

His record shows that he has scored just two goals in any major tournament since 2004 and has never scored in the knockout phase of any major tournament  The  goal he scored last year against Uruguay was a tap in and the one against Ukraine was a free header from all of six inches.   Now, 50 goals is 50 goals but it`s worth remembering that a good number of Rooney`s have been penalties and others have been against the likes of San Marino, Andorra, Estonia, Montenegro, Slovenia and Belarus.   Sir Bobby Charlton he ain`t.

It also has to be said that, as the current captain of England he cuts a rather forlorn figure.  Not his fault of course, but one might expect our captain to represent the country with arguably a little more ambassadorial dignity than has so far been shown.   But coming to my second example of loyalty on this memorable day, I am reminded that Mr. Rooney, whilst admittedly still very young, pledged himself to the cause of Everton by much enthusiastic badge kissing and declaring himself to be "A Blue Forever."   Whereupon he promptly upped sticks, abandoned his avowed loyalty and left Goodison Park for the Evil Empire of Old Trafford.

I really do hope - probably more for his own sake than anything else - that Her Majesty might resist the urge to dub Rooney `Sir Wayne.`   It really doesn`t sound right and things that don`t sound right seldom are.

HOME AGAIN, HOME AGAIN...

Been away for a week exploring the highways and byways of north Devon.   It`s an area we haven`t visited for a long time, so it was good to re-visit some places and find some new ones.   Probably the most `enjoyable` was the discovery of Selworthy which is just over the border into the part of Exmoor which lies in Somerset.   I had read about Selworthy over the years and seen pictures of what seemed to be an idyllic village, so I was keen to go there and see if it lived up to its billing as `one of the loveliest villages in England.`

I was not disappointed.   As my photo above shows, it sits on its hillside overlooking a patchwork valley with the great looming presence of Dunkery Beacon beyond.   The village itself, clustered around a verdant village green, consists of just seven old cottages with thatched roofs, latticed windows and gabled porches and was built in 1828 by Sir Thomas Acland as something of a model village to provide housing for the elderly and infirm of his Holnicote Estate.   We were fortunate to be there on a late summer evening with very few people around - a situation that might be quite unusual.

We struggled up through the nearby woods and out onto the open moor to reach Selworthy Beacon and enjoy spectacular views across to the Welsh coast.   If there was a downside to our week, it might have been the stress caused to this hapless driver in negotiating the perilous coastal single track lanes around Woody Bay with a 400 foot drop on one side guarded only by a flimsy fence; and also chancing my arm driving across a very narrow packhorse bridge at Brendon, which I thought halfway across I shouldn`t be attempting, but rather I should be using the adjoining ford.  You live and learn.

Anyway, it`s good to be home again and I suspect that my re-entry from the kind of escapism that last week brought will make it difficult to get back to my `usual` hard edged blogging.   Just give me a day or two to get back in to the `real world.`  It is real, isn`t it?

TWO SIDES..

I get the feeling we`re being softened up by the BBC.  In the last few days and weeks I`ve noticed a concentration of effort in their reporting of issues such as the `migrant crisis.` For example, yesterday we heard the scale of net migration to the UK for the past year - 330,000 is the figure quoted - and they`re just the ones the Government knows about. The BBC`s report suggets, however, that this is a good thing because, according to worthies such as the Institute of Directors, without people coming to work here our economy would collapse.

Other representatives of industry and commerce are peddling the same message - the chap who runs recruitment for the NHS says that nurses should be allowed to come and work here unfettered by restrictive rules because, without them, the care of the elderly and patients in hospital cannot be sustained.

I`ve noticed too that the BBC reports from the Serbia/Hungary border, from Kos, Calais and other key migrant destinations all seem to pull at the heartstrings by emphasising the plight of the migrants  and the awful conditions they find themselves in as they are determined to start a new life in the northern states of Europe.  

Now I do not deny that there`s a problem - a crisis even - and on a human level I have great sympathy for those forced to flee war torn countries and find a better life for themselves.  But there are two sides to every story, of course, and I am still waiting for the BBC to tell us (as if we didn`t know already) what the other side of the coin looks like.

Seems to me the BBC news and current affairs output is institutionally left leaning and thus not fulfilling its duty to be impartial and report a wider, balanced context on most of the big issues of the day.   I quite expect them to come out, quietly but determinedly, and start softening us up for the next great debate - Britain`s relationship with the EU. 

And it may have started already with the BBC recent report that one of the bigwigs running the TATA Steel Group assuring their reporter that Britain voting to leave the EU will be disastrous as we rely so much on the benefits of the common market.  Excuse me, but all those decade ago we agreed ot join the Common Market rather than the Superstate the EU is fast becoming.   I wonder if, one day, the BBC will put the counter argument.

Watch this space.......

Despite the cartoon, I absolutely promise that I am not about to make light of what has been a truly terrible event. The air accident near Shoreham in Sussex last weekend has claimed the lives of eleven innocent people and left families, friends and the nearby community completely numb.

I have noticed more and more that, in these modern times we live in, tragedies like that give rise to a welter of messages of sympathy largely expressed through what is laughingly described as `social media.`.  So too do the passing of certain people, mainly `celebrities` but also the passing of `ordinary folk.`  For my sins, I do belong to a couple of internet forums, Facebook pages, things like that and I`ve noticed that, as soon as tragedy arrives, there are instantaneous messages from complete strangers.  Quite often they say no more than `RIP.`   And I just wonder whether their motives are borne out of genuine sympathy or perhaps from a desire to be seen to be saying something and thus making themselves feel better. 

If the latter, then it amounts to little more than attention being sought.  At which point it becomes glib, superficial, inadequate, self-indulgent even.  But you can be absolutely certain that when I express my own deepest sympathies to the victims of this terrible event, I do so with genuine feelings for them, their loved ones and all those who have been - and continue to be - caught up in it.   

Just be wary of those who were on the cartoon`s sales course.   And sometimes just saying `RIP` simply won`t do.

MY HEART SINKS..

Just read that Jermain Defoe is going to pay someone £60,000 a year to carry out a range of menial tasks that he can`t be bothered to do for himself.  That`s about what Defoe gets in about three days.   Then the sullen egotist rumoured to manage Chelsea is complaining about his captain, John (the leg-end) Terry, being sent off in the weekend`s game, although this is the same Terry fighting to retain his place in the starting line-up and seemingly going out of fashion for Morinho.

I then heard that Manchester United, not content with unsettling Saints` very own pacey flanker, Sadio Mane, and snaffling Saints` defensive midfielder Morgan Schneiderlin, are reportedly to offer £240million for Brazilian international Neymar if they can`t prize ex-Saint Gareth Bale away from Real Madrid.  The arrogance is breathtaking but sadly typical for them.  At the last count, Neymar became the 103rd player linked with a move to Old Trafford in this transfer window so it`s entirely possible that he won`t get a game.

It all adds to the nonsense, the unthinking excess, the pantomime fantasy world of the self-styled Best League in the World (tm) and I begin to wonder for how long it can be sustained before genuine supporters, purchasers of razor blades and television subscribers have had enough.

And to cap it all, the BBC have recruited `Big` Sam Allardyce, who has all the charm of a charging rhinoceros, to give us the benefit if his neolithic insights as a pundit on Match of the Day.   The Premier League has only been going for a couple of weeks and already it`s no wonder that my heart sinks.

A CHANGEABLE OUTLOOK..

The picture shows BBC weather lady, Carol Kirkwood, either hearing the news that she has been pitchforked into Strictly Come Dancing or that the Met. Office have lost the contract to supply weather forecasts to the BBC.  Instead, the BBC are putting the service out to tender with a hint of delicious irony.  They claim that the move is being made so as to guarantee `value for money` which would be fine, were it not for the fact that they have more management layers than you would find in a mille feuille as well as high altitude salaries and expenses both internally and to `talent.`

Now if they are genuine in their search for `value for money` for the licence payers, maybe they should look at other areas than might be ripe for tendering.   For example, the burgeoning number of regional programmes - both TV and radio.  At the last count there were 15 separate regional television stations in England alone and an extraordinary 48 local BBC radio stations.   

Now I must confess to watching about three of the 15 TV stations - South East Today, `cos that`s where I live;  South Today to keep tabs on Southampton FC; and BBC Spotlight, the regional channel for the south west, where I have vested interests.  And I`ve noticed that they all have their cast of news and weather presenters, their Political Editors, their Environment correspondents; Sports sections, Social Affairs persons, Education correspondents and on and on it goes - they all seem to mirror the main BBC News channels, so I guess the whole of the BBC News output could do with some `value for money` examination.

It will be interesting to see what the change from Met Office forecasts brings.  I imagine the weather itself will be whatever it will be, but the presentation might be very different.  I can see announcements such as, "And now for the weather, brought to you by Ryan Airways."    Or the next spell of cold and frosty weather will be sponsored by Snuggles Duvets.  

As for Carol and her chums, well there are loads of them scattered across the 15 regional channels as well as in Salford and I wish them no harm in this process, but there is always Strictly Come Dancing, The Voice, Britain`s Got Talent, Bargain Hunt and Big Brother to turn to.  

AND THEN THERE WAS ONE..

1948 looms large in the depths of my memory.  War had not long ended, rationing was still in force, the winter before had been one of the longest, coldest and snowiest even on the south coast of England.   I was nine years old and in those pre-television days (for us at least) my boyhood heroes were captured through newspapers and the good old fashioned steam radio.   And in the 1948 cricket season there was no shortage of heroes; only problem was that most of them were Australian.

The picture shows `Bradman`s Invincibles,` who toured England in 1948 and were arguably the strongest, most complete cricket team ever. And even if you make allowances for England having staggered out of wartime, the Aussie touring team of that year not only beat all before them but, in some cases, played a completely different game to their hapless opponents. 

Perhaps the best illustration is their annihilation of the Essex team at Southend in May of that year.   Batting first, the Australians scored 721 runs in a day (Brown 153; Bradman 187; Loxton 120; Saggers 104....and on and on it went.)  In reply, Essex were all out for 83 in their first innings (Toshack 5-31) and all out for 187 in the second (Johnson 6-37.) There were two notable absentees from the Australian team that day - one playing, the other not.   The playing absentee was Keith Miller who, witnessing the carnage all around him and wanting no part of it, lifted his bat from the first straight ball he received and was bowled without troubling the scorers. 

The other, real absentee that day was Arthur Morris and I was saddened to learn that he died a couple of days ago at the age of 93, marked by the current Australian team wearing black armbands at The Oval Test.  Arthur (they had names like Arthur in those days) was a key member of the Australian team and one of his country`s finest opening batsmen, scoring 3,533 runs in 46 Tests, averaging 46.48.   He was the leading run scorer on the 1948 tour, and scored 196 in the final Test at The Oval - his innings being overshadowed by Bradman`s duck in his farewell innings, thus denying himself the remarkable feat of retiring with a Test Match average of 100.

And so another of the Invincibles  has left us and now there is only Neil Harvey, at the age of 86, remaining from that 1948 touring party.   And whilst it marks the departure of yet another of my boyhood heroes, it also brings back lingering, wistful memories of that year and those far away formative times.  It was, of course, a different age, a time of real austerity, a time when nine year old boys growing up in a small village learned respect and where acceptable boundaries were clearly defined.   Arthur Morris was universally respected not just for his cricketing prowess but also for simply being a  true gentleman of the game of cricket and the game of life.  And even though England have regained the Ashes, it would be remiss not to pay tribute to one of the Australian heroes of the past.   

MUST TRY HARDER...

I admit to knowing very little about politics and I have never joined any political party; neither am I likely to with the possible exception of the Football Party or, at a push, Mebyon Kernow.   But it`s hard not to get interested in the contest for the leadership of what`s left of the Labour Party.  I suspect that what troubles me most about it - and which we keep hearing - is that whoever wins will lead Her Majesty`s Loyal Opposition in Parliament and, as such and in theory at least, become a potential Prime Minister.

So, what are the choices?  Well, taking them in the order of the photo above, first there`s Liz Kendall.  She seems very well educated (Queens College, Cambridge and all that) and has five years experience as an MP.  Seems a nice lady but I`m left, unfairly I`m sure, with the impression that she should be back at home doing the ironing rather than pursuing the self delusion that one day she might be Prime Minister.  Maybe it`s significant that until the recent General Election she was `in a relationship` with a Welsh stand up comedian.

Yvette Cooper worries me.  She is really Mrs. Balls but chooses not to use her married name, presumably in a desperate attempt to distance herself, at least professionally, from Ed Balls, recent shadow Chancellor and who can blame her?.   Yvette is desperately intense and, despite her Cambridge and Harvard education, gives the impression of a startled chicken caught in the headlights of her own self importance.  

There`s a lot of angst about the prospect of Jeremy Corbyn actually winning the leadership contest.  There`s almost panic in the air that a democratic process might produce the wrong result but I get the feeling that at least he is perfectly genuine and consistent in his beliefs and maybe that`s what scares the pants off his opponents who may find such qualities to be quite alien.

Andy Burnham seems to be the ultimate chancer - involved in so many things, so many causes, so many populist campaigns that it`s difficult to detect whether he really stands for anything in particular or simply blows with the wind - "happy to have Jeremy in my team," he says..   Anyway, he`s an Everton fan and I don`t like Everton, who stuffed the Saints 3-0 on Saturday.

So it`s all a bit depressing really, especially when we need a good, strong, credible Opposition to provide a serious counterpoint to the rampant Tory Government.  I`m not sure we`ll get that with any of the candidates on offer.  Must try harder.

NOT JUST ME THEN...

Had a late night staying up to watch the end of the PGA Golf Championship from somewhere called Whistling Straits in Wisconsin.   It was eventually won by Aussie Jason Day who became the first player in the history of the game to win a major tournament with a score of 20 under par.  Good for him.  And it`s impossible to deny the talent of players like him, their mental toughness, composure under pressure and towering skill overcoming a course that, if golf wasn`t hard enough to begin with, was rather silly for its plethora of bunkers, tight lines and awkward targets.

And whilst all the attention was given to Day, Spieth, Rose and the other contenders for the prize, I found myself perhaps more interested in those players who really did struggle. I know all about struggling round golf courses - I`ve been doing it for years and it doesn`t seem to get any better.   So I`ve trawled the details of the scores returned by all the players who took part in the PGA Championship and found the kind of comfort I can never find by watching the leader board.  

I discovered that amongst those who `failed to make the cut` were two gentlemen who each ended their two rounds on 169 - no less than 25 shots over par.  Alan Morin returned scores of 87 and 82 whilst Ryan B Kennedy notched up a 79 followed by a spectacular 90 which included a 9 on one of the par threes.  I do that quite often.

Now I no nothing of their circumstances but I do think they deserve the thanks and admiration of hackers like me who, to be fair, would jump at the chance of returning scores like that, especially on a course as silly as the one in Wisconsin.   Just once or twice over so many years I have got below 90 which was something of a triumph and so it was encouraging to discover that it`s not just me then.

The quotation above from the sainted Seve just about says it all really.

LIFE BEYOND..

Away from the brouhaha surrounding the spat between a glamorous doctor and a fantasist football manager and away too from the nonsense whereby, at the last count, Manchester United were reportedly interested in signing at least 93 new players, it`s worth spending a moment or two reflecting on life lower down in football`s food chain.

I think I`ve mentioned before that, as well as being a devotee of Southampton FC, I also follow the fortunes - or more often the misfortunes - of teams such as Forest Green Rovers, Maidstone United and especially Truro City, who last season gained promotion to the new National League South, aka Vanarama Conference South.  And last Saturday Truro played at Margate, coming away with a creditable draw.

But what intrigues me are the sheer logistics of playing in this competition both for the players and club officials but particularly for the team`s travelling supporters. There was a supporters bus which left the club ground at Trelew Road at 6.30am, arriving in Margate just in time for kick-off.  The return journey saw this intrepid collection of real fans arrive back in Truro around midnight.   The journey took in the A30, the M4, M25, M26, M20, A249, M2, A229 and the A28.   According to the RAC Route Planner, this journey amounted to 736 miles there and back.

And the figure of 732 above?  Well, that was the number of spectators, including those from Truro, at Margate`s Hartsdown Park to witness this encounter, so if you spaced them out individually along each mile of the route from Truro and back,  there would not quite be enough to stretch the whole way.    Now I know it works, both ways - supporters of Hayes and Yeading Utd. saw their team win at Truro 2-0 on Tuesday evening, which was a 7.45pm kick-off, so goodness knows what time they got back to west London.

So there is life beyond the Premier League and I suspect that it holds perhaps more enjoyment, more passion and more romance than the antics that go on at Stamford Bridge and Old Trafford.

A DOWNHILL STRUGGLE..

What a pleasant scene.  A gentle downhill slope as the road meanders through the Ayrshire countryside.   But all is not what it seems, for this scene has both enchanted and puzzled me for many years.   It`s the Electric Brae, a quarter of a mile stretch of the A719 near to the Scottish town of Ayr and it`s here that the laws of gravity appear to operate in reverse, for what you see in the photo above is, in fact, the road going uphill.

So what`s going on?   How can it be that motorists regularly pull up at this spot, turn off their engines, disengage their handbrakes and marvel as their cars apparently roll uphill? Magnetic fields?  Minerals in the rich coastal soil?  Faeries or some other unknown phenomenon?  Sadly none of these, but rather the fact that whilst the road is on a hill with a gradient of 1 on 86, the surrounding landscape tricks the eye into believing that you are heading downhill when you are actually going uphill or believing that you are going uphill when you are really going down.

The road has baffled travellers from far and wide for years, including General Dwight D. Eisenhower who visited the Brae when staying at Prestwick during the Second World War. And so it`s a shame in a way that science - the scourge of imagination - has come up with the answer.   Here it is:-

Despite which, it`s one of those places I must visit before it`s too late.

SOMETHING NOT QUITE RIGHT..

You feel it in your bones when something doesn`t seem quite right.  There are lots of examples, like the one pictured, but here we are on a glorious day in high summer, England have regained the Ashes in exemplary style and you would think that all is well in my world.

But then along comes football once more after what seems but a week or two since last season ended and already I have the weird, out of time notion that cricket should really be left in peace to play out its season before the madness of the Premier league assails our senses once more.

Well, I said it was a weird notion, one which is most assuredly out of time and which harks back to those days when I would finish playing cricket for the village team one Saturday, a quick mow and a bit of line marking and off we would go and play football the following Saturday - a pattern repeated at all levels of the two games in those halcyon days long, long ago.   But I think what saddens me most is that the imperious victory of the England cricket team is already being overshadowed by the antics of Mr. Scudamore`s all embracing `product.`  And as I write, yet another felony is compounded by the Saints being 2-1 down away at Newcastle. 

UPDATE :   It ended 2-2 although Saints would have won it at the death had Sadio Mane not missed two golden opportunities.  Still, if someone had offered me that before the game I would have bitten their hand off and taken that, to be fair.   But however much the clichés of football`s lexicon return to my consciousness, it`s still not cricket and it still doesn`t feel quite right.

MESMERISING..

Apropos Dave Cameron and his defence of allowing senior civil servants to be overruled by his Ministers, there is the suggestion that he was `mesmerised` by the tantalising persona of one Camila Batmangelidjh, rumoured still to be the founder of the Kids Company charity, into nodding through a series of taxpayer funded grants to keep the charity going. The last one - for £3 million - was nodded through against civil service advice just days before the charity folded.

Now I hesitate to get in any way involved in the kerfuffle that has caused but as one of the aforementioned taxpayers, I might just be interested in how my hard earned cash has been used.   And I really don`t want to stray into the realms of personal criticism, far from it, but I`m beginning to be mesmerised as to how much taxpayers` money has gone towards not only haute couture but also haute cuisine.   And as far as Dave is concerned, I can only conclude that he`s easily mesmerised.

TIME FOR ANOTHER ONE ?

I see that the other day Dave Cameron was asking for a timetable for the publication of the Chilcot Report into the Iraq debacle.  I`ve just about given up with this.  The Iquiry began in 2009 and finished taking witness statements over four years ago, since when progress towards final publication has been thwarted by the process of allowing those who are likely to be criticised in the report to be `consulted.`  

In addition, of course, there has been the ongoing wrangling about whether the details of the Blair/Bush communications in the lead up to the war can be included in Chilcot`s report.  Not so much "Yes, Minister," more "Not sure about that, Minister."  What compounds the litany of felonies is the fact that the Inquiry has so far cost us taxpayers over £10 million and still no sign of any answers.   No wonder Dave is getting annoyed - or so he says - and he has now demanded that Sir John Chilcot comes up with a timetable and a publication date which of itself may take some time to materialise, if indeed it ever does.

Seems to me the only real solution is to have a full Judicial Public Inquiry into why the Chilcot Inquiry is taking so long to finalise its report. That should keep the establishment happy for another few years whilst continuing to prolong the agony of the families who lost loved ones in that abominable misadventure.

FLYING TONIGHT ?

It must be 40 years ago that West Malling Airfield finally closed.  It had had a long and distinguished career as an RAF Air Station and during World War 2 was, for a time, the home of 29 Squadron amongst whose pilots was Guy Gibson, VC, later to become Commanding Officer of 617 Squadron -  the Dam Busters.  He said of West Malling Air Station, "Of all the airfields in Great Britain, we have the finest."

After the War ended the station was used for a time by the United States Navy and various other aircraft related uses until it finally closed as an operational air station in 1963.  Then came the question as to what to do with it.  Various schemes were proposed including use as a prison, a young offenders establishment and a public consultation was held to gain the views of interested parties, not least the local residents.

I remember having to act in a purely private capacity to submit my suggestion for its future use  and it seemed to me that the obvious thing to do with an airfield was to fly aircraft from it.   It didn`t happen, of course, and today the site of West Malling Air Station is home to the Stepford-esque Kings Hill - a mixture of 2,000 houses, retail and business with only the old control tower - now a coffee shop - and a fitting memorial to those RAF days to perpetuate the history of the site.

And so to Manston in east Kent (pictured above), which has been the subject of much panic-stricken recent discussion as to whether it can be used to alleviate the slings and arrows of the outrageous Operation Stack which clogs up the highways of Kent.  Now Manston is another air station with a long and distinguished history arguably more so than that of West Malling.  It includes another reminder of the Dam busters, for it was Manston that Barnes Wallis used as a base for testing his bouncing bomb on the north Kent coast.

But in recent times, since commercial flying ceased to operate from Manston, there has been controversy about its future too and although the Operation Stack proposal is supposed to be temporary and limited, the long term future of the site remains uncertain. If there ever is a public consultation about that, I may be tempted yet again to suggest that the best thing to do with an established airport is to fly planes from it.  Maybe that`s too naive, too obvious, too simple for today`s over-complicated world, but it`s worth a second try.

WAS YOUR JOURNEY REALLY NECESSARY ?..

To Southampton yesterday with my eldest son to see the Saints take on Barcelona`s second football club Espanyol, in the last pre-season `friendly.`

Now here in Kent, for 26 of the last 44 days, we have been pretty much gridlocked thanks to the ongoing Operation Stack, courtesy of striking French seamen and the occasional migrant.   The result has been that we have not dared venture onto the M20 and turn right or have any intention of heading eastwards towards the Kent coast, since the traffic snarl-ups on the alternative roads have been the stuff of nightmares.

So yesterday we left home and turned left, optimistically expecting a carefree, leisurely drive down to Southampton and it was OK until we got near Leatherhead on the M25, from where we crawled and crawled until, in a fit of desperation, I turned off the motorway at Wisley and went down the A31.  Good progress until we reached Guidford - another crawl - and yet another one at Farnham;  but we rejoined the M3 at Winchester and arrived at Southampton`s Town Quay just in time for a quick bite before the walk to St. Mary`s.

We thought the return journey might be better;  after all it`s a summer evening in early August and surely there won `t be that much traffic about.   But we hadn`t bargained for the `long term roadworks` on the M3 all the way from Basingstoke right up to the M25 and we hadn`t expected the logjams on the M25 itself.   So our day was spent mostly on the super highways of southern England, tiresome to the extent that I began to wonder if the journey had really been necessary.

But then again it`s more than a pleasure to go back to my boyhood roots, to retrace the steps of the walk from Town Quay to St. Mary`s Stadium and to experience once more the special feeling of being a lifelong Saints fan.   The game itself was inconsequential, sandwiched between the first and second legs of the Saints Europa League tie against Vitesse Arnhem and the start of the Premier League next weekend, but the highlight was seeing Jay Rodriguez` stunning 25-yard volley to level the scores at 1-1. Especially pleasing for him as he has been out of action for 14 months with a serious knee injury.

So, to answer my own question.  Was the journey really necessary?  Just about.  And I dread the day when I may not be able to make the journey again.