This weekend was remarkably unproductive, and yet I’m actually OK with it for once.
I’d had a lot planned – initially I was going to be going to a restaurant in London, but I moved that forward by a couple of weeks – nothing about Lockdown, just that I saw the menu two weeks ago had some things I really wanted, and they couldn’t be certain they’d still be on by now, so I moved things around.
Once that had changed, I’d then lined up an archery coaching session on the Saturday, and we were due to have a competition shoot on Sunday. However, with the new Lockdown, archery is (for some fuckforsaken reason) specifically included in the “thou shalt not operate” lists, so all of that got cancelled too. I’ve no idea why outdoor archery isn’t allowed – even in competitions, no-one’s even close to each other, and certainly when I’ve been using the range on a Friday it’s just me using it. There’s certainly no issue with any of it being crowded!
So yes, I had lots of plans, and none of them happened – which is frustrating, to say the least.
However, it’s been good to have the downtime. I meant to do some stuff from home, and failed entirely to do so, but instead caught up on some reading, and did stuff that was exceptionally quiet and relaxed. It was pretty good, all things considered.
A couple of weeks ago I wrote about sport, and how we seemed to be having a surfeit of it this summer.
Thankfully, We’ve finally finished with the Kickyball World Cup (although I believe it’s less than a month ’til the next season starts off, FFS), and the Wimbledon Smashyball stuff, and the British Grand Prix is over and done with too.
The Tour de France is still ongoing (thanks, Gordon, for reminding me that this was on too) although that’s a lot more tolerable than the others – if nothing else, I still find myself in awe of the people who can ride 100+km in a day up idiot mountains and so on, and still do a sprint finish…
Anyway, it’s nice to just have fewer sporty-ball things on TV for a few weeks, at least. Happy, happy day.
So not only do we have World Cup kickyball, cricket and rugby gubbins going on, but as of today we’ve got Wimble-bloody-don as well?!?
I give up.
Every year it boggles my mind that this weekend seems to be All The Sport – due to some epic scheduling, we always end up having the finals of Wimbledon on the same day as the British Grand Prix.
This year, we’ve also got the finals of Euro 2016, just in case we didn’t have enough bloody sport to contend with already.
Not that I care (in case you hadn’t guessed) as I won’t be watching any of it.
But seriously, how much organisation and planning does it take, to get three major sporting events to all climax/happen on the same damn day?
I’m not a massive fan of Sport Relief – although I do prefer it to shite like Comic Relief and Children-in-Need – but regardless of any of that, I have to say that Eddie Izzard’s achievement of running 27 marathons in 27 days (including two on the final day, as he’d missed one early on) is nothing short of amazing.
That he’s also raised more than £1.35million is also seriously noteworthy.
That’s not to belittle the fundraising efforts of anyone else, as I’d rather see anyone raise £50 than nothing. Regardless though, the sheer madness of saying “I’m going to run 27 marathons in four weeks” – and then manage to do it – is a gobsmacking and noteworthy effort.
As regular readers know, I couldn’t give a monkey’s chuff about football in general. It’s not something I follow, or am really interested in at all, and I’d rather shit in my hands and clap than go to a game.
However, I still listen to the news etc., and I have to ask – what the hell is going on with the Premier League this year?
At the time of writing, Leicester are top of the Premier League, Bournemouth beat Manchester United over the weekend, and Chelsea are hanging just above relegation. What the fuck?
I know it’s only a game, and thus hostage to the vagaries of luck and chance, but that’s still a pretty radical year, all things considered.
[Note : As always, I don’t actually give a shit about sport/cricket – I’m more interested in the mindset beneath it in this case]
Over the last couple of days, the news has been full of bloody Kevin Pietersen throwing a strop about not being allowed – yet – back into playing cricket for England.
Apparently a while back it was…
suggest[ed he] could add to his 104 England caps if he joined a county and scored enough runs to merit a recall.
(Quote from the BBC story)
Pietersen did this, and fair play to him. Earlier this week, he scored a personal best innings, something like 350 not out. So he’s assumed that on that one showing, he should be allowed back into the England team.
He met Andrew Strauss – the new ‘director of cricket’, apparently – who said there was no chance this summer, and that some people didn’t trust Pietersen. Which is also fair – Pietersen’s always been an asshat.
But now he’s thrown his toys out the pram about it, and has written about how he feels ‘deceived’ and so on in his column in the Telegraph.
Really, all it seems like is a whining brat. Yes, he’s done what was asked, and had one excellent innings. But that doesn’t make a team player, and doesn’t mean he has to be immediately accepted as part of the England team.
Indeed, if anything is now going to make sure he doesn’t get back in, I’d say it’s his own behaviour in this. (Of course, he won’t see it like that, because he’s perfect and no-one else is. Rah rah rah. Standard asshat behaviour) I would’ve said he might have a chance if he continues to excel at county level – the same criteria as could be applied to any other up-and-coming player.
But really, how can you trust anyone who throws their toys out like this at any opportunity? When they decide to destroy their own chances and credibility, in a fit that looks more like the act of a stropping toddler kicking their feet and screaming in a supermarket than one of someone wanting to play for – and thus represent – a country’s cricket team?