Posts from 30th September 2003

Sep 03

The push for promotion.

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The push for promotion.

Today I was promoted. This good news was conveyed to me by the Big Boss in our department. I work with my back turned to the room and he padded up behind me just as I was looking at the Charlton Atheltic Women’s Football Club Site, which was a tiny touch embarrassing.

Looks like CAWAFC is the place to be right now, though. My belief that football should be played with a hostile snarl on its face is well-documented, and I think it may have found a new home. The Guardian report of their match against Doncaster Belles suggests that they know how to play the game hard, and not in the playground push-and-shove Arsenal ‘ Man U way which caused so much ridiculous recent hand-wringing. Rather, a 22-player scrap, headbutts, the works.

The return fixture in the middle of November looks like it might be a plum tie to start watching the women’s game. Bromley here we come!

Adam Hart-Davies is not the first person you would expect to find on a sports blog

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Adam Hart-Davies is not the first person you would expect to find on a sports blog. Unless you take recreational cycling in flurorescent shorts meant for someone twenty years your junior as a sport. Nevertheless, last night (late, post pub) there was a chopped up segment on his programme What The Victorians Did For Us. And last night what they did for us was invent sport.

The sports highlighted were the Eton Wall Game, tennis and football – which was called soccer much to my wincing. I am not so sure of the direct line from the Eton Wall Game to the invention of football, the reasoning was that public school games were so parochial and rubbish that an association (look out, we’ll see that word again) of ex students got together and invented rules. Now I can see why the Eton Wall Game got on people’s nerves, it is basically a big ruck against a brick wall, where liberal sanding of an opponents face agin the mortar is perfectly legal. But this posh reclamation of what is fundamentally one of the simplest games invented by man tries to give football proper gentlemanly rules. What about those big games that take over entire towns up north and are really useful for Newsround to lead with when the lead item in the Six O’Clock News is a particularly nasty kiddie murder?

As entertaining as Hart-Davies loony uncle inventor act is, he did not convince me that tennis was invented because suddenly we had machines that could flatten grass and rubber balls. There was far too much faith in invention causation. People fanny around, even in sports. The Victorians weren’t sitting on their arse in Wimbledon waiting for a rubber ball and a roller to be invented. No, they were playing croquet – a game which is a lot more fun to play than tennis if you ask me.

CRISP PACKET COPY 1: Pickled Onion Space Raiders

Pumpkin Publog5 comments • 2,265 views

CRISP PACKET COPY 1: Pickled Onion Space Raiders

They came…. From the darkest depths of the uncharted cosmos….
The Space Raiders.
Brightly coloured, bug-eyed, bad guys with really big brains and easily enough alien technology to take over our planet. The only thing that can stop the Space Raiders imminent invasion of earth is the sound of munchin’ crunchin’ snacks!
So finish off this pack and go get another …before it’s too late!!

(Just an aside, imagine if you will the ignomity of being beaten merely because you cannot stand the sound of people eating crisps. And then think that the crisp used against you most is a cheap, 10p corn snack deliberately made in your image to taunt you. If I were an alien it would drive me nuts.)

Alien fun facts:- Alien Abductions
Many people claim to have been abducted by aliens. This is a myth – space Raiders only abduct cats. They make them really fluffy, put little aliens inside their heads and then send them back to earth to spy on us…we call them Persian cats. You’ll never see a fluffy Persian cat eating Space Raider snacks.

The art of the afternoon lock-in

Pumpkin PublogPost a comment • 437 views

I wasn’t really old enough to enjoy the illicit thrill of the afternoon lock-in, but I think myself and Mr Hopkins may have discovered the closest remaining version over the weekend.

Trying to be good boys and do something constructive with our Saturday afternoon we had visited a couple of galleries in h*xton and then headed out towards The Chisenhale. However, having waited some time for the bus, by the time we got there I was dying for a pee, so a swift half was called for.

We ducked into the first boozer we came across, The Young Prince, a slightly forbidding looking shop-front type place, a long narrow pub, with no windows except those at the front and not much in the way of ambient lighting. Having relieved myself we sat down to find that the pub was showing the Leicester v Man U match on hooky Spanish satellite telly (for those of you not from the UK, pretty much the only time it is impossible to watch football here is between 3 and 5 on a Saturday afternoon as the authorities fear that if it is shown then (the traditional kick-off time) no one will go to real live matches), and the combination of this dark, unknown (although by no means unfriendly) and fairly empty boozer in a different part of town and the Spanish commentary on the football did give a certain frisson to the afternoon, and, somewhat inevitably, we didn’t get to any more art.