Good save

Actually, not “good save”. “Good” doesn’t do it justice. Any adjectives which would do it justice would have to be conjoined with a swearword.

But then if you were doing about 150mph (241kph) between two very solid looking dry stone walls on a chunk of metal whose only contact with the ground is about a handprint’s worth of rubber, and you had a wobble like this:

…then, in my opinion, the use of any swearwords – copiously and vociferously – is entirely justified. James Hillier (for it are he) went on to finish 4th in the Senior TT (which is what this was).

I know that your time is valuable, but the whole video is only 33 seconds long, so DO keep watching for the slo-mo. Oh, my goodness.

Wendy play-off defeat

Late last night, in a godforsaken corner of the Steel City, and after a season of blood, sweat, toil and tears, Sheffield Wednesday’s play-off dreams were ended in exceptionally cruel fashion as they were beaten on penalties in the pouring rain, right in front of their own Kop.

True Wednesday fans will know that I have been in their position and that I know exactly what it feels like. The pain, the distress, the the heartbreaking effect of suddenly broken dreams.
They’ll also be aware that I’m unable to feel any sympathy for them, both contractually and because I actually find it quite funny. And I’d expect nothing less from them should the situation be reversed.

Experts told us that it was never meant to be this way.

and…

But it turns out that the experts were wrong.

The sun is shining, the birds are singing.
What a wonderful day it is today.

Bus trip

My Dad has really gone to town this evening. Along with a few other United fans.

They’re all there to see the team – Champions of League One – arrive at their reception at the Town Hall.

And here are the lads on the bus from Beautiful Downtown Bramall Lane.

I’m sure that videos and better pics will follow, but all reports thus far indicate that the team (and the manager) may have had a couple of beers in the way up. Oops.

One of those nights that I’d love to be back home – that home. But then, the red wine here is so much better.

A day

It was a day. Some stuff went well, some stuff didn’t. And that was the case even if stuff got sub-catagorised: for example, bits of the football were good, others not. And now I’m watching Chelsea and Spurs kicking chunks out of each other.

It ended – the day, not the FA Cup semi final – with me wandering around in the dark, barefoot, 200 metres around the corner up the road from our house, chasing an UberEats driver who had already taken 35 minutes to do a 5 minute trip. Guess how nice our food was?

The UberEats experience didn’t have a positive side.

Tomorrow will also be a day. Hopefully with less UberEats and more happy bits.

Golf

Golf. Sport of Kings. Or is that Polo? Whatever, I’m not a fan of golf.
Golf is dull.

Fans of golf – you know who you are – will tell you that it’s not dull. They’ll tell you about that exciting finish to the Ryder Cup in 2012 or some such, and yes, perhaps for that putt, we all held our collective breaths, at least briefly. But it took us four days of repeated five hour games of golf to get there! Dull.

And then there’s the fact that if you want to play some golf, you basically have to schedule most of a day for it. It’s not an hour’s footy, or a 30 minute run round the block. It’s most of a day.
Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Still, I just think that golf is dull. Brian Micklethwait feels slightly more strongly than that:

I still hate and fear golf.

A little more digging (I clicked a link) reveals that it seems to be the same issue with the length of time the whole process takes that’s the root of his hatred and fearfulness:

I remember once having a go at it, when I was at my expensive public school in the middle of the last century.  I still remember hitting one golf ball really sweetly and deciding, right then and there, that I would never do this again, because if I did, there was a definite danger that golf would take over my entire life.  And I wasn’t having that.

Brian does like cricket though, including test cricket, which for me falls into the same “occasionally a really exciting last few minutes but to be fair it took things an awfully long time to get there” category as golf.

The difference is that cricket has noticed this issue and adapted with one dayers and T20s. Horrible for the purists, but key in saving the sport.
Golf, though? Golf has only just agreed to let women be members at its most famous clubs (although they’re not allowed to change there).

So golf is actually old-fashioned, sexist and dull. And it takes ages.

No, thank you.