Otherwise Occupied...

I may have made a mistake.
The other day I scrutinised the games still to be played and splashed out £30 on a 'Now TV' 'Sky Sports Pass.'  This enables me to see Sky Football coverage on the laptop.  Now as I also have BTS for Scottish football this enabled me to view more than the occasional match.  
Since then I have viewed quite a few.
Yesterday I watched three games and did almost nothing else.
Today I escaped from church a wee bit earlier than I wished, cadged a lift from a young woman and arrived home in time for the Edinburgh derby at 12:15.  This was better than last weeks wimpish offering and questions must be asked why Hibs players are so well liked by referees.  But I'm not one to complain...
After this, while preparing a burnt offering which may be with me for ever, I watched a bit of Burnley v Manchester City, this was disappointing after the proper football from Easter Road and soon I turned on to the Rangers v Aberdeen game where another showing of Glasgow Rangers bias enabled the blue bigots to win by two penalties to none.  Mr Defoe must wonder what he has to do to be sent off!  He not only handled the ball twice he also clouted the goalie and then feigned injury. The ref did not see a blatant assault ten yards ahead of him!
What is more is for the first time I realised that the referee, Don Robertson, is in fact now a FIFA registered ref.  Apart from a friendship with Jim Fleming who heads up Scots refs how on earth did this man get to that level? 
I then caught the second half of the rather poor English offering, Manchester United v Chelsea, a somewhat meaningless game after the first one I had watched.  This contained little emotion and less football but a lot more money.
I considered watching the MLS game from the US after this but wondered if maybe I was becoming hooked on this SKY lark?  As I look around I note lots of empty and half empty cough bottles, rubbish lying around, papers unread, mail unopened, dishes unwashed.  Could it be I need to switch off for a while?  
Surely not... 

 

Copycat Hypocrisy

Friday night, when Rangers James Tavernier went to take a 'throw in,' while playing Hibernian at the Hibs ground in Leith, a helpful young individual ran down the steps from amongst the home support, jumped the wall taking the security man by surprise, and helpfully kicked the ball at Mr Tavernier.  Mr Taverneir  was somewhat surprised by this, this was the first time anyone from the Hibernian persuasion had actually made an attempt to take the ball from him!  This individual was immediately restrained by the displeased security man and two keen constabuls and 'assisted from the ground.'  
Such things occur at football matches. 
The media immediately jumped into 'offended' mode. 
The cry was 'protect the ball players' from all side.  Ban the thug from football, jail him and throw the key away.  Set an example of Hibernian, close the ground, fine the club, hang the chairman!  All Scots papers, and one or two sections of the English media also, jumped in eyes closed with a froth of disgust at the horrid event.
None mentioned the sectarian singing emanating from the Rangers fans in the ground, none the broken seats thrown onto the pitch, none the coins and cup flung also in the direction of Hibs players.  The media you see make money, clickbait style, out of the Glasgow bigots.
Today the Glasgow press continue their one sided approach to the matter all the while ignoring the wrongs at their club.  Individual fans from both clubs, and others also, contribute a 'thoughtful' opinion on the deed while always ignoring their own sin and concentrating on the others.  
Thoughtful debate is not the correct term here.
Saturday arrives, somewhere in Birmingham tow local English sides meet in a 'derby' encounter.  The usual name calling and unhelpful suggestions are offered to either side by the supporters.  One of the Aston Villa team, the visiting side, went to take position and a copycat eejit ran onto the field and helpfully fetched him one across the back of the head.  The player helpfully fell down while others from both sides plus security came to his assistance.  In both cases the performance of the players was unharmed, Taverneir continued to blunder as he had done all game, the Villa player scored the winning goal.  Both the visiting individuals will appear in court, indeed the chap from Birmingham has just begun a 14 weeks imprisonment sentence, and will pay £100 compensation to the man he assaulted.  14 weeks sounds rather short, in wrath remember mercy but the type of individual who does this may well be used to prison and short sentences may not deter!  For this individual it will but what about others.  I await news of the Hibernian eejit.  
A third incident occurred at Arsenals large ground on Saturday when a like minded copycat squared up to a Manchester United player.  This did not wake the player up and led to this eejit being removed, I suspect his name will appear in the magistrates list shortly.
These three are like many noticed on the Essex Police Twitter account, they tend not to be the brightest, even though they often have decent jobs, their outlook on life is limited and with the chap of Hibernian persuasion I wonder of drugs played a part.  He did not look like he would one day appear on 'Mastermind' or reach a high level of intelectual ability.  He after all supports Hibernian and appears to be a fan of the 'trainspotting' generation.  Or does he?  Is he what is called a 'real fan' or just one who tags along with his mates because they go their and saw this as an excuse to keep in with them?   
After all we all do daft things when young...        
The copycat media have been joined by the copycat self important in football jumping in to condemn such actions.  It is head shaking all around, exaggerated claims that "Knives might be used next" and a wide variety of absurd answers to the question how to stop it, armed police  as one man suggested might be going to far at this juncture!  The great and the good condemn, but forget the many other incidents now forgotten that had less publicity as they were not in the public eye or involved smaller sides.  Glasgow clubs always offer a wide selection of offensive behaviour but rarely this appears in print.  The Birmingham featured clashes before the game but with no pictures we hear little.  Yet whenever a story fills the screen there is faux condemnation, 'tut tutting' aplenty and as always in the end nothing is done.  All clubs will improve security, all will say the right words and all others will then seek the next thing to be offended by.
Oh one other thing, if payers get into a 20 man stramash with fists flying and heads bumping why is this referred to as 'handbags?'  If clubs and players took some responsibility for their actions maybe we would not see these numpties clambering over the wall to attack players...just a thought.

Update:  Our hero in Leith has indeed made an appearance in court.  He has been banned from all football grounds in Scotland while he awaits the final sentence which will be handed down next month.  I hope he likes prison...
 

Bored Saturday

Bored! 
Cold and gray, and so is the weather, so I sat in waiting for the postman bringing a book.  This book is for another but would be too big for the letterbox, so I waited.  Checking later I found a card telling me he had left it at another flat!  I was in!  Why not knock loud?  Bah!!!  This is a good postman, I wonder what the bad would do?  Tsk!
Having stored the book I checked the football.  Manchester United squad players against failing Reading, this will be good eh?  No it was not, as expected Man Utd won easily.  Now I watch Blackpool, with a detested chairman who's fans refuse to enter the ground.  Therefore their poor team is against Arsenals squad players who ought to win easily with their fans outnumbering the home crowd.  The rich maniac who owns the club sits above watching while the club falls apart.  Why do the authorities allow such situations to develop?  As expected the game is a s dull as my day.

However while printing a leaflet I discovered I had no black ink left.  The ink world is a con!  Having bought on the cheap several twinned packs off Black ink and coloured ink I now find I have three coloured inks lying awaiting a place and no black!  This led to venturing out into the chill wind.  
As I passed the Congregational Church I noticed the door slightly ajar.  This was interesting!  Rare to see the door ajar at any time so I took a look around the outside to check if someone was working there, none to be seen, just as I was debating entering the ministers wife, who I know, came out.  This saved me from entering seeking burglars and instead finding and chatting to for a while the leaders of this now small congregation.
Having worked there for over 20 years the man has built up a decent congregation, sadly of aged people, most of these have now dropped off and only a handful remain.  This is sad as the church grew out of the 1600's puritan revival and started in a barn a hundred yards up the road despite opposition from Charles the first who demanded people attend the parish church.  Many were threatened with jail, many fled to the new world, others remained until Charles II allowed them some degree of freedom.  A building has stood here for around three hundred years even allowing for half the congregation to leave and begin anew Baptist church over the road.  This large building, dim with n lights on when I was in there, is an ideal church building.  Pews sit at a circular angle facing the front and having always been well kept it appears old but (apart from heating) is ideal for proper church services.  It would be a great shame if such a church were to die after so long a witness.  However almost all churches in the town are decent ones, the younger element do not like the style of service, and the minister and his wife at 77 years of age will not be changing that any time soon.  All this means appropriate persons have other churches to join and this one suffers now. This rubbish football is more interesting but the result is clear...

Sunday Blether

Being stuck indoors while avoiding food adverts on TV I realise once again just how poor TV is at the weekend.  It is bad enough during the week but at weekends it actually gets worse!  To fill the schedule many channels are filled with just one programme with 20 or so episodes churned out all day then repeated.  What fun to watch a whole day of 'Can't Pay? We'll Take it Away,' or 'The Big Bang Theory,' or 'Monkey Life.'  The last I suggest the inside story of TV producers working on ideas to fill their screens.  There is the occasional sporting event to be found, a documentary that has only been seen seven times before might brighten the day and watching the news channels struggling to make headlines out of nothing more than local news is a bit of a giggle.  
However even if we have the iPlayer and other channels repeat opportunities it is a poor show that weekend TV is just awful.  I realise there are videos, DVDs and such that entertain many but surely there is better available at the weekend than this pap?

I remained indoors today pleading weakness from not eating yesterday.  Some would suggest the weakness was there already and I fail to find an argument fitting to that one.  The annoying thing is that I did have a decent exercise the other day and was looking to more of same to come.  Each time I start exercising something goes wrong.  I think I am meant to be a fat slob!  With the Rugby League Cup game on at the moment, something I rarely watch but the only thing worth having on, I look at the players and the men on the bench and note that while I am of similar weight to them they are bristling with muscle and none possess a beer belly.  From what I see of the fans few of them are so endowed.  Maybe I should take up the game?  
In the 1860's football fell into two parts, the game had been played for years, hundreds of years in one manner or another, but then there came the 'Toffs' who agreed an accepted form of rules the Laws of which form the basis still today.  Most were happy to play this form of 'Association Football' but some, Blackheath amongst them, felt that not being allowed to 'hack' failed in so far it stopped men learning to 'take it' and play on with a 'stiff upper lip.'  They chose to join the handling game which became 'Rugby Football.'  Until the later days of the century many did not get a Saturday afternoon off work, however some ceased work around lunchtime.  This meant that men playing either game lost money by taking time off, money they could not afford to lose.  Fine for the 'toffs' who had plenty but men required cash and payments soon began to be paid to players 'under the counter.'  This upset the middle classes who did not require payment and many who honestly thought of sport as an amateur enjoyment not a paid profession, trouble soon erupted.  By the end of the century football came to accept players being paid, many until then were signed by clubs and given jobs close by, whether they did much work other than play football is uncertain.  That system continued long after professionalism was legal but it was used to increase players wages.  In Rugby however a different attitude arose.  The class system caused the middle classes to become jealous that the common types were taking to football and so strenuous efforts were made to ensure Rugby did not tolerate players being paid.  Up north however rugby players required cash and soon Rugby Union for the middle classes became separate from Rugby League run by and for the Working Classes.  A sad day but one the middle classes held onto for many years.  Only in the last thirty years has rugby in the UK accepted payment much to the detriment of many local clubs.  In Scotland there exists only two senior rugby union cubs, Edinburgh and Glasgow, all the clubs that reared the famous faces in the past are regarded as small fry.  The same is true in England where many known names have been reduced to a whimper.
Football benefited from payments even though much mishandling by football authorities and boards was to be seen along the way.  Today some areas are awash with cash and while huge clubs get bigger the smaller, and in my view the 'real' clubs are suffering hanging on the coat tails.  Money is a good thing when used to benefit all, alas we are all sinners and far too much is abused by all.

  

Football Commentators

I spent much of this afternoon grumbling about a football commentator.  This is not unusual.  These men, it ought never to be a woman, these men spend much time gathering useless information about the people involved in the game and then fill the time spouting this dross throughout as if they are attempting to appear knowledgeable about the game.  This does not work!  When a goal is scored I have no interest in being told that this is the first goal the man has scored since September when he scored against blah blah blah!  Tell me about the goal he scored today!  There is no need to inform us that this player or that once played for Manchester United's under 16 side, almost a million young men did so and only seven made it to the top!  I have no interest in the man's private life, his wage nor the seven clubs that 'may' be chasing him as most of this information is pure guesswork or straight forward lies from the hacks.  Just explain the game to us.  Explain the tactics, why are they playing 'three at the back' and not 'four?'  Explain why the opposition do not play 'two up front' and as the game progresses explain also why the co-commentator with twelve years experience at the top level cannot explain the tactics other than saying "He went for it, got his head to it, but put it over," in similar manner which thousands of us at home could happily do for half the money!   
I often watch games on BBC ALBA, this is great because the commentator speak Gaelic and I understand nothing of what he says thereby allowing me to watch the game almost undisturbed.  Now I have an idea, I have found a stream that in amongst the dubious adverts and malware offers me football coverage, of dubious quality, that uses no commentator!  This is brilliant as the crowd noise is heard but there is no constant whine of needless chat from someone who considers his voice more important than the game.  Let the TV people give us the chance to watch a game without commentators for a while, see how much they can save and how our ears will benefit. 
I look forward to the day.

Chilly Meeting

Some men love having a son, they can do so much with this heart treasure, they look forward to the day their son becomes something of worth such as a great footballer, this however costs.  On Sunday I passed the park where the local non-league teams under 7's were playing (I guess the age from their appearance).  On either side of the pitch stood a motley collection of persons slowly freezing to death while their son began the ten year slog to make it to the top. Wrapped in their winter best they cheered, clapped and encouraged within the limits of the rules, too much interference causes trouble so parents are urged to keep it quiet at this level, and at the same time drank the umpteenth cup of coffee from the stall that cleverly parks itself in the middle of the pitches.  
It amazes me these kids, when we were eight years old we chased the ball as a group, usually around forty of us at school, and had no idea what to do when we got it bar kick it, anywhere!  The guys playing here were well coached, kept to their positions more or less and were learning to kick the ball properly.  On occasions it is clear one or two of these lads will make it high up in years to come, others will drift into park football or drink, drugs or women problems like the majority however, but what fun getting there!  Dad will age slowly while his body succumbs to frostbite in winter and sunburn in summer with little hope of ever seeing his son score the winning goal in a cup final.  He will think at the moment it is however worth it!

Today was museum meeting day.  This can be enlightening, with info on the future exhibitions, shop work, marketing but it can also be worryingly slow if he or she asks that daft question and he is in attendance to answer it slowly and with added repetitions while he or she argues the case meaninglessly to win a point.  Today however the manager was not with us so that saved us thirty minutes!  
Info on the next few exhibitions was offered, talk on what to do with money in the shop, discussion with my suggestions with what to do with suffragettes came to nothing as a dozen women disagreed with my suggestion, there are no railings available either, and so on until  happy group fled the scene leaving the clearing up to the staff.
Back tomorrow to show my cheery welcoming skills to all and sundry, especially the women who will be checking up on the half term holiday activities so they can dump the brats for an hour or so. I expect a lot of phone calls and visits tomorrow regarding that.  Then I will have time to myself, unless I get snowed in of course.

Breathing

What a difference in life when you can breathe!  I slept for hours last night for the first time all week and even visited Sainsburys by 7:30 to avoid crowds and replenish stocks.  I have cleaned the mess and having fallen asleep since I now feel almost human again, almost.
This began a week on Thursday and only today, Saturday, is the worst past.  What a rotten week, it is easier to be ill than suffer Man Flu!  How lucky wimmen are in not getting it.

Having spent the midday watching Hibernian struggle at Hampden, I did not continue to send 'Tweets' to Hibbys asking if they had left by half time as always honest...well OK I did.  How lovely to spend the day breathing while watching football!  The dinner is burning slowly in the background just in time for the six O'clock game of BBC ALBA tonight.  Mince, to remind me of what it is like watching Hibs!

I have sent time listening to this great album for 1969. The Hippy influence at its height on here. Great stuff!  I still have this in the rack behind me, not that I think it playable now but it was a great album at the time.  The Moody Blues continued for many years and performed at Glastonbury in 2015 ( I didn't go).  There have been changes to the line up and occasional fall outs but even in their dotage some are still continuing to play on.  I suppose it keeps them alive though after 70 million album sales I doubt any of them need the money.   Amazing to think all these guys are in their mid 70's!
I am still 32.

Hypocrisy/Same Old

Daily Mail

There has been a lot of fuss about one Harvey Weinstein  in recent days.  The tabloids are having a great time destroying someone who apparently was awfully important in Hollywood.  Personally I have never heard of him until now and this has not made any difference to my life nor I suspect to his.

This is the usual tale of abused suffering females and nasty horrid man in a corrupt organisation that has gone on for years and no-one bothered to do anything about it.  Isn't life hard for women?  

This man sexually satisfied himself with many up and coming actresses who understood their career would be harmed if they did not meet his requests.  Now one after another attention seeking women appear telling us of their woes filling the media with lurid tales some of which are no doubt true.  Poor girls the things they went through just to be a star!

Several things strike me here.

First any woman who thought much of herself would not have submitted to his desires putting their reputation and indeed life before any desire to become a film star.  How many of them were more than willing to play with anyone who could get them where they wished to be, yet now cry out years later?  

Second why did they not report it at the time?   There is a police force nearby, with female police officers sympathetic to the cause, why not seek them?  They did not report things because a career was more important so they kept quiet.  How many in the media have done the same?  How many knew of Jimmy Saville and kept quiet in spite of the suffering adolescent girls endured from him because had they spoken out their TV/radio/film career was over, so they let others suffer?  

The third thing to note is the acting required usually meant lts of undressing on screen and bonking anything that appeared 'in character' thus happy to endure on screen what they would not on the casting couch?  Hypocrite somewhat?  Most films are sex films these days, women's porn and not much else, so where is the problem doing same in real life?

The chattering classes have appeared full of judgement and condemnation and yet not one has queried the willingness of these women to use a man just to 'get on in movies.'  None condemn the women who seduce men to climb the greasy pole in business or media or any other walk of life and we have all met them.  No condemnation for men abused or pushed aside by women on the make.  Just loud voices once again in which women are good and men bad and isn't it awful yet none who accept that women use their bodies to get men on their side as much any man uses women. 

Such a hypocritical world, encouraged by the media, a media run by men who enjoy destroying other men by selling stories to women who think they then have some power but in truth are just being used.

Whether these tales are true or not, and I suspect most are, we all know this has gone on for ever and will do so still.  Men use women, women use men, pretty young girls who think moving into the movie world will be straightforward are rare.  Too many books, films, stories have shown this to be nonsense so why are these lassies upset?  Indeed why are so many others keeping quiet?  Because they have been paid to keep quiet or their career is more important still.

Ah money!  I note his wife has left him.  Poor dear, she maybe didn't know anything about his behaviour all this time and now she leaves and with little in her hand bar around $20 million dollars.  I don't know how she will get over the emotional shock.  The others in the bread line might get over it with a few million however...

 

On a more important note I see Gordon Strachan has parted company with the Scotland managers job 'by mutual consent.'  That means they agreed how much to pay him off.  

It was inevitable that after five or so years in the job he ought to go.  Gordon had his moments and in the end he almost got us into the World Cup once again but narrowly failed.  That is the story of his management.  He succeeded at Celtic with money behind him, managed Coventry for five years successfully getting them relegated and himself sacked, took Southampton to a losing English cup final, went to Celtic then failed at Middlesbrough and walked away without claiming a pay off.  

He took over Scotland after Craig Leveins famous 6-4 formation failed and sometimes produced good results and occasionally very bad ones.  He was not the worst manager Scotland has ever had and leaves at the right time with some decent young players appearing which the new manager ought to develop.

Ah the new manager.  The whole of Scotland wonders who this will be while the Scottish Football Association suits wonder which Old Firm name they can get to fill the job.  Once again they will fail to show intellectual depth and will concentrate of one of the Glasgow mafia as always.  Just who it will be matters not as long as it is one of their boys.  The bright new future we all hope for is still a pipe dream, it will be same old, same old.

So Quiet

So quiet just now.  The TV is off, the radio is off, and I sit in silence awaiting six O'clock.  This is important as at six BBC ALBA will offer the full game between St Johnstone and Hamilton Accies hence the silence.  Anything I listen to is likely to offer the score inadvertently so I sit with no noise, scared even to play You Tube in case it appears there.  Ah Radio 3 Jazz!  That fills a gap.
Had the weather been better had my health been better then I would be outside avoiding radios and observing the world, instead I linger here reading books and burning chicken for tea.

I took some objects to the museum early on for the next exhibition, something about the 60's, 70's and 80's which appear like yesterday to me but ancient history to some.
I remembered today the men I worked with when I left Edinburgh in 1975, several were in their late 50's and early 60's and it was interesting to consider that if they still lived they would be around a hundred years old.  In my mind of course they remain as I remember them, fit, healthy and bossing me around.  The women who threw themselves at me, or at least threw some things at me, will no longer be lithe young slips of girls, grandmothers all and yet here I am just as I was then, youthful, handsome and ........  *fill in as appropriate. 
Nostalgia is not what is was and that is why we are having an exhibition covering the Christmas period (note Christmas is less than 100 days away) and offering something many in the town will wish to remember.  They will also wish to visit the photos I am about to steal from them to offer for the exhibition!  Photos of people, places that no longer exist and then they can mutter and groan how "It was better back then" even if then they spent the time grumbling as to how it could be improved!  This they deny!  
Now, where are my Hippy beads...?

  

There's Nothing on Tonight!

I am sitting here vacantly staring at the laptop.
The screen is blank.
There is nothing on.
Nothing, not one thing.
There is no football to watch anywhere!
The season has ended.
All players are off on holiday bar those awaiting a cup final of some sort or an international game.
Unless their agent wishes them to discuss money with a club possibly even the one they already play for.
This means there is no football tonight.
Nothing.
I am beginning to see spiders....

Mackay

Looking up from the eye strain caused by looking down at the laptop for twenty years I note the election is still under way.  I have discovered a simple means of not getting wound up by this I don't watch the TV news (bias towards the Tories) I ignore the radio except news highlights (Tory bias) and have stopped reading the online press (Crap).  At least that's what I said today but I forget in the morning.  By listening to Radio 3 in the morning I seldom get excited.  Music may soothe the stormy breast or something but it does not get you excited over politics and the lies bouncing about everywhere.
In truth I just canny be bothered today.
The Spring bug is still hanging around, my eyes are strained, me head fuzzy and few notice any difference.  However i cannot be bothered listening to the political arguments which as always are half truths and lies with added whataboutery all the time.  
So I have been working on the Spring clean and managed to pull the tap apart sending water gushing up into the air all over me.  That dealt with I spent time drying off and contacting the landlord.  His man has known for a while that the sink unit will need changed and did not fancy the hard work involved, tomorrow he gets to decide if he does change it or get a plumber to do so.
This will be after I have spent the day at the museum, short staffed and I think with a school in. 
Oh joy.

 

Something Different

Having got fed up screaming at the laptop I laid it aside today only working out how to remove lots of stuff from its inner depths.  This I managed and discovered lots of old photos some of which I quite liked.

Twice this week I have been out late.  On Monday I met with the men at the Liberal Club staying out till nine at night!  Gosh!  I must say walking home the hundred yards I was impressed by the light sky at that time of night.  I love Spring! 
Last night I was forced to visit the museum again for a quiz night that almost never happened.  Too few booked up and a scramble was made to force people to round up family and friends.  We managed to obtain four teams and sat through several bottles of wine rounds of various questions.  I managed OK on the history and Geography rounds but was somewhat lost on the Science one and as for the Eurovision round count me out!  I switched that of forty years ago and feel better for it.  A jolly good night out I thought and wandered home after nine thirty again impressed with the sky.  I might have taken a picture if I had my camera but not having it I couldn't which was a shame.  Spring skies are wonderful.
The number of questions varied and we failed the history round only managing 12 out of 15 there, we must answer for this on Tuesday as we ought to get them all right!

The day has been mostly spent in watching or listening to the football.  I am almost beginning to look forward to the end of the season so I can have my Saturdays back.  Within a week I will be wishing football was back again however.  Once I am free from football I might get out and about as the weather might improve somewhat.  While it rains lightly and annoys the farmers it is almost always cloudy and there is not enough sunshine for my liking.        

I know this is an old picture but leaving the museum last night the sky was again like this but not so light.  Twilight, when the streets are quiet, is a fascinating time of day.  The weather is reasonable, the sky good, the occasional bird still chirps its warnings to possible opponents and the world is at its best.  Our civilised world, with traffic on the roads and in the air passing by all too often makes us long for green grass and silence.  A stream of rushing water at such a time can be a wonderful way to relax the mind after a day of noise and excitement.  This does not mean we do not wish to return to said excitement soon enough but we need these moments to refresh the head as it gets cluttered with worries.  Some like to pretend such moments are 'spiritual' but they fool themselves as this is merely the mind relaxing in the creation God has provided for us to refresh and recreate our minds, how we need this.

'B'

Coming home from St P's I passed this bright and shiny 'Bentley' parked at the side of the road. An unusual sight to see, clearly used for weddings and the like and not really happy to have the hood up I thought.  Vehicles such as this are not made for daily operation, weddings, birthdays, celebrations of some sort certainly but not gray cloudy days when there is a hint of rain in the air.  Up north Aberdeenshire is suffering snow they tell me, I am happy to let it fall there, keep it away from me I say!
This is not like any Bentley I have seen and had I not been on the bike and parked on a busy road I would have looked to see if it was left handed, a US import perhaps?  However I could not tell and trundled my way home, aching as always, and dreaming of tea. 
Wandering not far from Marylebone Station one day long ago I passed a couple of old garages in a mews, now done up and costing millions, one bearing a small plate proclaiming Bentley had made his first car (Number One) in this garage.  He was clearly a technical man, trained by the railways he joined with his brother in selling French cars and then moving on from developing engines for Sopwith aircraft during the war used such engines to make the cars that made them famous.  Such cars were world beaters during the 20's and 30's remaining today as cars for the top people, footballers, pop stars, business leaders, the doers and shakers of this world.
I don't have one.

No football worth watching so far this weekend.  Some Scottish Cup semi finals, one or two mediocre English ones, but nothing for me.  Hibernian lost to Aberdeen, Celtic naturally beat Rangers and people questioned the Rangers centre forwards fitness to be on the pitch.  I know this because on Twitter we were asked to retweet which was the better footballer, one was Martin Waghorn (like) the other a large fridge (retweet).  The people were asked to choose and hundreds retweeted in support of the fridge!  Very few 'liked' Waghorn.  The English games were tolerable but it is always the same people appearing.  How tiresome...

   

Garden Wander

To escape from the laptop I strode manfully through the public gardens today to see what life was like outside in the sunshine.  Being Half Term the place was choked with adolescents shouting at each other with half the gardens given over to toddlers and their neurotic mum's.  This was not going to be the time to catch a Robin sitting on a bench nor really the ideal opportunity to picture Blossom. 

As I wandered around I wondered about the Dear Leader and her entourage.  Theresa May was in Saudi Arabia, a nation we built up under Abdullah, saw it taken during a nasty civil war in the twenties by the Saudi's, and now the home of billions of money Theresa wishes to get her hands on. She kept up the PR stunts of her predecessor, remember taking lots of women to visit Trump in the US?  Well she was at it here refusing to wear a headscarf though she avoided driving just to ensure she made some money.  While not mentioning the cutting off criminals hands, nor the heads lopped off every so often, nor the place of women under the Wahabee  strict rule she did manage to get out a message mentioning the dropping of the word 'Easter' from 'Easter Eggs.'    
Now she is of course right in this, the food manufacturers do not wish to put anything regarding Jesus on their packaging and she ought to embarrass them by asking why?  However her Christian concern would be better appreciated if  the Tories had not chosen this week in which to cut benefits from children who have lost parents, nor to begin cutting money for the disabled and a great many other cruel and vindictive policies which hit the poorest and show no concern for 'Loving thy neighbour!'

 
A mixture of little Spring plants adorn the front of a house round the corner.  I regard this as the best garden at this time of year.  Little plants of blue and yellow with purple heather and green bits enhancing a very natural Spring garden.  I like it.

I was musing the other day about those poor Arsenal fans who wish their long serving manager to go!  He took over the club about 20 years ago and has given them the Championship, several cups and finished in the Champions League places almost every year, and they want him to go because he has not won the Championship for a long time, nor have they succeeded in Europe.  
Poor things!
I reckon half of those who grumble were not born when he arrived and almost as many were too young to know what was going on, yet they grumble!  Real football fans, that is almost every team in every division of every league at every level have to face the fact that sometimes they have good times and sometimes they do not.  The fans who become used to success, such as those at the Heart of Midlothian, quickly become despairing when success that dangles tantalisingly close is suddenly taken away from them are just as bad as Arsenal fans who are used to success but not regarding the two trophies that now mean so much to them, indeed they believe they now have a right to! 
Silly Arsenal fans.  You only get what you deserve.
No matter how much money you spend you cannot guarantee success.  Clearly Celtic, spending about £700,000 on each player a year will have more chance of success than Inverness Caledonian Thistle who spend £42,000 a year, yet success is not guaranteed even then.  A poor manager, disputes within the dressing room and a variety of bad results can lead to despair and failure no matter how much is spent.  The leading English clubs, Chelsea, Manchester City, Manchester United and Arsenal have all spent at least a billion and they too go through hard times.  The fans, especially those who were not there during the hard times, are often the first to utter complaints when success is not seen, fans of lesser clubs with little money may never see much success but an occasional cup win but these fans are often more loyal, better behaved, always there even if in small numbers and will still be there when failure comes once again. 
Poor Arsenal fans, come into the real world, there is a place for you.

Sunday Morning

Sunday morning football is not something I was ever involved with.  I am not sure it occurred in Edinburgh in those days though I think many played on Saturday afternoons, the schools certainly played on Saturday mornings.  We ourselves having left school and unable for reasons we failed to understand took to playing football on Sunday afternoons at the Meadows while attempting to listen to John Peel offering proper music on a distant transistor radio. This was not a success.
Maybe I misunderstand but it appears to me England was full of people playing football on Sunday mornings.  This seems to still be the thing to do but as I rarely pass the fields on Saturday's I do not know if anyone plays there at that time.
It is a long time since I last stood between the goalposts, feet inches deep in mud, thoroughly enjoying myself in spite of the score.  Wormwood Scrubs, 11:30 in the morning, around 1976 or 77,  I reckon was the last game I played.  We drew four all with the Spanish church.  The sounds of the players cries, the thud of the ball as it bounces of the bonce, the emotions aroused when you score or lose a goal, the smell of the grass or ought I say mud as face down you grasp for the ball near the goaline, all such things remain in the memory and please the heart, unlike the aches and bruises found the next day.

These events today were put on by the local football club which struggles near the bottom of what is called the 'national league,' and unofficially called the 'Fifth Division.'  Partly because this gives coaching to young players who one day might bring fame and fortune to the club and partly because such 'community efforts' help encourage the council to back the club in its drive to build a new and much needed stadium players of all sorts can be found here on Sunday mornings no matter the weather.
The earnest kids play a disciplined game such as we at that age never comprehended, their knowledge of tactics far outweighs mine, their positional sense at seven years old is greater than mine will ever be, and maybe one day they will indeed make it to the top division and even their national side.  
parents, often under strict instructions regarding their behaviour, shouting or attitudes towards the referee watch on keenly interested in their offspring's development.   Mums shiver behind the coffee mug obtained from the pie stall trailer that makes a good living from the watchers, Dads once more fantasise about success, this time for their son, wishing they knew then what they know now and on occasion running the line trying their best to keep within the spirit off the game and give correct decisions.  Others find some degree of enjoyment racing after a loose shot as the ball runs down the slope and bodies no longer used to running begin to stiffen before they have returned the ball to the playing area.  Glancing at the pie stall they wonder if they ought to buy something or wait until later and visit the 'Coach & Horses' instead?  

  
They even have girls teams pretending they are men on occasion.  It is clear from those involved that few will make it to a higher level though one girl I saw on an earlier occasion might make it playing rugby!  For most of them fun is the main thing though I notice few girls team in recent weeks, maybe the weather was too cold!  
One problem I find is that if you don't make it into a 'team' you might not play football in any place. Until the late 70's or the early 80's football was played in open spaces five night a week in every part of the country, now it is played in school playgrounds if there is space or not at all.  I wonder if the lack of natural talent has been lost because few now play in these sometimes 20 a side games with players of various ability?  The great skillful players of yesteryear all came though such football education and I wonder if this is losing talent that ought to be allowed to develop before such coaching is used.
It also loses many who get discouraged early on and fail to just enjoy the game, played at their own ability level, for fun with little thought of a future career.  Playing for fun, in spite of the weather, also involves team spirit, meeting strangers, a wee bit of travel and again more fun!  We cannot all make the top level but we can make fun out of the game with friends surely?

Sabbath Musings

 

At last, and after far too long a break, the football season proper has returned!

The usual start of course, Rangers, the SPFLs friend get an easy start while the Heart of Midlothian play Celtic and then Aberdeen and that one away!  Naturally also today we outplayed Celtic and they steal the game with a lucky breakaway goal near the end.  It was ever thus!  

Also naturally I was informed the game began at three in the afternoon and having been out this morning and rushing home to see the other game between St Johnstone v Aberdeen at 12 I happily drifted into asleep after the game knowing I would miss nothing.  I missed 30 minutes of the referees preference for the visitors as the game actually began at 2:15!! GRRR! It's a disgrace!

Now however as always I am emotionally worn out, I need another rest, my heart has skipped a beat, my nerves are shaking, and my head spinning.  This football wears you out and there is still nine more months of this to go!

 

Olympics, I really don't care!  The BBC is totally given over to this waste of cash and every channel is full of this extravaganza.

Since Lord Coe in his heedless determination to have a Great Britain football team for the London Olympics that we will still be paying for in a centuries time, since he informed the Scots to 'F. Off! when the Scottish Football Association refused to play ball I have lost any lingering concern for this 'Team GB' an absurd way to describe the team anyway.  There is no 'GB' and there should be no 'Team GB.'   It ought to be called 'Team UK' but because some in Northern Ireland don't like it so that part is omitted to allow them to choose whether to be GB or Ireland.  Yet Scots are forced to be GB, it's a disgrace!

Rarely will I watch any of the late night offerings, most of which will concentrate on England, sorry, 'Team GB' anyway.  I am glad some football will be available to take the mind of things.

It is at least better than tennis!

Euro 16

So the European Championships are upon us at last!  We have waited eons since the end off the last season for some football action - that's about ten days as far as I can see!  Now tonight football returns.  Of course Scotland did not bother going this time as the hotel bills were considered too
 expensive by the SFA suits.  Instead we Scots simply check who England is playing and give them our support. This time it is Russia, a team that can be either great or feeble, Slovenia, who fail to make it but play well and Wales our Celtic cousins who at least have one or two decent players and I look forward to encouraging them to stuff the English imperialists right and proper!
Of course neither will win the thing, France, Germany, Spain and Italy must always be the front runners and one or two others will be able to challenge them this time.  The two Irish sides will put up a good show, scared of no-one and with nothing to lose they will have a hard time as they meet decent sides but hopefully they will put on a good show.
English folks around me are dubious about their chances so I am helpfully indicating to them just how rotten they are in the hope that their depression will stop the needless press hype that follows England everywhere.  The English press work on the principle that they call them 'heroes' and 'greats' and when they lose the knife is then stuck in and they crucify them, objective fact is ignored to sell grubby papers.
At least there will be something to watch in the evening as the sun goes down.

At this point I was going to scribble a new topic of enduring importance however I notice it is getting near time for the first game tonight so I must go and prepare.....