Sport – Page 34 – Boadicea's Chariot

Windsurfing

You know how it is when stuff is free. It feels mean not to avail yourself. People have gone to a lot of trouble and it would be rude to refuse.

It was our first all-inclusive hol and there were drinks, all the food you could want and free watersports. Well, obviously booze and swimming don’t mix. Neither do food and swimming for that matter so that was mostly for the evening.

I’m not one of those “alarm clock” sunbathers who turn themselves regularly beneath the roasting Caribbean sun to create that lovely mahogany tan so beloved of Peter Stringfellow which will inevitably turn into briefcase leather at around 65 years old. Continue reading “Windsurfing”

Watery Paradise II

Those noises were very spooky. It’s not as if you don’t hear noise underwater. I’ve heard boat engines, outboards, jetskis, pedaloes, people noises and the sound of rain on the surface of the ocean, but never this weird, unearthly kind of calling.

Sometimes a lower pitch moan seemed to be “answered” by a higher pitch whine, mixed with other more faint noises which were difficult to discern. Continue reading “Watery Paradise II”

Watery paradise

I left some Caribbean beach between my toes for the flight, the sea in my hair for two days and the Virgin holidays luggage label is still on the rucksack.

I have shells on the dressing table and pieces of washed up coral and I’m wearing the weird shell, local rock and local wood bracelet that Helenora the lady who sat on the beach stringing beads, made for me. Continue reading “Watery paradise”

The Ballad of Brave Monty Mouse: The Flood

It rained and rained, and in the nest,
They shook their duvets sadly.
The damp was dire, and all were stressed;
The mice were faring badly.

Hips, haws, and berries for their needs
Were in the grain store dank.
‘Twas also full of mildewed seeds,
Monty’s spirits sank.

Continue reading “The Ballad of Brave Monty Mouse: The Flood”

Alternative Gilly

Mr Chandrasekhar’s top of the range Mahindra scattered the stones in the car park. I guided the roller in his direction and called out a greeting, touching my cap respectfully as always, “नमस्कार महोदय, आप कैसे हैं ?”

He grinned and winked, replying – “नमस्ते गिली, हार्ड काम करते हो ? … and I must say your Hindi accent is improving; well done!”

We strolled together to the clubhouse, reviewing the arrangements for the match against the touring team on Saturday. He lowered himself into a deck-chair on the veranda and sighed. “I may have to miss the match. I shall probably have to fly back home tomorrow; the riots are getting worse and I need to arrange protection for my family. Why do all you Christians cause so much trouble all the time?” Continue reading “Alternative Gilly”

I have completed!

Last night at 8:30 I finished another 51 lengths at my local pool, bringing my counted total to 1011: I have swum the 25 km, and added a few more, just in case I had any ‘over counting errors’ over the last few weeks! (Sometimes when I’m swimming I get into a zone and forget momentarily to count – though more often than not I just go back to the last number I remember counting, so may have done a few more, rather than less!) Continue reading “I have completed!”

Keeping Young at Heart

On Thursday I swam in the ‘Young at Heart’ session. The session is for OAPs, disabled and those who are over 50. As you may remember I fall into the latter category. Just.
All well and good.

The pool wasn’t too busy: I went in as the Toddlers and their Mums came out, along with the rope that divides the shallow end from the rest of the pool. I was in the water and ready to go at three minutes to three, and in there with me were two men doing plodding lengths, one with his specs on doing only head-up breast stroke, while the other alternated between breast stroke and crawl, plus there were three women in various Delphinium coloured costumes with Marigold hats and another man in a floating device with two carers. Continue reading “Keeping Young at Heart”

At least CA got one thing right …

Choosing Shane Watson as Michael Clarke’s deputy, and therefore anointing him as Australia’s future Captain-in-waiting, will be popular with almost everybody down under. He can bat (usually), he can bowl (most of the time), and he’s a nice guy – which is very important.

He’s a straight Aussie bloke from Queensland without tats, without a flashy celebrity girl-friend (though his current lady is nice enough), and without megabuck advertising contracts for poofy or weirdo products. When he had some spare time recently he visited his family and friends in his home town of Ipswich, which had suffered greatly from flooding, and lent a hand rather than driving expensive sports cars and getting pissed.

I will concede that there are other promising young cricketers who might be considered as future captains – Tim Paine for example – but at the moment they are not in the team. One reason for this is that two places are still occupied by Clarke and Ponting, neither of whom deserve a place on current performance, recent century notwithstanding.

Australia’s renewal will not begin until Ponting is finally put out to grass and Clarke stops being a sissy.

Twitchy on Sunday Mornings?

I’m not a twitcher, not really – but I am interested and my friend, Craig who helped me with the swift boxes had offered to lead a walk this morning helping a group of us identify birds by their calls.

“We’re meeting at 10am,” he said, “at the top of the lane. But don’t forget that is will be an hour earlier body clock wise.” Craig has a wonderfully measured approach to life. He considers things and speaks with gentleness and authority.

Now I’m not an early riser, if I don’t have to be – and the weekend is catch up time – but I really thought 10 am on a Sunday morning, even though it would feel like 9 am wouldn’t be too difficult.
I hadn’t taken into account Cycloman’s schedules. Maybe because I hadn’t actually been told them?
On Friday a colleague asked about his cycling plans this weekend: would he be doing the Islip one? I didn’t know.
So when he arrived home on Friday I asked. Continue reading “Twitchy on Sunday Mornings?”

Cricket chirps

There’s an outside chance that our non cricket loving members might enjoy these, I did…

The only time an Australian ever walks is when his car runs out of petrol.
Barry Richards, 1980

Are you going to get out or do I have to come round the wicket and kill you?
Malcolm Marshall to David Boon

Shane Warne: I’ve waited two years for another chance to humiliate you.
DaryllCullinan: Looks like you spent it eating. Continue reading “Cricket chirps”