Let’s try this

I was reminded this morning of a mate back in the UK who would love to catch people out with a little trick whenever he was about to do something he was looking forward to. Simple stuff, but just funny. Mate’s humour.

An example:

Him: Hey, did I hear that you’re going away to Crete for two weeks?
Me: [somewhat wistfully] No. Not this year.
Him: Oh, just me then.

Bastard.

Yeah, he got me a couple of times, but it was always more amusing to see him get other people with it over a beer at the quiz or after some football. Even better because we could all see he was lining one up, and they had no idea.

Halcyon days.

Anyway, on a different subject… Have any of you readers covered your hands in superglue and then stabbed yourself with a screw whilst trying to repair a wooden clothes horse that should probably have been thrown away a couple of years ago?

No?

Great. Just me then.

Choke

Looking back on the matches from the Easter weekend, I’m still annoyed. And it’s the lack of consistency in the refereeing in the Premier League that annoys me most. I don’t mind errors being made. Refs are only human, and they make mistakes.

You don’t expect all the players to go through the entire game without a single error, so why should we expect it of the officials?

But sometimes, there are some easy decisions that can be based on some really high profile precedents that are seemingly – and mystifyingly – ignored. The hands around the throat thing: it’s a red card. Unequivocally. It’s not hard.

It was a red card for Casemiro last February:

It was a red card for Rodri in September.

And… er… it wasn’t a red card for Calvin Bassey on Saturday.

And honestly, I really don’t understand why. Show me the difference in those three images.

There’s no point in crying over spilt milk, and that’s really not what I am doing here. I’ve seen enough decisions go for and against us over the n years I’ve been watching United to waste time, effort and pixels on that.

But we have a saying in our family: Everyone makes mistakes. It’s how you sort them out that matters.

And the most annoying thing is that nothing will be sorted out from this. Nothing will be learned. The next “hands around the throat” incident will result in a red card. Or it won’t. We really don’t know. Because exactly the same action is getting punished (or not) in different ways, despite the same laws apparently being applied.

Sometimes, things are tight (like those hands) and subjective and difficult to judge. I get that.
But this really isn’t one of them. Every Sunday league ref would get this one right.

And since the Premier League referees are full-time professionals with annual salaries well into into six figures, they really should be doing better.

Especially on the easy stuff like this.

Hike

An interesting hike up to the Constantiaberg Mast yesterday morning with friends. 8.8km in distance and 510m of ascent. Sometimes hot and sunny, sometimes cold and windy. Such is the chaotic nature of the weather in the Table Mountain National Park. But on the backside of the mountain on the way up, we were mainly surviving a “bracing” gale force southwesterly, straight off the Atlantic.

Not much animal life around, but a fair selection of birds and plenty (or more) of South Africa’s National Flower, the King Protea (Protea cynaroides):

Interestingly, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of reproducible information about the actual mast that we walked up to. Sitting on a mountain of 902m, it’s either 146m or 154m high, which I guess won’t really bother anyone who’s not flying nearby between 1048m and 1056m amsl. But it does really seem like something that really should be a known value.

It’s about half the height of the Eiffel Tower, which looks BIG whenever you see it. But even when you’re right underneath this structure, it really doesn’t seem that tall. Maybe that’s because there’s nothing around to compare it to. The guy wires holding it up in the mighty Cape wind – the two of which make an eerie and almost ominous sound as they meet – are seriously hefty though, as are their attachment points to the mountain. It doesn’t seem to wobble much.
And although there’s still radio and TV being broadcast from here, the majority of the infrastructure now seems to be microwave-based – I counted over 70 transceivers. And one big satellite dish.

One thing that is a little lax is the security. A waist-high, rusting barbed wire fence (and some healthy self-preservation and vertigo) was all that was stopping us from being able to access and climb the tower. (B)eagle-eyed readers will be able to see the wide open gate to the right of the road: that’ll certainly assist in keeping people from getting very, very close to this strategically important bit of national infrastructure.

We just sat there and had a coffee and some hot cross buns though, before a much less hectic descent back to the car.

A good morning out.