Category: sport

Disruption

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I’m back in my car park, but surely only briefly. There are, I would estimate, around 400 people at this particular sports complex this evening. Dodgeball, squash, rugby – at least two different team groups, baseball and dog agility training. (There are several dogs, as well.)

And we’re all going to have to go home when the power goes off at 8 o’clock. Training truncated. Sports shortened. Activities abbreviated. That’s a lot of people who are having their evening ruined.

It’s also going to make the traffic out of here quite horrible.

Back home 6000 miles… away, things are looking equally disrupted. But this time, it’s the weather.

The local road through to Manchester – always an early casualty in the snow – has been closed, but you’ve got to be a bit of a mindreader to know. (Or, you know, just notice that there’s white stuff on the floor and put two and two together.)

Derbyshire County Council has announced the A57 Snake Pass, a link between Sheffield and Manchester, is closed. They said in a statement the road was closed because of snow, adding: “Unfortunately the electronic signs we have on the pass are not working today.”

“Please do not attempt this road or any of the others we have closed.“

Ooh. Very cryptic. I got my crystal ball out and tried to work out which other roads those were, but all I came up with was the Three of Clubs. So, I’ll dutifully be avoiding that this evening.

Burning bridges with Bruno Fernandes

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Football social media worldwide is still alight with news of that result in that big game, and yes, I too was delighted to see Sheffield United win away at Reading last night. Get in there!

Before that big game though, everyone was talking about Sunday evening’s Liverpool vs Manchester United match at Anfield.

I realise that I am a little behind the curve on this one.

Look, we all know that the match finished 7-0, and while I have no particular love for either of the teams involved, clearly the right team won on the night. When you win a game 7-0, it’s not by chance.

One of the talking points of the evening, aside from the scoreline, was the behaviour/attitude/general shithousery of Manchester United captain Bruno Fernandes. [see here] And The Athletic, to which I subscribe, wrote a huge long article on it, which is behind a paywall, but which also appears to have somehow magically tumbled into a PDF available here.

You lucky fishes.

It’s well worth a read. Suffice to say, Nick Miller does not hold back in his criticism, or his language. Lines like:

Fernandes reacted to yesterday’s events in the way that an especially immature six-year-old child might deal with huge disappointment.

or:

Cue the first of many arm-flaps, the Fernandes limbs flailed like the wings of a particularly petulant owl. We would see it again, many more times.

or:

Anyone who’s spent time with a toddler will tell you they don’t like it when they don’t get their way. 

and:

In truth, this was a fairly routine bit of play-acting, the sort of thing which is deeply tiresome but that you see a few times in every game. But in the context of everything else, on top of the arm flapping and the complaining and the diving, this was an especially fetid cherry atop a decomposing cake.

Quite literally delicious. Or… er… not.

I know that the TA, who unknowingly came up with the filename for the link above, will love every moment of Miller’s synopsis. And, despite the result and the depression and the embarrassment and the often unkind (but amusing) piss-taking and rivalry, I suspect that many Man U fans will agree with a lot of it too.

I’m not a sports journalist, and I recognise that The Athletic isn’t the biggest name when it comes to EPL coverage, but given how much the red half of Manchester must be smarting already, I wonder if they will now refuse to give interviews to Miller and The Athletic going forward. Have bridges been burned?

Surely not, though. You’d have to be really childish and petulant to do that.

Oh.

Another quick catch up

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Admit it: The Army Corps Of Engineers Has Released a 2023 Calendar Of Giant Cats Attacking Infrastructure is the sort of headline that makes you want to go and look at the 2023 Calendar Of Giant Cats Attacking Infrastructure. It’s also the sort of headline that made me think that it would be the perfect subject for a blog post.
And it does exist: just click the link above. Sadly, it’s also really disappointing.
So… er… maybe don’t click the link above.

Coverify is an online playlist cover making app. And if you don’t have Photoshop or something similar, then it’s perfect for making your online playlist covers. I do have Photoshop or something similar, so I do my own, but I did enjoy the simplicity of the Coverify process and the results do look pretty good.

I knocked out a reasonably decent 7km this morning, (given that I’m still struggling with this) with just a bit of hill thrown in for good measure.

No world records were in any danger, but on the positive side of things, while I’m aware of my ankle, it’s not causing me any big issues after this morning’s efforts. Yet.
Tomorrow may bring a World Of PainTM, but for the moment, I’m feeling pretty good and highly motivated.

Fair point. I’ll tone it down a bit.

The Cut-Off Low (see here) which threatened the interior of the Western Cape this weekend, did its best to cause panic and mayhem. Grabouw got 84mm of rain yesterday, Kirstenbosch got 48mm, Struisbaai 35mm and Laingsburg (which has a bit of history of these sort of things) (the museum is excellent, btw) thankfully managed just a single mm.

I made some Yorkshire Puddings last week and they weren’t quite up to my usual standard. They were still damn good; it’s just that I set myself very high standards for that sort of thing.
Could this air-fryer recipe (I can almost hear my ancestors turning in their graves) be an option for next time?

Right, and on that bombshell, it’s back to the studio time to end. More tomorrow.

Good morning, Blades.

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A lovely evening yesterday. Not the most exciting of cup ties. Not the giant-killing that the press were hoping for us to be involved in this season, but just a quietly assured performance, despite injuries and illness.

And this guy, working his magic and dancing through a helpless Tottenham defence.

A lovely confidence boost and a reminder of what we can do to a big club by applying ourselves: te passion, a lot of hard work and some properly vocal support.

Goodbye Motty

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Sad news this morning that John Motson – the original football commentator in Britain – has died.

He commentated on almost 2,500 games, including 10 World Cups and 29 FA Cup Finals. But I remember him for the smaller games too. He was just ubiquitous.

Here he is at Wycombe Wanderers in 1990 in the image that made his trademark sheepskin coat… well… a trademark.

He was the voice of football for my generation. A class apart: especially when compared to today’s egotistical pundits and commentators.

EDIT: A lovely Guardian piece on some of his best moments.