Ministry of fun and games
WHY DOES any country need a minister of sport? This should surely be the ultimate in unregulated free association. People decide for themselves what games they want to play and then they get on with organising it.
Some stay amateur. Others go professional and organise their game in conjunction with sponsors, advertisers and TV networks. It's difficult to see any need for government intervention.
In his latest grumpy newsletter, investment analyst James Greener takes up the case. He says he was a student in England when the first minister of sport was appointed.
"Would it be unfair to point out that since then England has yet to win another soccer world cup? Naturally here in South Africa we also have a department and minister to look after sport, recreation and culture with a budget this year of R6.4 billion."
He notes that the department has plunged into the murky world of SA Boxing, promising taxpayers' money for pugilists who claim that their own governing body has cheated them.
"The story is extremely muddled with tales of cancelled bouts, withdrawn boxing licences and stripped titles ... SARS are in the mix ... This could develop into a wonderful drama."
Puzzled panhandlers?
STILL with James Greener, he speculates on the reason for the long dragged-out process of the government making up its mind on the Wallmart/Massmart merger.
"Presumably it is simply because no palms have been greased and no relatives have been promised mispriced contracts. In the US they have a piece of legislation that forbids any of their companies from paying backhanders, and corporate suits are fearful of being caught because the law is enforced and penalties are severe. Local panhandlers have yet to grasp this concept."
Oh boy!
Cairns croc
A CROCODILE caused consternation in Cairns, Queensland, when it slithered out of a sewer onto a busy street. It was a small specimen – only 1.5m in length – of saltwater crocodile, which can grow to 7m and weigh a ton.
Police and street sweepers kept the croc away from the crowds with brooms, and eventually he was bundled away into the care of the Queensland Parks and Wildlife agency.
Saltwater crocodiles – known as "salties" – kill an average of two people a year in Australia.
Salty? This one emerged from a sewer. The name is surely a euphemism.
Budding poet
POETRY corner. Reader Ray Gorven (who I understand is in his nineties) continues striving to emulate William McGonagall and wrest from him the title of the worst poet ever.
It's winter in Durban in two thousand one, one
And it's freezing outside so it sure ain't much fun.
The sky opened up and the rain pelted down
And if you weren't on some high ground, you could very well drown.
The TV guy who promised us hard rain
Has done so once more with wind just the same.
It was gale force before when it touched forty knots,
So get out your jerseys and put on warm socks.
There's snow on the 'Berg where the icy wind blows,
So when will it warm up? Only Heaven knows!
Ray also submits a couplet written by a pal.
Ag, ple-e-e-e-eze Idler, you've never been rash,
So don't ever print any more of Ray's trash.
Nosiree! Not only do I refuse to contemplate censorship, I am not prepared to hinder the development of a 96-year-old budding poet.
Established poet
Meanwhile, Ian Gilmour, poet Laureate of Hillcrest, castigates Ray's bowling club for its refusal to display his verse in the bar – but is not surprised. "My club thought a limerick was a kind of Irish stew!"
He pens some lines composed during a blizzard in the northern Drakensberg. They might or might not be influenced by the decanter moving about the table during lunch at The Cavern.
Hillaire Belloc' s verse is light and airy,
But deep down it's quite synoptic;
What one might get from a fairy,
Subliminal, and surely psychtropic.
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Tailpiece
Last word
I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.
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