Hooliganism in Russia
IT'S CURIOUS the way the Russians, when they get really offended, prosecute people on charges of "hooliganism". It happened with Pussy Riot, the feminist musical group who were agitating against Vladimir Putin.
It also happened back in 1987 when an 18-year-old West German named Mathias Rust flew a Cessna light aircraft to Moscow from Finland. He somehow made his way unscathed through the Soviet air defences and landed his Cessna on a bridge near Red Square.
Hooliganism – that was the charge in both cases. Pussy Riot got two years each for their ribald – some would say sacriligeous – protest against Putin in Christ the Saviour Cathedral in Moscow. Rust got four years in a labour camp. But he was released after two months as a goodwill gesture toward the West.
Will Pussy Riot be as fortunate? Maybe Putin has a sense of humour after all - though if he does he hides it well.
Music halls
WHERE did the Russians hit on the word "hooligan" – "khuligan", as it has been transposed to their own language?
Its origins appear to be the music halls of 19th century London, where the word was based on a riotous Irish family named Hooligan, or Houlihan, who allegedly featured regularly in the police reports. But even this might be a stage stereotyping - it's not certain whether the Houlihans really existed .
But they were real enough for the 19th century Russians to take "hooligan" into their vocabulary, meaning young members of an informal group who commit acts of vandalism and criminal damage, start fights and cause disturbances – but are not actually dishonest. It can also mean political dissenters.
Well, much of that sounds like Pussy Riot (quite apart from the name). But a two-year jail sentence?
Putin surely has a great PR opportunity. The Orthodox clergy have themselves called for clemency. The West would be so grateful they'd get him tickets for a Justin Bieber concert.
High kick
THE TOWN of Garryowen, in Montana, the United States, has just two buildings and a population of two people. Now it is up for sale by public auction, bidders required to put down a deposit of $250 000.
Why should anyone want this place that consists of a town hall – that incorporates a sandwich shop and post office – and another building with office space, a petrol station and a park with mature trees?
The reason is its history. Garryowen is located on the spot of Custer's Last Stand, where Colonel George A Custer and his Seventh Cavalry were wiped out in the Battle of Littlebig Horn by the Lakota, North Cheyenne and Arapo peoples, led by Chief Crazy Horse.
The small town takes its name from Garryowen, the marching tune of the Seventh Cavalry.
Garryowen is also, of course, the name of a town in Ireland. It's also the name of a rugby tactic. The Garryowen – a high up-and-under kick – was a favourite of the local rugby side. In South Africa the up-and-under is sometimes also known as the skop-en-donder.
Perhaps that's the secret of the Battle of Little Bighorn – Crazy Horse launched a lethal skop-en-donder on Colonel Custer. Maybe Custer should have called for a mark.
Poor turnout
AND SPEAKING of rugby, the crowd turnout for last Saturday's first Currie Cup home match of the season was somewhere between sparse and pathetic.
Yes, it was chilly. Yes, the game all but overlapped with the Test at Newlands.
But the main reason is the time of the match. Many of the King's Park faithful are from Maritzburg and the country districts. A match starting at 7pm or thereabouts is just not on.
What's rugby without a crowd? Surely they can squeeze in just a few 3pm matches?
Tailpiece
She: "The car's broken down. There's water in the carburettor."
He: "Where is the car?"
She: "In the river."
Last word
I have a theory that the truth is never told during the nine-to-five hours. – Hunter S Thompson
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