No zip, no flair
SATURDAY'S Test against Ireland was indeed disappointing, a complete absence of zip and flair. The Irish played most of the game with only 14 men – and you couldn't notice the difference.
The fundis on TV afterwards struggled to put their finger on what was wrong. This is disturbing because it suggests there is something wrong with the chemistry, not something that can be sorted out at practice.
What could be causing that? Political interference? Maybe, maybe not.
The other night a "Currie Cup" match was played at Loftus between a Sharks XV and the Bulls. It was quite a good game. The Sharks lost the lead they'd had most of the match, the final hooter went and then the Sharks, who had possession, threw in wave after wave of attack and darn nearly scored a winning try. Great handling, such guts! It went on for about eight minutes.
Did Loftus stand and cheer? Did they heck! The place was totally empty. 'Twas eerie.
Can we afford to dilute the Currie Cup like this? Has anything of the sort happened to provincial rugby competitions in New Zealand, say?
It seems the chemistry is wrong at more than one level in our rugby?
Bah! Humbug!
HOW long can a birthday celebration last? Queen Elizabeth's 90th has stretched from April – her actual birthday – to last weekend when her official birthday was celebrated (with Prince Phillip's 95th slipped in on Friday and marked by a quiet cannonade in Hyde Park).
Bah! Humbug! as Scrooge might have said.
But on it went. A service in St Paul's Cathedral. Trooping the Colour, an array of bearskins and scarlet tunics; military precision, horses and catchy music. London's biggest street party ever in The Mall. Representatives of the Commonwealth (our own included, presumably) treated to a knees-up in the Guildhall. The streets absolutely jammed with spectators waving Union Jacks.
In an attempt to balance things, Sky TV did an investigation of the Bah! Humbug! faction.
It turns out there's an organisation in Britain called Republic. It has 5 000 paid-up members. They mainly hand out leaflets against the monarchy in the streets. Sky interviewed a leading light in Republic, who turned out to be none other than Alastair Campbell, the sour-faced former spin doctor of Tony Blair.
Republic was facing uphill, Campbell conceded. Queen Elizabeth had seen them off for at least a generation.
One sympathises. The monarchy is popular for a range of reasons. For some it's a kind of romantic, atavistic link with the far-off age of Charlemagne. For others, the monarch is head of the Church of England. For most, the monarchy is simply a unifying force, not identified with any political faction.
Also, it's fun. You just can't imagine President Dave or President Jeremy Trooping the Colour.
It seems Alastair will have that sour look for some time to come.
Pyjama game
OVERHEARD in the Street Shelter for the Over-Forties: "I always take my wife her morning tea in my pyjamas. But is she grateful? No, she wants it in a cup."
Oops!
OH DEAR. It was with some fanfare last week that the Italian authorities announced they had captured a notorious people-smuggler known as "The General", who was behind of much of the traffic from Libya.
They said they arrested an Eritrean named Mered Medhanie in Sudan, with the assistance of British police intelligence, and flew him straight to detention in Italy. His photograph appeared on the TV networks.
But now, according to the BBC, two sisters have claimed that the man captured is their missing brother, Eritrean Medhanie Testarmariam. There is some speculation that the man arrested was in fact himself waiting to be people smuggled.
Potentially great embarrassment here. How can they make it up to him if the sisters are correct and the speculation is true?
Maybe they should then just open the jail and let Medhanie walk. What a spectacular illegal migration! And at government expense! We watch with interest.
Support
BIRTHDAY speech.: "I'd like to thank my legs for supporting me; my arms for always being by my side; and my fingers … I could always count on them."
Tailpiece
TWO musicians are walking down the street.
"Who was that piccolo I saw you with last night?"
"That was no piccolo, that was my fife."
Last word
It is better to have a permanent income than to be fascinating.
No comments:
Post a Comment