Brian Micklethwait's Blog
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Most recent entries
- Mr Ed has some metaphorical fun
- A picture of a book about pictures
- To Tottenham (8): Zooming in on some Big Things
- Playing golf versus following cricket
- Quota bicycles
- Another Capital Golf car
- Battersea Power Station then and now and soon
- Timing shits instead of forcing them
- Lincoln Paine shifts the emphasis from land to water (with a very big book)
- Classic cars in Lower Marsh
- Stabat Mater at St Stephen’s Gloucester Road
- A selfie being taken a decade ago
- Gloucester Road with evening sun
- Lea River footbridge
- “Yeah, no …”
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Category archive: Sport
So far, I have only managed seven photo-postings about my expedition to the big old Tottenham Hotspur Stadium, which is now in the process of being turned into a bigger new Tottenham Hotspur Stadium. Tomorrow, Spurs play Chelsea in the semi finals of the FA Cup, and in honour of this confrontation, here is Tottenham posting number eight.
I made my way eastwards from the stadium, towards the park and then the canal beside which I hoped to walk south. But before I got there, I encountered this:
This footbridge is to be found next to the level crossing at the north end of Northumberland Park railway station. I climbed up on the footbridge and took this shot, looking south, of that railway station:
My main reason for showing this is to show you how far away the Big Things of the City are from this vantage point. This sort of circumstance being why God invented zoom lenses. Look what happened when I cranked up my zoom, on my trusty Panasonic Lumix FZ200.
What you see here is the miniscule portion of the above view that you see if you follow the railway lines straight to the horizon, and then shift a tiny bit to the left, just past that big spikey thing, to those tiny little things sticking up, just beyond the big spike and to its left, as we look:
And what we see is that those tiny things are the Big Things of the City of London. Gherkin. Cheesegrater. Shard. Plus intervening clutter of course.
Over to the far left of the station view photo you can also make out the towers of Docklands. But they aren’t that special to look at. If it weren’t for the pointy one, you’d hardly know how to spot them, because they’d just be a few anonymous lumps. What Docklands needs is a mega-skyscraper of a distinctive design. Maybe a thin tower, with a huge revolving restaurant at the top. Something along those lines. But I fear that the nearby presence of City Airport would make that impossible, for the time being anyway.
I always know when I am on the right track as a blogger. It’s when someone quotes me. (It’s usually either the Quotulator (I was most recently quotulated by him in this posting) or 6k.) This means (a) that I have said something interesting and somewhat novel, and (b) that I have said it well. (b)-ing I do, on its own, regularly. I regularly say obvious, banal, boring things clearly and fluently. Don’t we all? Nobody copies and pastes (b)-ing. Frustratingly, I also do quite a lot of (a)-ing on its own, meaning: I say something interesting, but say it very badly and confusingly, with constant self-interruptions, this paragraph perhaps being yet another example of (a)-ing. Nobody quotes (a)-ing either, because it just confuses and irritates people. You have to do (a)-ing and (b)-ing all at once before you get quoted by anyone.
So, if 6k has just been quoting me, I must have said something good and said it right, right? And 6k has just been quoting me:
First this, from earlier this week:
I still hate and fear golf.
And then this, from the posting that that recent posting linked back to:
I remember once having a go at it, when I was at my expensive public school in the middle of the last century. I still remember hitting one golf ball really sweetly and deciding, right then and there, that I would never do this again, because if I did, there was a definite danger that golf would take over my entire life. And I wasn’t having that.
Sadly for me, though, this is not the perfect piece of writing that I yearn to contrive, every time I place my fingers above my keyboard to start to type in this stuff. It was not, that is to say, the blogging equivalent of a perfectly hit golf shot. (a)-ing and (b)-ing were not perfectly combined. There is one crucial word missing. Where it says: “… there was a definite danger that golf would take over my entire life”, I should have put “… there was a definite danger that playing golf would take over my entire life.”
Playing cricket, as a life-time occupation excluding all else besides doing whatever work was needed to stay alive, never appealed to me, for the simple reason that I was always hopelessly bad at playing cricket. A cricketing life would have been a life of constant humiliation at the hands of all the other, better cricketers. The occasional well flighted off-break or decently played single out to extra cover would not have begun to compensate for all the contemptuous fours and sixes hit off me (if and when I ever bowled) or the flying stumps (if and when I finally got to bat). You can’t play cricket alone, against only yourself. You have to have opponents, and if these opponents are almost always better than you, you aren’t going to have a huge amount of fun.
But playing golf is different. Basically, no matter how they dress it up, golf is, or at any rate can be, a solitary game. It is a game you can play against only yourself, and for me that would be a fair contest, rather than the permanent humiliation that me playing cricket regularly (by its nature, necessarily, against other cricketers) would have been.
6k notes that do I “love cricket”, and I do. But to be more exact, what I love is following cricket, not playing it. And following cricket, at any rate the way I like to follow it, fits in perfectly with me also having a life doing other more meaningful things besides following cricket.
What I love about cricket is, yes, the game itself, but also the minutiae of its progress - the verbal commentaries and the numbers and the dots, the runs and the wickets, the constant flow of data.
Football is not like this, for me. The actual processes don’t appeal to me nearly so much. All that passing and tackling and dribbling and creating and missing half-chances. These processes only really matter, to me, if they result in a goal, and in a way they only matter to anyone if they result in a goal. With football, it’s only goals that count. Only goals determine who wins. And only the goals really speak to me, so I prefer to watch, if I watch football at all, the recorded highlights of football, and the more highlighty the better. (This is not an argument that you should stop loving football or playing in or going to watch football matches or watching entire games of football on your television. I am merely describing how football does and does not appeal to me.)
Cricket, on the other hand, and unlike football, emits this constant gush of truly meaningful information, information which all adds up to winning or losing. And I relish the decoding of this information in the same way that an MI6 analyst must relish being able to tell what is happening out there also only by looking at data on a computer screen.
I only ever actually attend a cricket game as a special and very occasional treat. I wouldn’t want to watch cricket, for real, in person, at the actual ground, day after day. The very second-hand and rather arms-length nature of cricket data is, for me, all part of what fun it is to be receiving it. Having played enough actual cricket in my extreme youth to have the game imprinted into me, like a first language, I know how diabolically difficult it is to do what good cricketers do routinely. When, as happens from time to time, my computer screen announces a “w” (somebody just got “out"), I feel the same lurch of emotion that the real spectators and participants enjoy or suffer. When I see a “4” reported at Cricinfo, and then read some guy telling me that it was a good shot rather than a mis-hit, I get almost the same pleasure from that as I would have got from actually seeing it.
Especially entertaining is if, say, an IPL team needs to clobber a boundary off the final ball of a T20 game (never mind – it’s just a sort of cricket game) to win, but will otherwise lose, and then a “6” shows up on the screen. Hey, how about that! Or, if a limited overs win-or-lose, no-draws-allowed game ends with, say, one team needing three to win off the last two balls (I seem to recall something like this happening in the IPL a couple of days ago), but with only one wicket left, and the penultimate ball suddenly announces itself to have been a “w”. Game over. Wow.
(Although, I have to admit that a big spread of Premier League games on a Saturday afternoon, with goals erupting quite regularly, and then final whistles all being blown in a sudden rush, is fun, provided your team’s circumstances mean that you have firm preferences for several of these games rather than just the one game. Lots of significant games then adds up to something almost as continuously amusing as a single game of cricket. To me. (This is not an argument, see above ...)
I know, all very childish. But following sport is rather childish. And there’s nothing wrong with such childishishness provided that it doesn’t totally take over your entire life and turn you into a permanent twelve-hours-a-day seven-days-a-week child. Because, what I especially love about following cricket is that I can combine it with other things. Life, when I am following cricket, can go on.
I can now even carry a 1960s mainframe computer around with me in my pocket. I can keep up with any games of cricket that are happening while being out and about in London, meeting colleagues and friends, and taking photos. My cricket machine even doubles up as an A-Z map, complete with a blue blob that says “you are here”. Amazing. In short, and although there are days when it threatens to, merely following cricket has not totally taken over my life. There are even days when my real life is so diverting that I neglect cricket entirely, and have to catch up later.
All of which means that when 6k says that what puts me off golf is its pleasure to pain ratio, and that he feels just the same about cricket, and how come I don’t? - well, with respect, and all my fault for failing to clarify the difference between playing golf and following cricket, but he has it all wrong. Following cricket is continuous squirts of fun into the texture of everyday life, all pleasure and no grief. Playing golf threatened continuous squirts of pleasure, but no everyday life at the same time. It threatened a completely different life for me, and an utterly vacuous one, like being a drug addict (very like being a drug addict), with all my spare time and spare cash consumed by it. Like playing outdoor solitaire, all the time and not doing anything else, and perhaps even stealing money to fund the habit. (I am also terrified of actual drugs, for the same reasons.)
Because the thought of playing golf during every spare hour I had filled and fills me still with such horror, I have even avoided following golf, for fear that merely following golf might become a gateway drug to actually playing golf. You want continuous data? Golf, like cricket, supplies a constant gush of it. But cricket data never says to me that I ought to pick up a bat or a ball and start trying to play the game, again. I know my limitations. Following golf? Well, I just can’t take that risk.
I just spent about an hour working on today’s posting, but it got stuck, and complicated, as postings will. So here is a shiny car to fill today’s void, photoed this afternoon, in Mayfair:
It’s the younger, racier brother of this shiny car, which I encountered in 2015.
I still hate and fear golf.
Incoming, from “Phani”, to Cricinfo, during this game:
“Raina is trying too hard. Take a cue from Mccullum, start timing shits instead of forcing them. Be there till the end, not the usual batting paradise this.”
At the end of the ninth over of the Gujurat Lions innings, if you don’t believe me. I’m guessing it will remain thus.
It’s never good to be forcing your shits. On the other hand, being too rigid about the timing of them is often what leads to you forcing them. Like Raina, you find yourself trying too hard.
And a Happy Easter to all.
You hear this phrase a lot, along with its twin “No, yeah …”. Sportsmen in particular use this phrase a lot, especially cricketers.
A couple of days ago, I was sitting having a drink with a friend, and I heard a regular human being at a nearby table use this strange expression. And straight away, I listened to myself in amazement as I immediately explained to my companion why people, especially cricketers, say this. I had no idea why this nearby person had said “No, yeah” - or was it “Yeah, No”? - but quite suddenly, it became clear to me why cricketers so often talk like this.
Consider the following example, from earlier today. Gareth Batty, the captain of the Surrey cricket team, is speaking about Surrey’s fine win, completed this morning, against Warwickshire, in a four minute video that you can watch at the Surrey website, here.
Surrey’s two best players in this game were, first, Mark Stoneman, who made a big hundred which enabled Surrey to get a big first innings score of 450 odd, and second, another Mark, Mark Footitt, who wrecked the Warwickshire first innings reply, with figures of 9 overs 2 maidens 14 runs 6 wickets, which are very good figures. Footitt in particular was a match winner. A batsmen can make sure his team doesn’t lose the game, but a bowler can, often with brutal suddenness, win the game, and Footitt won this game, in one brilliant afternoon of bowling. He got Bell and Trott, both recent major England batsmen, both for ducks, in one over. Warwickshire never recovered. Yesterday Warwickshire batted quite well in their second innings, Trott in particular, but it was too late. This morning Surrey got Warwickshire’s last few wickets and won by an innings.
So, of course, Gareth Batty was invited by his video interlocutor to agree that Stoneman and Footitt had been brilliant, as they had been. But Batty had something else he wanted to say. He wanted to say, and did say, that this was a team effort. Everybody contributed. We all hit the ground running in our first game of the season. Well done all of us. Well done all our hard work in training, all that pre-season effort in the nets, and all that. And when he’d finished saying all that he said how great the Surrey fans had been. Message: we all pull together. Not a few individuals. The team, in fact the entire club and its supporters.
So, before all that, by way of introduction, how did Batty react to the claim that he should be singling out Stoneman and Footitt for praise, and also be talking about a brilliant catch by Borthwick to get Bell out when Bell looked like staying a lot longer with Trott than he did and threatening to save the game, and giving Borthwick a name check also. By saying: “Yeah, no …” You can hear him say this just over a minute into the video.
What gives is that Batty is saying “Yeah” to the inescapable facts being presented to him. Stoneman and Footitt did play brilliantly. Borthwick’s catch was also superb, and a game-changer. So he is not going to disagree. So: “Yeah”.
But: “No”, because Batty wants to say something else instead, which he then says.
The “root cause” so to speak, of the Yeah, No, No, Yeah thing is that typically, when sportsmen are being interviewed, they are knackered, and have had no time to think what the hell to say, and in any case mostly don’t make a living doing sport after being top of their class at school in elocution, and they have to be helped. And the way that sports interviewers help sportsmen is typically by supplying them with a ready-made answer and asking them to agree. But often, the sportsman, while not wanting to contradict exactly, doesn’t want fully to agree either. If he personally did brilliantly (that often being why he is picked out to be interviewed), he doesn’t want to deny that he did indeed do brilliantly, exactly, but he would rather say that it was, you know, nice to do well, and pick out a few other team-mates by name who also did quite well. So, he starts by saying “Yeah, no”. Yeah, he did well, but no, not that well. He of course thinks that he did brilliantly, sure, but he doesn’t want to say it, because then everyone, and especially his team-mates, would think he’s a arrogant pillock.
Batty, today, agrees that two particular guys, whom he makes a point of not naming, did indeed do well. “They don’t need me to tell them” how well they did, is how he puts it, and then talks about the whole team. By saying “Yeah, no” at the beginning of all this, he is neither wholly agreeing nor wholly disagreeing with the “question”. He is more, as it were, sculpting, modifying, diluting, shifting the emphasis of, changing the balance of, what has just been put to him. Yeah, it’s not wrong. But no, he wants to say something else.
Before we entered the Royal Opera House to endure and eventually to enjoy Die Meistersinger my friend and I wandered around Covent Garden, and chanced upon a shop selling artfully decorated skateboards, in other words looking like this:
As soon as I was inside this shop I asked if I could take some photos, and they said: snap away. So I did. I took the above photo first, which gives an idea of what it was that got my attention. And then I took a lot more, of which the following were the least worst:
I know. Lots of reflections in the shiny surfaces of the skateboards. But, you get the pictures.
A cat is involved (1.3 in the above clutch). A rather rude cat, but a cat. At first, I thought I ought to hurry the posting up and have this ready for last Friday. Then I thought, no, wait until next Friday. And then I thought to hell with that, I’ve nearly done it, I will post it when it’s done.
These artistically enhanced boards have all the relaxed and unpretentious exuberance of graffiti, of the sort I most regularly observe in Leake Street under Waterloo Station. You don’t have to read some idiot art-speak essay to find out what the hell this or that skateboard is “about”, even though it is sometimes obscure. “SHAKEJUNT”. “HAND IN GLOVE”. “FIVE BORE”. “FLIP”. You probably have to be a skateboarder to get what words like those mean. Which probably explains why I like the giant TV remote the best. That I definitely understand.
However, a magic ingredient that separates these skateboards from graffiti is that the skateboards come with added property rights. Once you’ve painted your own particular skateboard, that’s how it stays painted. Which means you can really go to town on it, make it really great, confident that some other artist won’t paint over what you’ve just done.
There is also the fact that a skateboard, unlike graffiti, can be moved hither and thither, which means it can be bought and sold. This means that politically sane people will gravitate towards decorating skateboards and political ignorami will prefer graffiti, property rights and civilisation being things that go hand in hand, as do attacking property rights and barbarism. Sadly, this does not necessarily mean that the skateboard art will be better, because mad artists are often better than sane artists. Plus, you can now add the magic of digital photography to graffiti, thereby preserving it. But as art objects, these skateboards will, unlike graffiti, be profitable and permanent.
Here’s the final photo I took, complete with the guy who said I could take all the other photos, despite knowing I wasn’t in the market for a decorated skateboard, but was merely interested in an art gallery-ish way:
I asked this guy for a card or something, so I could put a link to the place here, as I have done, see above. He didn’t have anything on paper. But then he thought: have a bag:
And that’s how I knew what the shop was called and where to find its website.
I hope this posting doesn’t do any harm to this enterprise, for example by diminishing its street credibility. Do things still have street credibility? Or, to put it in more recent parlance, is street credibility still a thing?
Incoming from Michael Jennings, who encountered this sign at (a?) (the?) Jodhpur Fort in Rajasthan:
Hm, what to do?
Easy. Use a drone instead.
LATER: See first comment. It’s this:
There can only be one fort like that.
Categories updated to include Architecture, History, Sport, and War.
Blog and learn.
I spent most of today watching rugger on the telly.
In the first game Italy got beaten by France, and in the second game, Italy got slaughtered by England.
Just kidding. It wasn’t England v Italy. It merely felt like England v Italy. What it was was England v Scotland. It was a brutal game and several players, both English and Scottish, got smashed out of it. The difference being that while Scotland have about three superb players around which they have constructed a fine team, England have more like twenty superb players with which they have constructed an even finer team. Scotland lost one of their best players today. England also lost an equally good player, from an illegal tackle early on. England carried on as if nothing had happened. Scotland were utterly deranged and demoralised.
England were also riled up and determined to do really well, because although they now win every game they play, people had been saying that their last few Six Nations wins were not very good wins, especially the previous one, against actual Italy, where Italy had done some weird stuff with the rucks and had England all confused. People were saying that Scotland, who have been playing really well, had a decent chance of beating England, despite the fact that the last time they won at Twickenham was in the reign of George III or whenever.
England looked excellent from the kick-off, and I think I must have felt that they were going to win convincingly even then. I say that because, after about two minutes, one of the Scots did that illegal tackle, so illegally that they were saying he might be red carded rather than merely yellow carded, i.e. sent off for good instead of just for ten minutes. And I caught myself hoping that he wouldn’t be sent off permanently, because that would spoil the game and mean that England’s inevitable win wouldn’t mean anything. Much better for England to win against the full fifteen, was my feeling. Which England duly did.
But those who said England might lose shouldn’t feel bad, because predicting the Six Nations is a mug’s game. (The only certainly right now is that Italy will get beaten by everyone else.) I mean, put it like this. Today England smashed Scotland. In the previous round of games, Scotland hammered Wales, and yesterday evening Wales hammered Ireland. So, England should have no trouble at all hammering Ireland, in the final game of the tournament, right? Not necessarily. The other way of looking at these three games (England/Scotland, Scotland/Wales, Wales/Ireland) is that in each of them, the home team won. And when England play Ireland, the home team will be Ireland. England have now beaten France, Italy and Scotland at home, but they only just beat Wales away, with a last gasp try.
But here’s an interesting fact. Take a look at all the results so far. Remove all the Italy games, all lost by Italy no matter where they played, and you are left with just one away win, in the form of that Wales/England game. All the other games between the Not Italy Nations have been home wins, apart from that one Wales/England game. If England can score another away win next weekend, they’ll be very worthy Six Nations 2017 winners. They already are the winners.
My guess is that next weekend, England will manage the second of their only two (and the only two) Not Italy Nations away wins of the entire tournament, that Scotland (in Scotland) will smash Italy, and that France (in France) will beat Wales.
If you want success “you should strive to be happy first of all …”
My comment on the Six Nations so far
Guess what this is
An important game and only a game
Flats (plus a fantastic Super Bowl)
Punched in the face by comedy
London rules the Premier League
To Tottenham (7): Building the new Spurs stadium
To Tottenham (6): The Spurs Shop
Supporting England in the Big Bash League
A new stadium for Chelsea
Man in suit and swimming cap
Wembley Arch lighting contrast
Just the top of the BOT … but still instantly recognisable
Photoing Tate Modern from the Oval and the Oval from Tate Modern
A direct hit
Centre Point and surroundings as seen from the top of the Tate Modern Extension
The Wembley Arch and The Wheel
Views of Epsom and views from Epsom
A day in BMdotcom heaven (5): My belated photo-tribute to Kumar Sangakkara
Another fine day at the Oval (4): Scoreboards old and new
Another fine day at the Oval (3): A slightly different seat and a slightly different view
Another fine day at the Oval (2): Jason Roy – and an extreme contrast
Another fine day at the Oval (1): Vans
The draw that turned out not to be
Comparing London then with London now (and the Oval then with the Oval now)
Why I like Cricinfo
Lions - Bears - Blackhawks
A good morning
Played 6 – Won 0 – Drawn 3 – Lost 3
A souvenir screen capture
Looking in at the Zaha Hadid Design Gallery in Goswell Road
6 6 6 6
South Bank views
Today I am checking out the Big Olympic Thing
Memo to self: photo-destination required for tomorrow
A busy day and a collection of Big Things
I slept right through it
Enjoy it when you can
Quota sculpture made of plastic milk bottles on the South Bank in 2012
Out and about with GD1 (6): The journey gets properly started
Standing on boxes to interview Irfan
A Morris Minor advertising a ping pong night club
Quite a line-up in New York
Union Jack mirror in a Tottenham Court Road furniture shop
The culling of the Northern Hemisphere
I am now really enjoying the Rugby World Cup
England rugby and London soccer
Early thoughts on the Rugby World Cup
A day in BMdotcom heaven (4): A tale of two penultimate overs
A day in BMdotcom heaven (3): Adverts
A day in BMdotcom heaven (2): Surrey v Notts was played in front of a live studio audience
A day in BMdotcom heaven (1): One early picture
Shiny little car
Golden Cheesegrater with cranes
No wicket in fourth over shock
One day cricketers playing at test cricket
Out and about with GD1 (5): Stoke Newington’s Amazing Castle
Phil Tufnell paints cats!!!
It continues (well)
It begins (badly)
Out and about with GD1 (3): Baritone borrows my charger
Cats and cricket – cats and drones
You can tell that drones have arrived because now they are being turned into a sport
England crush NZ (and Surrey beat Leicester)
The new Wembley Stadium under construction plus a white van
An interesting front page story
Strange London buses
First test against NZ – first day
Is rugby the new squash?
Bizarre designer furniture in a Covent Garden window
Michael Jennings on the likely progress of the Cricket World Cup
How bet hedging explains the perpetual terribleness of everything
I said it twelve years ago
Triple Chess and a Four Wheeled Pedal Board
It feels like Sunday already
Some batsman – some neck
BMdotcom (mathematical (and sporting)) quote of the day
I’m an adjective!
Home advantage and hoping for the best in the World Cup
Early tries by my guys
Only with a computer
On meeting an American lady friend who likes to read my stuff about cricket
On not letting either God or (the other) God do everything
The localness of London’s weather
Brazil 0 Germany 5 after forty minutes
My favourite Tour de France in London photo
More Big Things from the Oval
Big Things from high up at the Oval
Will England get lucky?
Surrey doing rather well shock
Quota photos of and from Tate & Lyle Park
Compact Cats buried under London’s poshest homes
Last night at my place
0.080519 would still have beaten 0.074163
Cricket news: Surrey win – IPL – The Big Wosname
Premier League soccer news
T20 fun and games
England ahead of the game in Rome - but in the end not by enough
Cricinfo just said it didn’t rain in Port Elizabeth on February 24th until after lunch
Ashes Lag recovery continues
Games lovely games
Strata quota photo
Will Kevin Pietersen now play lots of cricket for Surrey?
England crush Australia and keep the Ashes
Talk at Christian’s – then NFL on the telly
“O my Hornby and my Barlow long ago!”
On having written about the 1958/9 Ashes series before the 2013/4 Ashes series had started
Tough going in Australia
Jane Austen’s naval brothers
Ashes to ashes
Gloomy Earl’s Court picture
Broad thrives properly on getting abuse
Conquer the Pillars of Islam
Ashes black out
Who was the youngest batsman to reach 7000 runs in Tests?
Otherwise blogging (and a Burgess Park butterfly)
Stuart Broad has a kitten heel
Why I admire short term weather forecasts but why cricket people don’t
Chess set made of London’s Big Things
A day in and around Olympicland with Goddaughter One
Australian selection inconsistency and getting the causal link the wrong way round
Quite a morning
Monty Panesar: “I piss on your short pitched fast deliveries aimed at my body!”
Australian cricket is doomed! - or maybe not
Women of Japan – better luck next time
Should Broad have walked?
On the pleasure of assuming the worst
Samir Chopra on how match fixing turns cricket into not cricket
Funniest run out ever?
Wembley Arch with balloons and with umbrellas
Me and the Six Nations under the weather
Six Nations joy
Monopoly Cat replaces Monopoly Iron
Me going to bed causes collapse
Carnage at Adelaide
Australia v South Africa starts now
Surrey win their relegation battle
A memorable scoreboard surrounded by empty seats
Surrey might not be relegated after all
Back there and now back here
Usain Bolt takes photos of photographers!
Self portrait with sunburn
Well that was close!
Surrey have a short but sweet day against Sussex
Latest C4 logo sculpture
Nerd spin talk overheard by Jarrod Kimber
The Big Olympic Thing from nearer
Steve Baker MP
Ancient and modern (but mostly ancient) cars in Regent Street yesterday
More NFL Fan Rally pictures from last Saturday
That Clive Woodward gets around
NFL fans and their name-and-number shirts in Trafalgar Square on Saturday
The England rugby aftermath
Jarrod Kimber on biased cricket commentators
France beat England
England squeak through against Scotland
Another Surrey fast bowler gets an England call-up
Davies and de Bruyn get promotion for Surrey
How England have dropped catches yet still won matches
WWWhat a great afternoon!!!
Does Kevin Pietersen have a weakness against bowlers?
The boy from Egham Dunn good
Today there is cricket and there is cricket
Friday link dump
Meaning in sport
The fluctuating fortunes of Praveen Kumar and the devastating impact of Lasith Malinga
Rugby shirts on drugs
The most celebrated sporting win ever
NZ doing a bit better than England
New bridge in Melbourne
Ireland beating England in Dublin
Pronouncing on the Six Nations
Ireland lose - England trying to
Sportsmanship by us – bullying by them
Crushed cricket minnows - missable soccer goals - Ashton’s swallow diving
Bouncing bombs and spinning cricket balls
Thoughts on England not just keeping the Ashes but winning the series 3-1 (with asterisks)
Australia so nearly 55-0 (plus thoughts on the impact of Twenty20 cricket)
Boxing Day morning at the MCG
No wickets in the first over shock
The Ashes: chickens and now a swallow
How quickly the mood can change!
And it resumes …
A down and up weekend
More blood to Australia
First blood to Australia
Ashes highlights on ITV4
Twenty ten twenty ten
Greenies make a video saying: “We’re a bunch of vile greenie-nazis!”
I don’t usually approve of swear blogging but …
Zaltzman on Clarke
Andy Flower urges England fans not to punish cricket for being corrupt
Ten thoughts about the Pakistan cricket corruption story
Graeme Swann on drink-driving charge after 3am dash to save kitten
Big Singapore Thing
Cricket technology and its imperfections
Farnborough (5): Supacat Bloodhound Falcon
Snappy quote from Victor Davis Hanson that may or may not actually be true
Another world cup photo of photographers
Photoing the World Cup
On cricket and death
Strata from Waterloo
Cricinfo gets its clock in a tangle and Pyrah bowls an unforgivable no ball
A response to the cyclist menace
England beating Australia – Germany beating England
Curse you Friends Provident t20
Balls balls up
A serious disappointment
Lucky we didn’t go to Lords
Cats and bridges on Pixdaus
Surrey are now crap at cricket but they are sitting on a gold mine
Muralitharan and Hayden carry on doing badly
London is about to be Kapoored with a big new Olympic Games Thing
Six lions on a white Mercedes bonnet
Watching IPL cricket beats watching England play rugby
IPL on ITV4!
Separating the men from the toys - the future of warfare and of sport?
Is Martin Johnson another Kevin Keegan?
Nasa and Gordon Brown both have their uses
Reds against Blues in Munich
Cricket talk tonight
Two New York stadiums temporarily next to each other
Three more headlines and how the internet remembers it all
Andrew Hughes on making heroes of cricketers
London cricket roof clutter
India looking good against Sri Lanka
Talking with Toby Baxendale
Forget the fifth of November - and the Brown curse strikes (again)
Graeme Swann - twitterer but no twit
Gordon Brown dithers about rugby - cricket’s on the up
Making the IOC feel important with a personal lubricant
The curse of Gordon Brown is now ruining the England cricket team
When Cricinfo doesn’t supply the info
Changing faces of Europe
More recorded cricket chat and some further Oval hindsights
How the BBC ignored the problem of how to pick two from three equal-ish teams
England and me both upset
Photo by me in a newspaper!
How technology has improved detention
Thinking thin at the top
More sign photos
IPL continues to literally trump proper cricket
At Samizdata: cricket - crime - Kevin Dowd quote
What the previous two postings here have in common
Indian Premier League trumps test cricket
Angleterre formidable - France merde - Italy crap
By bus to Sheffield
It could be a rather small funeral
Cricketers don’t have to get along – they just have to turn up and play
Nothing today but link to Samizdata
A little drunk blogging
Keeping up with the NFL
Another Samizdata piece
Why Willem Buiter blogs and why I do
England sinking fast
Dongling at Michael’s
Metaphor muddle alert
The Great River Race
On the perils of recording to your TV hard disc at the midnight hour
Smog returns to Beijing
Vaughan steps down
Blue sky in Beijing
Collingwood comes through and The Internet is a hat trick
Twenty20 cricket on Sky TV
“The air is apparently not getting better …”
Everything changes today
Posting at Michael’s
Pietersen not humbled
Seven Napiers – three Ansaris - Gilchrist
More Beijing smog-blogging
Bird’s Nest in smog
I predict that Germany will win
I’d be cheering
152 not out in a Twenty20
Guido Fawkes gets Douglas Jardine wrong
New Zealand crumple at Trent Bridge
Bowlers who look like actors
Avoiding barbarism in the street
Bowled Harmison bowled Harmison
Cozier cheers up
First Jaques – then Ponting – then Katich – then Hussey cleaned up
Giant table football table and hamster powered cars
They play a lot of snooker in China – and in Essex
The IPL is a new face for India but Harbhajan slapping Sreesanth is no big deal
Head Men need to be a bit wrong in the head
Slow day here
News Media Coalition versus Indian Premier League
Ramps carries on where he left off last autumn
Fourth innings heroics
Meltdown in Russia … and New Zealand
Ed Smith on how baseball defeated cricket in America
Thank you very much Ambrose and Collingwood
It really is about bloody time Jonathan Davies learned how to pronounce Jauzion
Watching paint dry at the end of a Six Nations game
Me talking about the great twentieth century musical divide
Lucky I don’t take cricket seriously
Flat horse pictures
Billion Monkey Maria Sharapova lookalikes!!!
The Lord is watching
Democracy for sale – starting with football and beer
Weather to go out
Rain stops Murali
Probably not right - but definitely written
I hope I’m wrong about this
More rugby talk
Ramprakash at his level of competence
Australia out! – New Zealand out! – pass forward!
The blue and gray men are slaughtering the gray and blue men
Nine points better than last time!
Alisher Usmanov is now better known for being nasty
When inimitable means very imitable
Lots of links
Cricket lovely cricket
Test match special
Depressed about the Windies
Bicycling Billion Monkeys!
Surrey crash to earth
Maybe not quite so amazing after all
“A fitting end to a very badly organised tournament …”
A double cricket surprise
Old gits at the Oval – and Shane Warne
Cricket blogging by me elsewhere
He’s for ever blowing bubbles
Cricket is ruining the youth of India!
Footbridge in the dark and cricket
Four Nations still in it!
Clever old Catt
An improbable England win in the Six Nations
Tall chess men and tall buildings in the evening
“You will struggle to ever see a better caught and bowled than that!”
Displacement photo of Billion Monkey!
That Rooney goal
Empty football stadiums on TV
Pictures of the world for the world
Ashes 2005 to Ashes 2006/7
Alice in Texas on form - England in Australia not
In a bad way - but recovering
They are only games
Foreigners on film
Not much here today
“Are you telling me I don’t know my own brother?”
Podcasting with Adriana tomorrow
Lords pictures from last Monday
Something to bore everyone
England versus Pakistan – first test – final morning
“We are looking for a Cricket obsessive . . .”
Antoine gets Mexican election right
I’m hot and I’m happy
Twenty20 Sri Lanka and World Cup ejection
Quota photo and Surrey weirdness
Ethereal India photo
Cricket with landmark
Big Media crap and football cock-ups
County cricket - great and not so great - and what to do about that
It is very hot
Dnalgne no emoc! - Billion Monkey snaps mental Maradona!
Latest Brian and Antoine elections around the world mp3
Wisden on the back foot
Zooming in on the Wembley Arch
Chinamen playing cricket
So does Flintoff really look like Jessop?
The latest Brian and Antoine mp3
Lightning strikes twice
Disaster in Paris
Unplugged and writing about sport because sport Doesn’t Matter
Blogging takes a back seat
Only a game
More ancient rock and rollers photographed from off of the telly
What it was only better
The father of invention
The Superbowl is live on the telly!
The animal spirits of Six Nations
Organised games as a way to control boys
I will never flirt with religion again
I am now thinking of abandoning atheism
Vive le rugby
The new stand at the Oval
Pictures I took of yesterday’s Ashes celebrations in Trafalgar Square
Douglas Jardine and Spike Milligan