Murrayfield

Our Man with beer in hand and singing the Scottish and Italian anthems

This afternoon, the Scotslady and I made our way to Murrayfield Stadium to see Scotland take on Italy in the Six Nations. This was an important game for both sides. The winners would give themselves a chance of building upon the result to finish at least in the mid table at the end of this year's tournament. The losers would, in all likelihood, be looking at winning no more than the wooden spoon.

As we passed the stadium on the way to the pub for a pre-match drink, we saw plenty of Scottish and Italian fans. Tartan kilts are usually worn by Scotsmen but today both sets of supporters appear to have taken them on. There were fans in funny wigs, face paint and wrapped in flags.

The pub was absolutely heaving, so we stayed for one drink and then made our way to the stadium. There, we set about looking for the Murrayfield war memorial. To find out why, see the comments box of the last post. The search was easier said than done as the only monument of any note that we could find was a clock tower. Was that it? Asking the stewards where the memorial was elicited no more than a confused stare: clearly they were staff hired just for the day.

A walk round the stadium yielded no result, so I popped into the merchendise shop where I availed myself of the opportunity to buy a Scotland shirt. I expect rewards for this, Gilraen!

As for the game itself was perhaps not the greatest that ever there was, but still entertaining. All the more so as I had the Ref Link, which allowed me to listen to the referee as he spoke to the players and Touch Judges. Very useful as I was also providing the Scotslady with a running commentary of the game - her first live one!

One of the highlights of the match was seeing Italy Scrum Half Paul Griffin in the flesh. He has cut off his dreadlocks but still retains those distinctive sideburns.

The game was closely fought but once they moved into the lead, Scotland did not look like they would lose. At half time, we went to the clock tower to await Paulinus. To Paulinus I must say that I am afraid to say that while I knew it was not the war memorial it appeared to be the only monument in the vicinity of where I was told (in the shop) it was so that's why I stayed there.

Fortunately, Paulinus spotted us from the real war memorial - which turned out to be an arch not far away - and came with the most holy gift of beer for the Scotslady and myself. Thus we were for a few minutes before the second half started able to enjoy a mini-bloggers get together!

The second half saw Scotland consolidate their lead and Italy never look like they were going to threaten it let alone take it away. We even saw the wholly unappitising sight of uncontested scrums after one of the Scottish forwards was forced off the pitch.

I am pleased to say that the Scotslady enjoyed her first game. Meeting Paulinus at such short notice was a very good bonus. I hope you enjoyed the match and had a safe journey home!

Edinburgh

by Our Man North of Watford

I have to come to Edinburgh to see Scotland play Italy in the Six Nations Rugby tournament. With me is the Scotslady. This will be her first rugby match. How lucky she is to see a rlive game of rugby for the first time!

My day began at 5:05 this morning. I was up with my alarm - pleasing to Berry Cat. There then followed by a general flinging of clothes into the travel bag. and, of course, a feeding of the moggie. In keeping with the general spirit of unpreparedness, though, Arathorn wondered why I was up so early. For my part, I accidentally switched the washing machine on when actually I meant to switch it off.

Leaving home, I made my way to Kings Cross station where I borded the 7am to Glasgow. In coach E, I played musical chairs with myself as first I decided that I was sitting in seat 64 then 32. It often helps to consult the London to Edinburgh ticket rather than the return.

In the mid 90s, I am sure the train took at least five hours to get to Edinburgh. Now, it is just four. The time and England whizzed by and before I knew it, I had reached Edinburgh Waverley Station.

Stopping to text home and Gilraen, who is currently in the Caribbean, I sauntered towards the Scotslady's office near the Scottish Parliament. Speaking of which, it will be lucky if in twenty years it does not have the same poor reputation as 1960s council estates everywhere. The building is rather imaginatively designed, but there is too much concrete for my liking.

Work prevented the Dorsettian Scotslady from joining me, so I retired to a pleasant pub on the Royal Mile called the Canon Gait. There, she joined me. Now, she is back at work again and I am writing this on her macbook computer!

Walking to her flat while carrying my own travel bag and her computer was an interesting experience. I felt for a while not unlike Mr. Justin Quayle on his own adventures. which is odd because he did not travel with etither of those things. At any rate, I am thankful that no evil pharmaceutical company or dodgy government minister was chasing me.

Rome!

I am sure you have all heard of the Catholic version of Mornington Crescent? It is, of course, called "Rome!" In North Carolina, it is called "The Path to Rome", in France, Switzerland and Italy and, surprisingly, the Democratic Republic of Congo, it is known as "The Road to Rome". But wherever you go, the objective is always the same: to get to the citta aeterna in as few moves as possible.

The game is popular in Catholic circles across Britain, although rumour has it that it was surpressed at the offices of the Tablet soon after 1965 when they entered a dead end, which the paper remains in to this today (reversing is possible Miss Editor!).

There are many versions of the game. One of my favourites is the Galileo - Bellarmine Reverse Thrust (telescope) version which encourages early daring in return for the opportunity to carry out double moves later on. Make sure you have the Holy Office on your side though or you will come a cropper. The apogee of the GBRT(T) version was in the cafes of Mont Matre in the 1870s (See Sedgwick Rome! In the Age of Revolution Oxford 1942).

But enough of history. With Manchester United playing Inter Milan in the European Cup tonight, I have been playing the game according to the 1999 Nou Camp Rules. In this version, you do nothing all game and make your move at the end. It is, in its own way, the modern version of the Blitzkrieg 1940 game without, obviously, the bloodshed. Thus, I forewent my first twenty moves, swung low (like a sweet chariot*) across the atlantic to Lourdes, hid in the grotto to avoid making another move before traversing the Alps to Turin with Pax Travel. My opponents thought I would have to pass through Florence, but they forgot that I could invoke the Dante Variation. In doing so I was able to shout, Rome!

Well, okay, Lazio, but they were protestants so couldn't possibly know the difference. Good fun.

* Slightly controversial I know as this song is associated with the Rugby Rule Rome Rules but allowed when invoked with a prayer.

Cally's Miscellany

More developments in Finigangate. The Tablet has asked Fr. Tim to take down its article on Mass at Blackfen parish citing reasons of copyright. Of course, The Tablet is well within its rights on this matter, although since Fr. Tim is not benefitting financially from reproducing the article, its approach becomes rather a matter of using a sledgehammer to break a nut.

Elsewhere, I was listening to Radio 5 the other night when I heard an interview conducted by Mark Saggers with the chairman of one the county cricket sides. Should Giles Clarke, chairman of the ECB resign because of the Sir Allen Stanford mess? Saggers asked. Well, no, said the chairman. The deal was good, due dilligence was carried out to make sure that Stanford could pay the money that he offered, everyone was happy. Mark Saggers, normally a very good sports presenter, then became very shrill indeed as he attempted to build up a controversy where, as far as the chairman was concerned & at that moment as far as I could see, there was none. It was all rather feeble.

One important question I have not heard answered though: Allen Stanford is a Texan. How does he get to call himself 'Sir'?

Mars Hill has some quality catches for the XX Questions! If the questions could be fleshed out a little, some of the collection would make a neat little book. Speaking of fellow bloggers, the best wishes of Cally's Kitchen and all within her go to Alex Hilton, Labour blogger, who is in hospital after coming down with a very nasty bug indeed. I hope he makes a speedy recovery.

Dakar 2007

I have been watching the official review of the 2007 Dakar Rally. Nothing can stop the race itself from being completely mad and very exciting, but in its short length and concentration on the race to the total exclusion of behind-the-scenes action, the DVD video was a little disappointing.

The race takes place over a couple of weeks with cars, motorbikes, trucks, quads and even Hummers taking part. Some of the teams are sponsored by major car manufacturers, others are privateers - individuals who have managed to get the money from anyone willing to sponsor them - to take part.

Given the wide variety of entrants and the individual challenges that they all face a review of the Dakar could provide hours of coverage. Instead, the DVD covers the race in fifty minutes (the whole European leg - from Lisbon to Morocco - seems to be over in a minute or two) and spends no time looking at the individual contestants apart from on the course. Yet there were some major drivers and riders involved. For example, Marc Coma and Cyril Despres in the motorbike class. This was a real missed opportunity.

Allowing for the DVD's limitations, it was still most enjoyable to watch the cars and bikes bump and crash their way over northern Africa, thankfully staying clear of people, but knocking over a few plants along the way. Amazingly, some of the competitors even made it to the end! Perhaps the DVD works best as a compliment to Charley Boorman's Race to Dakar, which I mentioned on this blog last October and which gives a brilliant insight into the Dakar Rally and what it takes to race it.

Trouble Up Pill

Every so often, I think about the links on this blog and whether or not I want to keep them. They are there because to one degree or another because I like the blog or website; if that support is reduced to a quantum level, which then disappears, the link goes. This happened recently with one particular website. It was a shame, a very great shame, but in the end, what I did not like about the website completely negated what was good there so it went.

I won't name that website - it is popular enough not to need or worry about my publicity! - but I will name another one that, if I do not remove it, has blotted its copybook these past few days. That, of course (if you are a Catholic blogger) is The Tablet. In this week's edition, the journal published an article that was critical of Fr. Tim Finigan's liturgical reforms at his parish in Southwark, S. London. You can read all about it at his blog here. Fr. Zuhlsdorf looks at the article at his blog here.

Everyone is entitled to their opinion but if you are going to publish something a commitment to the truth is essential but not the only thing that is required - fairness to the other side is also necessary. Presumably The Tablet believes it has been truthful in its article, although after Fr. Tim's response this is extremely debatable, but I would find it very difficult to believe that The Tablet could believe itself to have been fair.

Describing the (re)introduction of the 'traditionalist' touches to the parish as having split it when the numbers of those against the Old Rite are no more than a dozen, the decision to negatively report of the counting of Mass numbers, the omission of evidence regarding the way Novus Ordo Masses are celebrated and the complete lack of critical distance by the reporter from Fr. Finigan's critics is all very, very disappointing. It cannot be acceptable that they are allowed to air their views without them being challenged. Fr. Finigan was required to explain himself to the reporter, in the interests of fairness, so should they.

The way some traditionalist Catholics talk about The Tablet, it would seem that the journal is beyond redemption, but I refuse to believe that. I am quite sure that the Tablet's journalists are as capable of writing good journalism as are those of the Catholic Herald. That belief makes this lapse in quality is deeply disappointing. My prayers go to the Tablet for the grace to be fair and to Fr. Tim and his parish - for unity and love.

Grinding out a victory

Harlequins 14 Gloucester 9My first visit to the Stoop since the beginning of January saw Quins dominate the territory but still only score a narrow win against the Premiership leaders. The shape of the afternoon was defined by two penalty misses from the normally reliable fly half Nick Evans. One was awkward but the other fairly straight forward. Matters improved considerably, however, when he broke out of the Harlequins' half with the ball in hand and tore up the field, dodging Gloucester players as he went and selling the odd dummy, before touching the ball down behind the Gloucester goal posts.

That was the high point of the first half for the home side. Slowly and surely, Gloucester clawed their way back into the game with two penalties either side of the half time whistle from their own fly half, Ollie Barkley.

After Nick Evans' try, Quins performance became scrappy and somewhat disjointed. Thus, when Barkely scored his third penalty, it began to look like Gloucester would be the match winners. This feeling grew as Evans' second half replacement, Chris Malone, missed a couple of penalties of his own. Gloucester are a strong, strong side - surely they would punish Quins for missing 12 points against them?

But no, they didn't. Gloucester did not score a try. And whereas it looked like Harlequins' first half try would be their only one, late in the second half (typically!), Tom Williams crossed the try line to prove me wrong.

The weather was mild in Twickenham - perfect for rugby, but at the 'business end' of the season, perhaps it was inevitable that this would be a rather cagey and tight game. With that said, it was good to see David Strettle back on the pitch, following a long lay off for a metatarsal injury; even more pleasing was seeing him buck the trend with one or two mazey runs.

Prior to the match, Harlequins' placed multicoloured flags around the stadium for the fans to wave. After weathering a period of Gloucester attaching play at the end of the match, Quins won a line out and kicked the ball into touch. The flags sprang into manic life. Harlequins remain in fifth place in the Premiership and still with a chance of making the play offs.

Against the Fighting Irish

London Irish 9 Harlequins 14

Irish are contenders for a play-off place this year, so Quins' win was a very useful one. It also allowed them to leap frog Leicester Tigers into fifth place in the Premiership and put a little space (four points) between themselves and Saracens in seventh place.

Watching the Six Nations on Sunday, I saw an Italian player execute a perfect clothesline on an Irish player - send him to the American Wrestling - but as I gasped for air on the Bob Harris machine in the gym last night (see Lost in Translation), I watched Rugby Club on Sky TV. They showed clips from the Irish-Quins match, including the rather feeble scuffle that led to Irish hooker David Paice being yellow carded.

Unfortunately for Paice, as he walked past the referee, the red mist came over him and he said something not quite like, "I do apologise Mr Wigglesworth; when I come back on, I will behave better." As a result, the referee showed a red card. As in football, it meant that Paice was sent off for the rest of the game.

Unlike football, the red card is very rare in rugby union. Checking this blog's search function, I note that two Quinsmen have received them - DeWett Barry last March (I remember that tackle. It looked bad at the time - hence the referee's decision - but in replays less so) and Nick Easter in February 2007. Let's hope, for the sake of a good game, this card represents 2009's quota.

To their credit, London Irish did not collapse following Paice's sending off in the 22nd minute. In the end, they earned themselves a bonus losing point. But to their loss, something else that they did not collapse was a Quins rolling maul which crashed over the line for a great try later in the game. I love rolling mauls, but because the new experimental laws make them easy to bring down, we don't see too many of them now. Woe to the ELVS!

Tomorrow, Harlequins have a very tough game against Gloucester. I'll be at the Stoop for the first time in ages to see the match. In the meantime, what is one to make of the flight of the Wasps players to France? French clubs have no salary cap like here. But can we complain? After all, English clubs have been using money to prize some of the cream of Southern Hemisphere talent for some time now. It is a bit of a conundrum.

An Artistic Interlude

Courtesy of Petrarch's Muse.
Can you see the special effect?

Alexander Obolensky

Last year, I mentioned Prince Alexander Obolensky - the Russian Prince who played for rugby for England. What I didn't know was that a statue of him was being made to be erected in Ipswich, where the Prince was buried after his death in 1940. BBC On-Line has a report and a short video of the unveiling. As for the statue, the heads and shoulders 'action pose' of Obolensky carrying the rugby ball is great, but why is the rest of his body encased in stone?

The Daily Telegraph claims some credit for the statue. Well done to their readers and none other than Mr. Roman Abramovitch who contributed money for the cause!

The Word on the Street

Following on from the British Humanist Association bus "There is probably no God..." adverts come the Christian response. The first time I saw it I blinked twice and wondered if I had imagined it, but no, L. saw the same, so it was clearly real. The message read, "There definitely is a God. Now join the Christian Party and enjoy your life."

Well done to whoever dreamt that riposte up, but two issues spring to mind in connection with the advert. Firstly, I was under the impression that the BHA had to use probably instead of definitely to get round advertising regulations. So, how have the Christian groups got away with their reply?

Secondly, the riposte is in the exact same format as the BHA message. Copyright issues there surely?

The American Civil War (II)

On this Valentine's Day, Ken Burns' The American Civil War might not seem the best place to seek out love, but amidst the violence, there was one profound and memorable example. Sullivan Ballou was a Major in the Union army. He wrote this letter a week to his wife before his death after the battle of Bull Run (1861).

... my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.

The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar—that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.

But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours—always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.

Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.

Read the full letter at Wikipedia.

The American Civil War (I)

I am in the middle of watching the excellent documentary series The Civil War - the American one, that is. The year is 1862. Following a bloodless shoot out at Fort Sumter in South Carolina, there has been one major battle: that of Shiloh. Many more are to come. Ulysses S. Grant wins the day for the Union at Shiloh, though with no thanks to General McClellan who has been a bit of a do nothing general so far. Also out in the field is William T. Sherman, who has yet to institute his scorched earth policy of waging war. The most disconcerting thing about watching this series, however, is the opening credits, which begin thus (verbatim): "The Civil War was made possible by grants from GM Motors...". Well, talk about the military-industrial complex!

Snow fun for a cat

For Petrarch's Muse, here is the myrmicat in action earlier this week. In case you are wondering, that snow is not actually on his head!

Thank you to Gilraen for the picture!

Accept No Imitations!

Fake World Champions

So, what is it with Americans and hyperbole? All congratulations go to the Pittsburgh Steelers for winning the LXIII'd Superbowl on Sunday, but what possible grounds do they have for declaring on their website that they are the World Champions? Manchester United are the best football club in the world, and they earnt that title by winning the World Club Championships in December. Pittsburgh, however, have given themselves that title after winning what is actually a national tournament! Of course, it has to be admitted that if there was a World Club (or should that be Franchise) championship, whichever American team took part would not face a great deal of opposition.

Real World Champions

Harlequins do the business

Harlequins 29 Northampton Saints 6

Last week, I was under the impression that Harlequins' next game was not until 14th February. However, the Northamption Saints game - which I had thought was on 28th March - turned out to be yesterday. Woe for me, after last week's failure to get to the Stoop, 5MinJim and I had arranged to go and see Leyton Orient play Yeovil in League One (Division Three) of the football league.

The Mighty Os were hanging on for a draw when in the 94th minute, Yeovil converted a tightly hit corner into a goal. Wyvern hearts were broken. Poor Jim.

Fortunately for me, Harlequins ran away winners against the Saints. Their first Premiership win since the end of November! Better still, the game saw the return to the First XV of David Strettle for his first match since October when he broke his metatarsal (again).

I have now checked BBC On-Line and the next Quins game is really on the 14th. It will be a tought one - against London Irish who, in the blink of an eye, have gone from being a middle order side to one of the best in the league. I'm still not sure how that happened.

America

Walking home from the gym today I found myself contemplating the United States of America. No deep thoughts settled on my mind, just a couple of pros and cons.

Pro
America's vastness. If you wanted, you could pack everything in, junmp into your car and drive, drive, drive. Very liberating. Especially as you would see so many different sights.

The friendliness of the people. I hope this isn't just a media fed perception.

Cons
I have looked at the Wal-Mart website and you appear not to be able to buy Heinz Salad Cream. Bad news as I am addicted to it.

Beer is served in weedy glasses and not pints. Very bad news indeed. I worry that you may not even be able to buy ales.