Monthly Archives: August 2024

Glorious Losers and a Glorious Winner

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How about this for a story? Athletes who meet the standards for Olympic qualification have been denied entry by UK Athletics, who have imposed a series of higher requirements. If we were an all-conquering nation of athletes with talent oozing out of our ears this would make sense. But we aren’t. We have produced some great performances from people who have given their all (and established records and personal bests on their way to defeat) but they have left us with great memories rather than medals. These days this is what it’s all about.

My best performance in athletics was qualifying for a 2 Star certificate from the Amateur Athletics Association. That’s 2 out of a possible five. The previous year I had got one. But it had made me try harder for the second year, and I was planning on trying even harder for the next year.  They were discontinued and my interest in athletics fell away.

The moral of that story turned out to be that people are motivated by awards and that I am shallow. It was meant to be that I have no skill in athletics and am trying not to criticise individuals. However, it is undeniable that we have been soundly beaten in many events. It has not, in many of the cases, been that the athletes have failed, simply that other people have done better.  I can feel a song, and a title, coming on . . .

A breakfast fit for heroes

The reason UKA has these extra standards is that  ‘an athlete getting to the Olympics with little chance of qualifying from their heat or pool does not have a significant impact on inspiring the nation, and therefore does not merit public funding‘.

This is clearly nonsense, as they don’t know what will inspire the nation. I’ve been inspired by a 51-year-old skateboarder and a Nigerian cyclist, (including a story of German sportsmanship), and by a long-jumper who came fifth and has a full-time job. Yes, I’ve been inspired by some of the winning athletes, but a lot of them have left me wondering what happened to the Olympic spirit.

As I’ve said before, the losers are often the ones you remember. Apart from this one. Here’s a winner that will make you smile. She used to train at the athletic club with my kids, and went to college with one of them, so we like to see her doing well. Read to the bottom and look at her hairstyle.

There’s a petition here. I don’t usually hold with such things but now and again, I do. If you are in the UK, read it and please think about signing.

I needed some photos and wondered how to string three together in a series, as I have no photos of athletes.

 

Good News Stories

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I wrote a couple of posts for yesterday, but decided not to use either of them.  After that I pottered about on the internet and forgot to post anything at all. Today I haven’t done much either. It’s 1.30am and I am only just sitting down to do some blogging work.

Last night I had a poem accepted for Cattails. I didn’t get round to submitting anything for the last issue so even though I was struggling last month I made an effort to submit some haibun and some tanka prose. I have had a haibun accepted. It needs a different title, which I’m struggling with, but apart from that it’s all good. This means I’ve had two acceptances from three submissions, which is good.

10p – B is for Bond

On that subject, I’ve just had one published in drifting sands haibun. I’m on page 42, with The Thoughtful Pig. 

I’ve been wandering around the internet searching fro inspiration and notice that Nigeria entered the track cycling for the first time at the Olympics. It was a last minute thing, as places suddenly became available, and they had no suitable track cycles. The Germans lent them one for the race, which was kind of them, and a throwback to the South Africans and Eric the Eel. It’s good to see, amongst all the politics, technology and money, there is still time for a heart-warming story.

The backdrop of Paris has made this a memorable Olympics, though the lack of VAR in the clay shooting, the gender confusion in women’s boxing and the pollution in the Seine have all detracted from the event.

10p – P is for postbox

As for the results and our place in the medal table, it’s been a bit disappointing as we have constantly come out on the wrong side of narrow margins and haven’t quite performed as the pre-games hype suggested. We did, however, have a 51-year-old skateboarder. At the time I thought he sounded a bit American. It turns out that he lives in America, was born in America, but has an English dad. However, nationality and athletes is a complicated subject and I don’t have the time or the enthusiasm to go into it now. It was good to see someone doing it for the enjoyment and he was quite clearly enjoying himself.

10p – F is for Fish and Chips

Famous Wilsons, Churchill’s Aunt and an Olympian

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Cambridge University Press – final melt

Today I concluded the first in a series of new posts which I want to do. They may well be more tedious than my general ramblings, or, possibly (though it is unlikely) more interesting, as long as you are  interested in Baden-Powell’s visit to see the Scouts in Australia.

I’m practicing writing about medallions so I have tried to keep it tight. If I’d given myself free rein I would have covered the story of Lady Sarah Wilson, one of the world’s first female war correspondent. She was also Winston Churchill’s aunt. Recruited by Alfred Harmsworth to work for the Daily Mail after his previous correspondent was arrested by the Boers.

She was sent away from  Mafeking for her own safety at the start of the siege but was captured by the Boers and taken back, where she was swapped for a horse thief who was being held by the British. Before you ask, your guess is as good as mine – I don’t have a clue why they wanted a horse thief or why they went to the trouble of capturing Lady Sarah. She later worked in the hospital at Mafeking, was wounded, and decorated with the Royal Red Cross for her nursing work.

Cambridge University Press

She was working in a hospital in France in 1914 when she received news that her husband, Lt Col Gordon Chesney Wilson had been killed in action, leading his near Ypres. He was interesting too. People were in those days. Wilson helped tackle and arrest the would be assassin that attacked Queen Victoria at Windsor railway station in 1882 when he was a schoolboy. This was the eighth attempt on her life. I’ve written enough now and will leave Wilson and Queen Victoria to you, Look up Herbert Wilson too, one of his brothers – soldier, treasure hunter, and Olympic medal winner. More about him here. Reading about him, it is fitting that he died in one of the few mounted actions of the Great War.

One day I may write a book about how i pressed a button on Wikipedia and emerged several days later, awash with tea and blinking at the daylight.

Pictures are, again, random – August 2019.

Red Kites

 

Baden-Powell Visits Australia (and Other Places)

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Lord and Lady Baden-Powell inspecting the Girl Guides at Southampton Docks.

On Friday 16 January 1931, an honour guard of 100 Boy Scouts and Girl Guides lined the Southampton quayside to see Lord and Lady Baden-Powell set sail on the SS Rangitata. They were to visit Australia, New Zealand and South Africa in a trip lasting until July. Having enjoyed his previous trip, he was looking forward to seeing how the scouts had developed.

The largest gathering in New Zealand attracted 30,000 people (13,000 being Scouts or Guides). The population of New Zealand was, at that time, just over 1.5 million people. Though we tend to know him as the founder of the scouting movement, Baden-Powell was still a war hero to many people, and well known for the Siege of Mafeking, where he and a small garrison of badly equipped troops held out against the Boers for 217 days. It is debatable what military value the siege actually had, but it was portrayed as a much needed victory when the British were badly in need of good news and the lifting of the siege was greeted by street parties in London. The founder of the Scouts of New Zealand, Lieutenant-Colonel David Cossgrove, has served with Baden-Powell in South Africa.

After that, they moved on to Australia where, on 21 March the biggest scout rally ever held in Australia at that date took place on Randwick Racecourse, Sydney. There were 14,000 (or 18,000 according to another report) Scouts, Guides, Cubs, and Brownies and up to 40,000 spectators. The march past consisted of a column marching eight abreast, which was reported as a “splendid spectacle”. It took over an hour, from 3 pm to 4.15 pm for the entire column to pass.

At the end of the event Baden-Powell made a speech and read out a message from the Prince of Wales (the future Edward VIII) and his sister Princess Mary.

It was for this part of the visit that the 32 mm silver medallion was produced by Stokes of Melbourne, a well known Australian manufacturer.

The visit to South Africa also went well, and Sir Montague Burrows was able to read out a message from Baden-Powell at a meeting of 4,000 young people at the Kingsholm rugby ground in Gloucester, including how the movement had helped a disabled girl in South Africa to pass her knot tying badge. She had no arms but learnt to tie knots with her feet.

They returned from their 6 month tour on Monday 13 July aboard the liner Kenilworth Castle, and reported that the movement was thriving in Australia, New Zealand and South Africa. “In organisation, numbers, and efficiency we found the Scouts and Guides remarkably good , ” he said. “They are fully appreciated by the authorities, Governmental, Church, and educational . ”

The numbers involved were – New Zealand—11,000 Scouts and 11, 400 Guides. Australia had 41,000 Scouts and 21.000 Guides. South Africa had 15,000 Scouts and 14,000 Guides. Modern figures (which do not count boys and girls separately are 12,000 in New Zealand (2020), 52,000 in Australia (2022) and 54,000 in South Africa (2022). It’s fair to say that although numbers have generally fallen, particularly when viewed against population growth, Scouting still has a significant membership, even when competing with TV, video games and social media. This is particularly true in South Africa, where Nelson mandela was a supporter of the movement and its educational aims.

Lord and lady Baden-Powell would return to Australia in 1934 for the 1935 Jamboree held as a celebration of scouting, and as part of Melbourne’s centenary celebrations. They would also spend a month in New Zealand as part of that trip. They would also visit the 1936 South African National Jamboree in East London, which is sited, confusingly, in Cape Province, South Africa, rather than London.

A Moral Dilemma Sort of Day

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Looks like I spoke too soon in the matter of my application for a part-time Masters degree. I should have known better than to try to rise above my station. The battle of intellectual proof was one I was prepared for, but I’d forgotten the grinding certainty of bureaucracy.

They have replied, not with a decision on whether I can apply with my qualifications (or lack of qualifications, depending on which way you look at it) but with a demand to see my certificate within seven days.

Well, you know me. I have a house full of junk. How am I going to find a certificate within seven days? I only remember seeing it once or twice in the last 35 years. I’m also moving house, as you know, and have some things in storage.That might include my certificate. I honestly don’t know.

For one thing, they don’t need a certificate to give me a decision on whether they consider my qualifications to be adequate. For another – seven days! Why seven days? This country is going to the dogs. Ever since lockdown all the petty tyrants, the jobsworths and the wannabe dictators have been making up rules. You want proof, fine. But demanding it within seven days is not realistic. And finally, do they not think that if I were making a fraudulent application I would just use desk top publishing to knock up a fake degree certificate for a 2:1 in History from a Southern African University which closed down 20 years ago under the restructuring programme . . .

. . . no, forget that. The trouble with such flights of fantasy is that they don’t sound too good when introduced to the court in evidence. Let’s just say that it would not be too difficult, if you were that way inclined, to produce a realistic degree certificate from somewhere that no longer exists.

Sometimes I wonder why I bother being honest.

Photos are from August 2017 – apart from that they are unconnected to today’s blog.

How Many Photographs?

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Sunset over Sherwood

If it takes a million bad words to reach a stage where your words are good, as I noted in my last post, how many photographs must you take to reach the same level of excellence. I used to think I was a reasonable photographer, but recently, after a break, I’ve found that my photography skills seem to have withered and died. I can still spot a good photo, apply the rule of thirds, lead an eye into the photo etc, but I am having difficulty actually using the camera.

Sunset over Screveton

In the days of SLR and film I had a problem with the picture that developed not being what I thought I had seen through the lens. These days I have that problem multiplied. Though it’s generally easier to match the two images because the screen tends to show what I see, the colour matching is variable. Sunsets are a nightmare as the camera tries to remove the beauty in an effort to make everything average. Even soups, as I have demonstrated in various blog posts, can appear very different, as vibrant orange becomes beige and verdant green becomes eau de nil.

Carrot & Ginger Soup

Carrot & Ginger Soup

At that point I resort to trickery and add colour using the various buttons the camera provides, except for the “new” camera. It isn’t that new now, but I didn’t use it for work on a daily basis and have never developed the ability to find all the features. That’s what I mean about losing the ability to use the camera – it’s a Canon, rather than an Olympus and I can’t get my head round the navigation. I suppose I will eventually become accustomed to it, but by that time I imagine I will have worn something out and will need to buy another.

Carrot, Parsnip and Swede Soup

Photos are, predictably, sunsets and soup.

A Million Bad Words

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No, not a post about swearing, though it has been tempting today. It’s the Stephen King, or Ray Bradbury quote about having to write a million bad words  before you can get to the good stuff. I just checked. I’ve written just over 1,200,000 words, To be fair, they probably mean a million considered words, rather than a million knocked out on WordPress and then posted with typos, repetition and little concern for quality. I am going to call it a good start and stop procrastinating. It’s time to get serious. However, that’s for tomorrow.

Of course, I had to waste time by checking the source of the million word idea, though the various writers may all hve come up with it individually. David Eddings, Jerry Pournelle,  John D. McDonald and Marion Zimmer Bradley have all said something similar. The link takes, you to an article about it, in case you have time to waste. Stephen king isn’t mentioned in the article, he crops up on the internet. He’s a sort of modern Churchill or Oscar Wilde. People just love attributing quotes on writing to Stephen King.

Most of today has been taken up with writing to banks and building societies and the Land Registry. It should be a simple enough job. Experience suggests it isn’t going to be as simple as I think. It never is.

The University of Wolverhampton has already written back, they want to see my Diploma to prove I have the qualification I claim. Apart from the annoyance that they have basically accused me of being a liar, and that they didn’t ask me before I applied, we have the problem of remembering where I had it last. I remember it being in a board backed envelope and I remember saying “I’d better put that somewhere safe.” I just don’t remember where I put it. To make things worse, they have only given me seven days to send it. I’m beginning to think that they don’t want me. I’m also beginning to think that, seeing as I have told them I merely want to establish that my educational credentials will suffice at this point, and am in the middle of moving house, that they don’t read things you send them.

My Orange Parker Pen

 

Inside My Head

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Today, as part of my poetic revival, I have two great ideas for poems. I’m hoping that I will remember them soon because as soon as I thought of them, I became diverted. One was forgotten as I came downstairs, the other was forgotten as I looked for a pad to write it down. They may come back. Meanwhile I am going to make sure that I carry a notebook everywhere. I am also going to write in block capitals.

On a brighter note, I had an acceptance from one of the July submissions. That cheered me up.

Pigeon in the Park

I am also going to write the story of how Number Two Son started a rugby team at school. If I write irt properly it may be picked up as a film script like the Bad News Bears or The Mighty Ducks. It would be nice to bolster my pension with some film revenues. I would move the location to somewhere warm and specify that I get played by Russell Crowe.

I know, after suffering through Robin Hood, that he can’t do a Nottingham accent, but he is sound on his rugby  I once wrote to his agent offering Nottingham Outlaws as a possible promotional partner for the film but despite his love of rugby and links to Nottingham via the Burgess brothers (who played for his team – Sydney Rabbitohs) Their dad used to play for Nottingham City RLFC. Despite the obvious synergy, his agents declined to take us up on the offer. Well, to be accurate, they didn’t even bother to reply.

Moon Landing Medal by Vincze

Finally, the big news is that I have taken a significant step in taking charge of my retirement. I have applied to do a part-time Masters Degree in First World War History. They wouldn’t give a me a direst answer on the question of my qualifications and suggested I should just apply and see how it went. So I have done. I In 1988 I handled a 12 month post-graduate course which was full of wannabe high fliers and I managed to hold my own. My brain has probably slowed down a bit, but I have crammed it with a lot more knowledge so I’m not worried about that aspect. It’s going to take one Saturday a month for two years, which is hardly a killer schedule, though I suppose they will want some essays and a dissertation. I probably should have checked that before applying. On the other hand, if I thought about it, I probably wouldn’t do it.

Shakespeare Medallion by Paul Vincze

Photos are just a miscellaneous grouping selected from August 2019, though I’m not sure they were all taken then.

Lessons from Sherlock Holmes & Alf Tupper

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Did I have a bad day yesterday? Yes, I did. However, I tend to ignore that side of things. I expect it, I’ve been brought up to ignore the bad bits and, most importantly, nobody wants to read a blog post crammed with bad stuff. I expect, in one way and another, everyone has more than enough negativity in their lives and, having coped with it, don’t need to read more about it.

So, in Holmesian style, having eliminated the negativity, whatever remains, no matter how small, is positive. I started the day with ideas for several poems and had several more as I went through the day. I had toast and marmalade twice and successfully hid my delinquency from Julia on her return home. And finally, I had a great hour in the afternoon researching Eric the Eel and reliving some of my Olympic memories, which, as you can guess, are not about winners.

I also spent some time reading up on Alf Tupper – “The Tough of the Track”. He was the runner of my youth, tough, uncompromising, fair and, unfortunately fictional. Despite this lack of actual flesh and blood he is till real to me, and his spirit lives on. In a world where private education still confers an advantage. Seven percent of the British population is privately educated, but over 30% of our Olympic medallists come from private schools.

I’m very tempted to tell you the story of how, against all odds, Number Two Son formed a rugby team from a bunch of misfits at his inner city state school before leading them to win the City Championship and reach the final of the County Cup, defeating several private schools on the way.  But I won’t.

 

Eric and Eddie and Paula

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Wasps

Do you remember Pieter van den Hoogenband from the Sydney Olympics in 2000? He won Gold in the 100m freestyle with a time of 47.84 seconds. You’d have to be a top class quizzer or a swimming fan to know that.

But if i ask you if you remember Eric “the Eel” Moussambani, I bet you remember him. Three months before the Games he answered an advert for swimmers to try out for the national team, which had been given a wild card entry. Two people turned up – Eric and a lady called Paula Barila Bolopa. They were both selected. With little preparation time, no coaches and, more importantly, no Olympic size swimming pool, they started to train. Eric asked someone at a hotel to coach him, and was able to use the hotel’s swimming pool between 5 and 6 am. It was a 12 meter pool. The rest of his swimming was done in a river (sharing it with crocodiles) and in the sea, where local fishermen gave him coaching input. They didn’t see an Olympic size pool until they arrived at the games.

Painted Lady

He came last on the day, in swimming kit given to him by a South African coach, and he needed oxygen after finishing, but the Australian crowd cheered him on, even when he thought of giving up. The crowd turned out to cheer Paula on too, a few days later. Both swimmers recorded the worst Olympic times ever in this event. But they both tried and they are both Olympians, which is more than I am.

Eric  Moussambani did improve, though he never troubled the upper reaches of the sport, and he eventually became National Coach of Equatorial Guinea, a country which now has two Olympic size pools.

In subsequent news reports he was compared to Eddie the Eagle Edwards, another famous Olympic loser. Eddie the Eagle had a rule named after him as the sport tried to keep him out. But it didn’t really matter. As with Eric the Eel – who remembers the winners.?

I think it’s a Roesel’s bush-cricket