Project Hope 218
Posted on
July 07, 2013 by
Rev. Stuart Campbell
Archive for the ‘sport’
More research needed 175
Posted on
July 06, 2013 by
Rev. Stuart Campbell
We won’t do any more of these after this one, honest. But we couldn’t help noticing the Director Of Research for “Better Together” posting this sorry whinge of a tweet last night, unable to resist a chance to have a snipe – however petty – at the First Minister of Scotland for wishing a Scottish sportsman well on behalf of the people of Scotland:
Mr Aikman might want to poll a little wider before repeating that claim.
British together 131
Posted on
July 03, 2013 by
Rev. Stuart Campbell
Blimey. We were going to write about devo-max or something this evening, but we’re more emotionally drained than Ivan Lendl after a night at Riverdance from watching that incredible Andy Murray match at Wimbledon.
With Andy playing like a blind monkey flailing at moths for the first two sets and Fernando Verdasco hitting the ball like he’d found it in bed with his wife, the tension was almost unbearable for the whole three and a half hours before a magnificent display of character and skill finally saw the No.2 seed through to the semi-final.
Luckily, the watching-through-our-fingers pain was eased just a little by the knowledge that our fellow Brits from south of the border were suffering through it along with us.
The Not-So-England Club 38
Posted on
June 25, 2013 by
Rev. Stuart Campbell
A comment from a reader sent us off on a spot of Googling this morning. If you type nothing but the word “Wimbledon” into the search engine, the top result isn’t actually a link, but instead some sort of unclickable wired-in tournament schedule data.
A striking feature of the data is the national flags beside each contestant. We couldn’t help wondering what would happen if we typed in Andy Murray’s name.
The Olympic enclosures 1
Posted on
July 25, 2012 by
Wings Over Sealand
As the sun made its first appearance of the summer at the weekend, Wings over Sealand wasn’t slow off the mark. On the “B” of the “BANG!”, we leapt onto a train for a scenic two-hour journey to the seaside, specifically the lovely south-coast town of Weymouth. It’s a remarkable place, changing character every time you turn a corner.
The front is a traditional resort promenade, with beaches and ice-cream stands and arcades. Just behind it is a picturesque working harbour town, tatty fishing boats mingling with some extremely fancy millionaires’ yachts. (Don’t miss the tasty and gigantic battered faggots at Bennett’s On The Waterfront fish and chip shop, by the way, the closest thing you’ll find to haggis in an English chippy and heavenly with a splash of onion vinegar.) Adjacent to both is a scruffy but bustling town centre, almost entirely free of the empty shops littering every other urban conurbation in Britain.
And if you embark on about five minutes’ leisurely stroll from the western end of the prom or the busy, noisy harbour and marina, you’ll find the town’s only sizeable area of public green space, in the form of the beautiful and peaceful oasis that is The Nothe.
