“How touching to have the meaning of Christmas brought to us by cola, fast food, and beer. Who’d have ever guessed that product consumption, popular entertainment, and spirituality would mix so harmoniously? ”
Bill Watterson, The Essential Calvin and Hobbes
Last one of the year for me, time to rest the digits. Thanks for reading and have a great Christmas.
Like most oldies, my Mum can be a bit forgetful these days, then again, so can I. The other day I had what I considered a bright idea to help her; I would get her a message board and abandon her reliance on bits of old paper scattered all over the house. I rushed to the local junk shop – B&M – before I forgot.
Seeking to avoid my pet hate – Amazon.com – I ended up at this empire of utter tat albeit mixed in with some real gems. The locals were out fighting for the latest shite from China to calm Brandon and Britney down on Christmas morning as they sat in matching festive pjs and tattoos.
I greeted my Mum with drill and toolbox in hand, clutching my bargain.
“Who’s are those?” she asked, her memory still alive enough to remember her eldest’s utter ineptitude ant anything remotely practical. I tried to convince her of my new found abilities but she gave me the look I’d seen many times before.
A couple of screws later and it was up, hanging up to be precise, for how long who knows? Fortunately I had bought extra pens as the one with the board was drier than my Mum’s wit. She considered it for a while and gave me an approving nod.
I knew then she would never lift a pen to it until her last day.
The Beautiful Game?
A recent BBC investigation – see here – on Championship football displayed the precarious state of the clubs competing for the ultimate goal of Premier League status.
It is a fascinating read, not least given that locally, Bradford City and Leeds, have flirted with financial disaster in recent years. The ultimate losers – ask Bury FC – are always the fans, who seem to matter less and less when the big bucks stakes are rolled.
I fear cricket is about to tread the same patch as the new television deal kicks in next year, tripling the money flowing into the game. Why would that be a problem you might ask?
Well, the reality – take the state of grassroots football for instance – is that the money typically flows up stream rather than down.
It leads also to arrogance as far as the views of the humble fan is concerned. That is why the ridiculously conceived The Hundred format will take centre stage next summer, pushed along by the money train, the principal beneficiaries being the now portable and for-hire players.
Sod identity, sod the custodians of the game that keep it alive, sod anybody who does not think that a game imagined by a two year-old could be anything but bad. And by the time the penny drops enough pockets will have been lined to render accountability futile.
Paradise By The Dashboard Light
A wonderful story here from the local rag – ‘Don’t Come Here To Have Sex’ – with a cheeky quote from Plod.
Sergeant T Green tweeted: “…vehicle seen on Lee Lane in Bingley engaging in sexual activity…didn’t think a “bottom” ID was appropriate, so a S59 warning was issued. Don’t come here to have sex. It’s not nice for the locals to see.”
Cricket’s Golden Moment
The choice of Ben Stokes as BBC Sportsperson 2019 was an obvious one, few matching his singular heroics at any sport this year. Coupled with two other awards for the game and you might think cricket was riding high.
It should be but cast your mind back to 2005 as England finally won back the Ashes for the first time since 1987. What did the ECB – English Cricket Board – do to capitalise on this momentum? It sold the game lock, stock and barrel to Sky TV.
Roll forward and the two formats that so captured the public imagination will next year be marginalised to accommodate a game show concept for those with an IQ in single figures.
The common denominator, as ever, is money!
The Toughest Game Of All
I am not a rugby league fan but my heart goes out to the ex-Leeds Rhino, Rob Burrow, diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease at the age of 37. One more moment to contemplate the fragility of life. Live it while you can.
And Finally
Alarming news here that my home town has the second worst pass rate in the country again when it comes to taking the driving theory test, new figures have revealed.
And those figures only include the one who actually take the test. Makes you so proud of our youngest population in Europe claim to fame.
Till next year!
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