*Listening to Foreign Office – Voices*
Cricket is not on a T20 life-support machine. It really isn’t. Just check ITV4.
The fad of the IPL and T20 cricket is obviously fading, in previous years the series was inescapable such was the furore, but this year it is nothing more than background elevator-muzak. It’s becoming comparable to mid-table Premier League football, everyone knows it’s there but no-one particularly cares. Test cricket is the top six.
There’s more in this Premier League mid-table analogy than you’d think too. For a start there’s a whole lot of hacking and swinging going on, shots aren’t exactly cultured. Fishing outside the off-stump has become something of a redundant phrase, it’s now more Homer Simpson fishing with dynamite.
Eoin Morgan must look at IPL in disgust at times as classless bludgeoning takes precedence, much like what Jack Wilshere must have thought when he rolled up next to Kevin Davies at Bolton’s training ground. Sure some of the cricket is impressive, but impressive like a dog wearing a hat. Fun at first but it soon gets old. It’s hoofball and cross blade swipes. Inability to catch and David James.
*Listening to The Barlights – Ticking*
“Cheers Darlin’, You give me three cigarettes to smoke my tears away”
Well Damo, I doubt she would now, eh? Not since another Darlin’ has had his say on repairing his cronies’ economic failings.
I don’t smoke, but I don’t want to part with an extra 15 pennies for a pint of cider. No thanks, it’s already too dear, Darlin’.
Hows-about we tax the people who wouldn’t notice? I don’t mean the rich. I mean the stupid. The ones who put the apostrophe in aren’t somewhere around are’nt. Or triples up letters for no reason (e.g. nottt). Or have double buggy’s at the age of 14. Or have just bought Drum’n’Bass Volume 1827 despite it sounding EXACTLY the same as Volume 1. Or people that have spoiler on their G reg, 1.0 litre, maroon/rust-coloured Nova.
Think about it. When Gazzza or Dazzza or whatever young ruffian goes to get his new alloys or go faster stripe or gutter-dressed-as-an-exhaust or mammoth rear wing- sorry spoiler- he’s quite clearly not going to be of an IQ to notice a giant tax on it, is he now?
*Listening to The Whigs – Mission Control*
The world of British sport (How confusing does that sound?) can’t help but set itself up for ridicule can it?
Just take the last week or so, we’ve had a defeat to Lithuania- a nation of three tennis players- resulting in the axe falling on the wrong shoulders; Iain Dowie somehow getting another job in management; one of the worst Grand Prix’s in history; and the endless furore over the World Cup squad.Aren’t we bright.
We really don’t care about the Davis Cup, especially when our only player who knows which end of the racquet to hold pulls out, but give Old Lloydy a break. He ain’t exactly working with the elite of the game, is he now?
To say the LTA isn’t using their budget too well (it’s a budget a Qatar football club wouldn’t sniff at too) is like saying Norwich are going up this season. It’s obvious (optimism isn‘t one of my traits but even Norwich can’t screw this up…).
At least the LTA won’t be bringing in Dowie though. Not only is he the worst manager in my lifetime to somehow keep getting jobs, he’s also the worst pundit in my lifetime to keep getting jobs. For some reason he always looks like there’s someone behind him tugging a rope tied to one of his shoulders.
If I was a Hull fan I’d be absolutely livid. Dowie is probably the only manager who would FAIL to get Norwich promoted from this position. And he’s brought in the ever-so successful Steve Wigley. He may as well just tape on the Championship badges to his Hull players kits now as they’ll be returning (along with the Canaries).
*Listening to Band of Horses – Cease To Begin*
–noun,plural-ties for 3, 5–7.
1. the state or quality of being real.
2. resemblance to what is real.
3. a real thing or fact.
4. real things, facts, or events taken as a whole; state of affairs: the reality of the business world; vacationing to escape reality.
Remember when you could sit down and find something to watch on television at any time on any night of the week and find something to cure the boredom of, well, England? Now, all you can ever watch is this ‘reality TV’.
After a Christmas period of show after show after show of people dancing- of which surely every single hour of wannabe-dancers must have been EXACTLY the same- what have we ended up at?
*Listening to Doves – Kingdom of Rust*
There was a tremendous victory at the TPC Sawgrass, in Arizona recently. No, not Ian Poulter’s and British Golf’s crushing victory in the WGC World Match Play, don’t be so ignorant. Try the media picking up its trophy for finally cracking the games best player Tiger Woods.
Whilst his colleagues battled it out for the $1,4 million purse, a tired, broken shell of a man emerged to beg for forgiveness in-front of a rather uncomfortablly watching world. His voice quaking, Woods concluded that he was ‘deeply sorry’ for being so ‘foolish’ and ‘irresponsible’ for his affair(s). It came as evil delight to the modern-day World media, now all too eager to trounce through the private lives of public figures.
In Woods they’ve claimed their biggest triumph yet. Rachel Uchitel was first up to face the media hounds but was soon old news, her week long denials didn’t satisfy the needy, hungry ‘reporters’. On cue, a host of models, cocktail waitress and pornographic actresses came forward claiming illicit affairs with Woods, cunningly seeped out by the media to keep the story running, such was the desire to tear down one of the greatest ever golfers and idol to millions.
*Listening to Titus Andronicus – The Monitor*
Is there anything quite as despicable in the modern world as the internet ticket tout? Of course there is, but for the purpose of this blog post we shall assume that there isn’t.
Yesterday saw tickets for V Festival 2010 and the Flight of the Conchords European tour go on general release, with both events selling out almost as quickly as they went on sale. 24 hours later and 300 V tickets and 100 Conchords tickets are on ebay at an already massively inflated rate.
I have nothing against the reselling of concert tickets; that is, providing the seller has a genuine reason for sale and advertises said tickets for the price that they originally paid.
Take for example: Scarlet Mist. Scarlet Mist is an ethical exchange website that provides an outlet for fans to sell or trade their unwanted tickets for face value. However, being the only half-decent website of its kind I’ve come across, it appears to be alone in its quest to combat the touts.