From time to time, sport throws up personalities who demand our attention. Riddled with inner demons and an other worldly talent, blessed with good looks and a twinkle in their eye and able to fluctuate between moments of sheer brilliance and moments of utter stupidity in the blink of an eye. While they are with us, we are painfully aware of their fragility and take every day of their lives as a gift from the Gods. They have all the gifts which we all wish were ours and use them with casual indifference. We would give blood for such gifts but such gifts are not meant for the likes of us.
How amazing then that between May 1946 and March 1949, the city of Belfast spawned not one but two such talents. To be blessed with one is the stuff of dreams but to blessed with two is riches beyond compare. On Bloody Friday in 1972 the provisional IRA detonated 22 bombs to mark one of the low points in the recent history of Belfast. 1972. George Best's star was beginning to lose its glow in a mire of alcohol, tabloids and celebrity. The 23 year old Alex Higgins was winning his first World Snooker championship and the future augured well for the future of snooker. The celebrity culture is not a new thing and George and Alex were two of its earliest darlings. In the news today, football clubs are reputedly lining up bids in excess of 50 million pounds to secure the services of 26 year old Spanish striker Fernando Torres. At 26, in 1972, George Best had been there, done that and got the t shirt. Heaven knows what Goerge might have been worth in today's hyper inflated, globalised market. But it is easy to forget that football in 1972 was only ten years into the era of negotiable wages. A decade earlier, Jimmy Hill, then the chairman of Fulham, had fought and won the battle to abolish the maximum wage for professional footballers. From that moment on, the writing was on the wall for football. The balance between playing the game for the sheer love and playing for the money had been irreversibly tipped. It is thus that George Best was one of the last true professionals. Just seven years later in 1979, Trevor Francis was sold for 1 million pounds and the final nail had been hammered into the coffin of the beautiful game. Likewise when Alex Higgins won the world snooker championship in 1972, while he may have only won buttons for his efforts, his explosion onto the scene of a sport hitherto confined to smoky back rooms assured its financial future but paradoxically ushered in the modern professional era which has spawned players of the ilk of Steve Davis and Stephen Hendry.
George Best and Alex Higgins were both from humble working class origins from a city drowning in social problems. It is little wonder then that two lads from such a background as this should be tempted by life's vices as soon as their talent brought in the money. It would have taken enormous strength of character to resist temptation given the experiences of their formative years. It is not coincidental that the most comparable modern snooker player to Higgins is Ronnie O'Sullivan. Ronnie has come from a rough background and his father is serving a lengthy prison sentence. But there the comparisons end. Ronnie earns more now for winning a tournament than Alex won in his career. Enough said. Alex and George were both blessed with genius and knew it was their only passport to escape their native Belfast. Thank God they both escaped and we were privileged to witness their God given talents. An era has passed and more is the pity.
Monday 26 July 2010
Tuesday 20 July 2010
The Big Society
Although the big society is an unfortunate expression doubtless generated by a group of well meaning PR men, it is nevertheless a dream to which we all need to aspire. Already. I can all but smell the deep and meaningful theses being written with wonderful interpretations of what it means.
Its roots are twofold and really quite simple. In the first instance, the Public Sector in this country was allowed to grow into an out of control monster during the last 13 years. Out of control and financially unsustainable. However, what the Labour proved once and for all is that if a societal problem exists, merely throwing money at it is not the answer. The second major thrust of the big society therefore looks beyond money; it looks at people. As sure as people got us into this mess, it will be people who get us out of it. Whether they are voluntary, paid fairly or paid unaffordable amounts, the people must come together and seek a new philosophy. Are people really so dependent on the state doing everything for them? Unfortunately, a lot of damage has been done going back to the inception of the welfare state and the NHS. Today, our society boasts families whose entire membership takes their income from the state and are treated gratis by the NHS. Step back a minute. That sounds too good to be true doesn't it? Well, it very obviously is too good to be true. It perpetuates dependency, it inhibits engagement and it costs in monetary terms more than we can afford. Something has to give.
Already, the new government has indicated its committment to make large cuts sooner rather than later. However, this is only the first step. They have done their bit and now the people must do theirs. The big society wants us to get out from in front of our televisions and chat to our neighbour, help the old bloke across the road, put something back and offer a few hours of our time to a good cause. Above all, we must start to help ourselves and seek what we can do for the community around us. I hear many people who are all too quick to pinpoint what is going wrong where they live but I see all too few doing anything about it. The fact is it will not fix itself. David Cameron is very brave in launching this because I am certain it will take at least one generation to bear fruit. However, he has done the most important thing; he has sown the seed and set the ball rolling.
Its roots are twofold and really quite simple. In the first instance, the Public Sector in this country was allowed to grow into an out of control monster during the last 13 years. Out of control and financially unsustainable. However, what the Labour proved once and for all is that if a societal problem exists, merely throwing money at it is not the answer. The second major thrust of the big society therefore looks beyond money; it looks at people. As sure as people got us into this mess, it will be people who get us out of it. Whether they are voluntary, paid fairly or paid unaffordable amounts, the people must come together and seek a new philosophy. Are people really so dependent on the state doing everything for them? Unfortunately, a lot of damage has been done going back to the inception of the welfare state and the NHS. Today, our society boasts families whose entire membership takes their income from the state and are treated gratis by the NHS. Step back a minute. That sounds too good to be true doesn't it? Well, it very obviously is too good to be true. It perpetuates dependency, it inhibits engagement and it costs in monetary terms more than we can afford. Something has to give.
Already, the new government has indicated its committment to make large cuts sooner rather than later. However, this is only the first step. They have done their bit and now the people must do theirs. The big society wants us to get out from in front of our televisions and chat to our neighbour, help the old bloke across the road, put something back and offer a few hours of our time to a good cause. Above all, we must start to help ourselves and seek what we can do for the community around us. I hear many people who are all too quick to pinpoint what is going wrong where they live but I see all too few doing anything about it. The fact is it will not fix itself. David Cameron is very brave in launching this because I am certain it will take at least one generation to bear fruit. However, he has done the most important thing; he has sown the seed and set the ball rolling.
Thursday 15 July 2010
St. Swithin's Day
Today is St. Swithin's day and any rain today is thus believed to herald forty days of more rain. From a scientific standpoint, this is stark nonsense but from a perspective of great British eccentricity it is irresistable. So far, this summer has certainly been one of the best which I can remember. As I approach my 42nd birthday in November, I and my fellow quatrogenerians remember the endless sultry days of the summer of 1976. That summer, I can not honestly recall seeing any rain albeit I was but a young lad of seven. 1984 was a good follow up with no shortage of heat or sunshine. By coincidence, both of these summers saw the West Indians touring Englnad and the ensuing cricket was as one-sided as I have ever witnessed. England barely even made up the numbers in the face of some of the finest fast bowling I have ever seen. The sight of Michael Holding gliding towards the wicket will stay with me as one of the most aesthetically beautiful visions in the history of sport - I am only glad I was not the poor batsman on the receiving end.
As a nation, we are famously obsessed by the weather and this has much to do with the subtle regional variations which we boast. The lake district will always have its fair share of rain and the East coast counties such as Norfolk will always have less. Ours is a country where travelling small distances can yield large temperature and weather differences. In addition the recent temperatures of 32 degrees in parts of Kent contrast starkly with the recent January lows of minus 15 degrees. Its a wonder we grow any fruit with such massive seasonal swings. Anyway, whether or nor the curse of St. Swithin strikes again, I intend to enjoy the rest of the summer come rain or shine!
As a nation, we are famously obsessed by the weather and this has much to do with the subtle regional variations which we boast. The lake district will always have its fair share of rain and the East coast counties such as Norfolk will always have less. Ours is a country where travelling small distances can yield large temperature and weather differences. In addition the recent temperatures of 32 degrees in parts of Kent contrast starkly with the recent January lows of minus 15 degrees. Its a wonder we grow any fruit with such massive seasonal swings. Anyway, whether or nor the curse of St. Swithin strikes again, I intend to enjoy the rest of the summer come rain or shine!
Tuesday 13 July 2010
Today, I attended a graduation ceremony in North Wales to support my sister in law who has just successfully completed a degree in education. The event took place in the seaside town of Llandudno to a packed auditorium and the special guest was Lord Ellis Thomas, the incumbent speaker of the recently formed Welsh Assembly.
The Welsh Assembly came into being with a majority so slender that Rizla ought to have sponsored it. However, a majority is a majority irrespective of its magnitude and as such deserves respect. One of the corner stones of its legislative intent has been the promotion of the Welsh language. This is a situation riddled with anomalies. The proportion of the current Welsh population who speak Welsh to any degree is approximately 20%. Of these, roughly half are deemed fluent. All schools in Wales are now required by legislation to teach Welsh to at least a basic level with the hope that all children brought up in Wales will have had at least some exposure to the indigenous language. More than any country in the Union, Wales is easily the most reliant on the Public Sector for its employment. Given that the Public Sector is about to be slashed in the years to come, Wales is about to lose its largest employer by some distance. It has been in this workplace that the edict "Ability to speak Welsh essential" has been most prevalent. However, the same edict can't as easily be applied in the private sector. Since we are told that the private sector must grow to sustain our economy, ability to speak Welsh is likely to hold less value in the years ahead.
The graduation ceremony today took place to the backdrop of an audience wearing earphones so that the speeches in Welsh could be understood. In my youth, I attended a Welsh primary school and I can assure you that no such earphones were provided. Thus, I learned the little Welsh I have by just listening to people speaking the language. As far as I know, this is the way most languages are learned. The point I make here is that you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink. So for all the efforts to give Welsh precedence in its own country, it will not alter the natural tide of its slow regression. Events such as today are therefore puzzling to me. The majority of the audience were denied access to much of what was said because they didn't particularly want to don earphones in their own country. I do have sympathy for those whose efforts attempt to keep their language alive and imagine it must be a frustrating process to see their language being slowly eroded.
On the same day, a test match series in cricket commenced at Lords in London between Pakistan and Australia. It is the first time since 1912 that a test match has taken place in England between two foreign countries. On this occasion, Pakistan are the home side on account of security in that country being considered too risky. In 1912, the British Empire was at its zenith and England, Australia and South Africa contested a triangular tournament in the mother country. Now, ninety-eight years later, much has changed and the Empire is but a distant memory. It is now only a matter of time before Australia seeks and attains independence. However, Pakistan being the home side in London is not as daft as it sounds. One legacy of the Empire is the proliferation of immigrants to Great Britain from the former colonies - many of whom still claim membership of the Commonwealth. Mnay of our towns and cities have substantial populations of Pakistani origin and it is only natural that those with such roots should support their mother country. Thus, it seems that culturally, relationships have been turned on their head in the last hundred years. While the support for the Pakistani national side is fervent and passionate, it is not motivated by the effects of alcohol - it does not need to be. The national pride is genuine and does not require a belly full of beer to stir the emotions. Players representing Pakistan must also be aware of how privileged they are compared to many of their fellow countrymen many of whom live in abject poverty. I don't think England players have quite the same feelings of privilege and humility!
I spent many years in sales career surrounded by people who swore that money and wealth was their biggest motivator. I remain amused by this facile belief. Neither has ever motivated me. Personal pride, targets and sheer challenge have always been my best motivators - oh and anybody daring to suggest that I can't! Never fails. Although Australia will be the favourites to beat Pakistan, home advantage for the Pakistanis may hold the key and I wish them well.
The Welsh Assembly came into being with a majority so slender that Rizla ought to have sponsored it. However, a majority is a majority irrespective of its magnitude and as such deserves respect. One of the corner stones of its legislative intent has been the promotion of the Welsh language. This is a situation riddled with anomalies. The proportion of the current Welsh population who speak Welsh to any degree is approximately 20%. Of these, roughly half are deemed fluent. All schools in Wales are now required by legislation to teach Welsh to at least a basic level with the hope that all children brought up in Wales will have had at least some exposure to the indigenous language. More than any country in the Union, Wales is easily the most reliant on the Public Sector for its employment. Given that the Public Sector is about to be slashed in the years to come, Wales is about to lose its largest employer by some distance. It has been in this workplace that the edict "Ability to speak Welsh essential" has been most prevalent. However, the same edict can't as easily be applied in the private sector. Since we are told that the private sector must grow to sustain our economy, ability to speak Welsh is likely to hold less value in the years ahead.
The graduation ceremony today took place to the backdrop of an audience wearing earphones so that the speeches in Welsh could be understood. In my youth, I attended a Welsh primary school and I can assure you that no such earphones were provided. Thus, I learned the little Welsh I have by just listening to people speaking the language. As far as I know, this is the way most languages are learned. The point I make here is that you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink. So for all the efforts to give Welsh precedence in its own country, it will not alter the natural tide of its slow regression. Events such as today are therefore puzzling to me. The majority of the audience were denied access to much of what was said because they didn't particularly want to don earphones in their own country. I do have sympathy for those whose efforts attempt to keep their language alive and imagine it must be a frustrating process to see their language being slowly eroded.
On the same day, a test match series in cricket commenced at Lords in London between Pakistan and Australia. It is the first time since 1912 that a test match has taken place in England between two foreign countries. On this occasion, Pakistan are the home side on account of security in that country being considered too risky. In 1912, the British Empire was at its zenith and England, Australia and South Africa contested a triangular tournament in the mother country. Now, ninety-eight years later, much has changed and the Empire is but a distant memory. It is now only a matter of time before Australia seeks and attains independence. However, Pakistan being the home side in London is not as daft as it sounds. One legacy of the Empire is the proliferation of immigrants to Great Britain from the former colonies - many of whom still claim membership of the Commonwealth. Mnay of our towns and cities have substantial populations of Pakistani origin and it is only natural that those with such roots should support their mother country. Thus, it seems that culturally, relationships have been turned on their head in the last hundred years. While the support for the Pakistani national side is fervent and passionate, it is not motivated by the effects of alcohol - it does not need to be. The national pride is genuine and does not require a belly full of beer to stir the emotions. Players representing Pakistan must also be aware of how privileged they are compared to many of their fellow countrymen many of whom live in abject poverty. I don't think England players have quite the same feelings of privilege and humility!
I spent many years in sales career surrounded by people who swore that money and wealth was their biggest motivator. I remain amused by this facile belief. Neither has ever motivated me. Personal pride, targets and sheer challenge have always been my best motivators - oh and anybody daring to suggest that I can't! Never fails. Although Australia will be the favourites to beat Pakistan, home advantage for the Pakistanis may hold the key and I wish them well.
Sunday 11 July 2010
A Transport Of Delight
During the recent general election campaign the twin themes of austerity and repairing our society were at the forefront of political debate. I contended at the time that rather than being broken, our society simply needs to get to know itself again. The best strategies to acheive this are the very simple ones. Yesterday, I paid my £3 to buy my Route 76 bus ticket and for this small amount of money I was able to participate in a day of social remodeling.
I live in the old market town of Denbigh in the vale of Clwyd. Denbigh boasts at least ten pubs and most of these are "wet" houses which don't offer food. As such, most of these pubs are struggling to remain open since many are tied to breweries whose exorbitant rents and beer prices make earning a living virtually impossible. This is also the plight of the pubs in the surrounding villages. By contrast, however, many of the latter are owned by the landlords and also have varying standards of food provision. The Achilles heel of the country pubs though is a combination of low local populations and the drink driving laws.
So yesterday I paid my £3 and participated in a brilliant piece of innovation. In conjunction with the local council, a group of six country pubs organised a "mobile" beer festival. The bus route is tailored to drop off and pick up at these six pubs for the duration of the day. The narrowness of some of the country lanes requires a smaller bus to be employed and each bus had a bouncer aboard just in case revelry got out of hand.
The first bus to go past my bus stop was full to bursting so couldn't stop! The second one not far behind, I managed to board. From the outset, the atmosphere on that bus was tremendous. Any talk of a lack of community spirit or social cohesion were way off the mark. The high spirits, people talking to their neighbour, laughter and courtesy were a joy to behold. In all honesty, I felt so privileged to part of it, I would have gladly paid double. At one point, at a bus stop in Hendrerwydd for the White Horse Inn, a random dog hopped on and promptly alighted at the next stop to the delight of all the passengers. We had singing on our bus and as we came to stop at the town bus stop in Ruthin, the strains of "Calon Lan" were so loud that the expressions of those waiting to alight were an absolute picture.
I began my festival at the Three Pigeons at Graigfechan because it was the furthest pub from Denbigh. It seems my cunning plan had already been thought of! The Three Pigeons was heaving and it took nigh on half an hour to buy a drink. But nobody cared about waiting because the atmosphere was so friendly and happy. As I wove my way home bumping into old acquaintances along the way, each pub was absolutely full and many had live bands, hog roasts and the like.
Far from having a sore head this morning, I feel enlivened and have witnessed what can happen when heads get together to solve problems. I also reflected how many of those revelers of yesterday on those little buses will be back behind the wheels of their cars on Monday morning with no company except for the radio. Yesterday I caught a glimpse of community spirit and it first depends on people getting out of their cocoons and sharing time with each other. To the organisers of Route 76, my sincere congratulations - do it again soon!
I live in the old market town of Denbigh in the vale of Clwyd. Denbigh boasts at least ten pubs and most of these are "wet" houses which don't offer food. As such, most of these pubs are struggling to remain open since many are tied to breweries whose exorbitant rents and beer prices make earning a living virtually impossible. This is also the plight of the pubs in the surrounding villages. By contrast, however, many of the latter are owned by the landlords and also have varying standards of food provision. The Achilles heel of the country pubs though is a combination of low local populations and the drink driving laws.
So yesterday I paid my £3 and participated in a brilliant piece of innovation. In conjunction with the local council, a group of six country pubs organised a "mobile" beer festival. The bus route is tailored to drop off and pick up at these six pubs for the duration of the day. The narrowness of some of the country lanes requires a smaller bus to be employed and each bus had a bouncer aboard just in case revelry got out of hand.
The first bus to go past my bus stop was full to bursting so couldn't stop! The second one not far behind, I managed to board. From the outset, the atmosphere on that bus was tremendous. Any talk of a lack of community spirit or social cohesion were way off the mark. The high spirits, people talking to their neighbour, laughter and courtesy were a joy to behold. In all honesty, I felt so privileged to part of it, I would have gladly paid double. At one point, at a bus stop in Hendrerwydd for the White Horse Inn, a random dog hopped on and promptly alighted at the next stop to the delight of all the passengers. We had singing on our bus and as we came to stop at the town bus stop in Ruthin, the strains of "Calon Lan" were so loud that the expressions of those waiting to alight were an absolute picture.
I began my festival at the Three Pigeons at Graigfechan because it was the furthest pub from Denbigh. It seems my cunning plan had already been thought of! The Three Pigeons was heaving and it took nigh on half an hour to buy a drink. But nobody cared about waiting because the atmosphere was so friendly and happy. As I wove my way home bumping into old acquaintances along the way, each pub was absolutely full and many had live bands, hog roasts and the like.
Far from having a sore head this morning, I feel enlivened and have witnessed what can happen when heads get together to solve problems. I also reflected how many of those revelers of yesterday on those little buses will be back behind the wheels of their cars on Monday morning with no company except for the radio. Yesterday I caught a glimpse of community spirit and it first depends on people getting out of their cocoons and sharing time with each other. To the organisers of Route 76, my sincere congratulations - do it again soon!
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