Stay tuned for what?

It’s hard to be positive about ITV’s coverage of the FA Cup (or any sporting event for that matter), particularly when you hear the voice over announce ’stay tuned for the insights of Robbie Earle after the break’. Fantastic.

So, after checking what DFS are offering on a god-awful sofa these days, we return to the spectacular insights of  Robbie Earle. Take Everton’s goal against Liverpool today, for example. Clearly the execution of a training ground move (Tim Cahill waited off the pitch until a corner was played in. Whilst waiting, he was instructing his players where to stand and where to move, after which he sneeked on to the pitch virutally scored himself), Robbie Earle has this nugget: “I think it was a training ground move.” Brilliant Robbie, have a gold star.

The coverage has arguably improved since the days of Andy Townsend sitting in an appropriately named ‘Tactics Truck’ (essentially a van with Andy Townsend in the back), but there is still the perennial problem of having morons with checked shirts and fat ties stood on the pitch-side playing Subbuteo.

And I honestly have no idea what this year’s FA Cup credits are about. A constructing of the FA Cup as an 10-storey architectural nightmare in the landscapes of Yorkshire?

Look at me!

Rumours have been surfacing that Dany N’Guessan, the Lincoln City winger is using YouTube as a proverbial shop window and has posted a video of his ‘best bits’, so to speak. It bizarrely even includes his position, height and date of birth. Perhaps he also thinks he’s auditioning for the Krypton Factor.

This is a fantastic idea until you realise his ‘best bits’ include mislaid passes, less-than-pinpoint crosses and wild shots off target. And lets face it – that’s a pretty retarded way of selling yourself. Harry Redknapp would surely have had a duckfit at some of the misses.

The astounding thing is that Valencia, Marseille, Wigan, Hull and West Brom are reportedly in for the 21 year old.Whilst he has got skill, one must remember it’s being demonstrated against League Two defences, who doubtless would be as good as stopping a barage as a sandbag in Tewkesbury.

No disrespect to League Two - it’s where my beloved Grimsby Town ply their trade – but, realistically, no-one can describe 90% of the football on show as nothing short of shocking. It’s statistically proven that 93.4% of League Two strikers think that the goalposts they’re aiming at are in Africa, and that 86% of defenders in the league think a good tackle is something reserved only for old men in waders.

On the idea of posting videos to sell yourself, it’s rumoured Nigel Quashie was also thinking about posting one to interest potential suitors Newcastle United. A good idea until he realised his ‘best bits’ amounted to a three second clip of him being substituted.

Snooker tries a funny

Ronnie O’Sullivan commented during last week’s Masters Championship that snooker needs a dose of X-Factor glitz. It will have pleased the power brokers, then, when Ronnie ‘the Rocket’ O’Sullivan and Mark ‘Jester from Leicester’ Selby made it to the final.

What better way to showcase snooker than with rockets and jokes? Except there were no rockets. Or jokes. In fact there was no sound at all. Just silence. And two men with terrible haircuts potting balls. You can imagine the crowd’s disappointment.

And honestly - who came up with Mark Selby’s name?  The Jester from Leicester? What, does he crack jokes in between reds and relax at home wearing bells and entertaining royalty and noblemen?

Come on – they could have surely done better than that.

“So Mark, welcome to the Snooker Stage Naming Comittee. We thought soon as though you’re a regular in the top 16 now we should come up with a jazzy name for everyone to associate with you.”

“Great – I’d like it to be something to do with Leicester – that’s where I’m from.”

“Fair enough, although not much rhymes with Leicester. How about child molester?”

“Er…I don’t think that’s the sort of image I want to be portraying, really.”

“No, no, you’re right. We don’t want a child molester on the circuit. How about Jester, instead?”

“But I don’t tell jokes. I’m a snooker player.”

“Well they’re the options. You’re either the Jester from Leicester or the Child Molester from Leicester. It’s up to you.”

No really, it’s a tough job…

So, I was browsing the Internet for an appropriate image for the last post, and came across this one…

Refereeing snooker, apparently, is a risky and dangerous business, where the white-gloved men (and women – sorry Michaela Tabb) cower in the corner in fear of a beating. Trust Alex Higgins to cause a raucous, eh?

It’s great to see Jimmy White taking action and stepping in too, by remaining in his seat and laughing at the whole thing.

A tough job…

I was watching – like all the cool people do these days – some snooker tonight. The commentator, in passing commentary of the game, started talking about the referee, Jan Verhass. He said he was the best referee in snooker.

On what do you base being a good snooker referee on? The ability to give a ball a good rub? Knowing when to tell an audience member not to use their phone (that’ll be after the phone has just gone off, then…)? Having the nowse to count to a maximum of 147 in increments of no more than 7?

I’m sure there is the odd archaic rule that has to be applied, like the ‘miss’, but seriously – don’t they just stand and observe?

I couldn’t for the life of me distinguish a good referee from a bad one. Perhaps the bad referees are the ones who turn up drunk, mount the baize themselves and swing their trousers above their heads.

A Day Out at Cleethorpes

These here results are from my first ‘proper’ race in preparation for the marathon in April. We’ll ignore that they spelt my name wrong and concentrate on the result, which I’m rather proud of. 

Much to my amazement, I kept on picking the odd runner off and eventually came 93rd in a time of 44 minutes 28 seconds. We’ll disregard the 92 that had the indecency to beat me and focus on the whopping 201 runners were slower. 201! Needless to say, I was very pleased with my efforts. The race was actually won in 31 minutes 49 seconds by a lunatic who’d decided it was a good idea to travel from Salford to race. He won in what is frankly a ridiculous time – I’d be checking him for Viagra (see previous post…) if I were the race organisers.

The weather was rather clement, as it turns out - it was sunny and there was virtually no wind, which was nice. I’d have still much preferred to have avoided subjecting my hands and nose to the arctic temperatures of November, but you can’t have it all your own way.

The race did nothing to quash my earlier preconceptions of club runners, either. Paula Radcliffe, disappointingly, wasn’t there to take up my challenge, but a high percentage of club runners were - proudly adorning their club vests, as if to make a statement of their speed and ability to runner faster than you. If they weren’t all so skinny and feeble, I’m sure they’d all have been puffing out their chests, too. As it turns out, not all of them were that fast and I beat plenty of them. In your face, club runners!

I even had the satisfaction of a sprint finish, where I beat about three or four others*. I resisted the temptation to turn round and give them a quick ‘ha ha’ as I surged past on the final bend - I thought it wouldn’t be classed as proper racing decorum.

I must say the whole day was an education into how runners really don’t mind showing off a bit of leg, or genitalia, for that matter. A large percentage were either wearing shorts which concealed nothing a pair of pants wouldn’t, or leggings. No shorts on top of them or anything, just leggings. That’s men included – with everything on show. It seems plainly evident to me now that runners were the demographic Frank Sinatra was alluding to when he mused over ’Born Free’ .

A good time was had by all, though. Now all I’ve got to do is learn how to do 10km and then another 30 on top of that. Nice.

*Overtaking one of the runners gave me particular satisfaction; having surged past me oozing the confidence of Tom Jones and with flagrant disregard for a steady pace, he was practically dead on his feet at the end, and I thoroughly enjoyed teaching him a lesson in pacing. Boyers 1 – Ill disciplined club runner 0.

Tent pole alert!!!

So, it seems no drug is immune from giving athletes a performance boost these days.

The World Anti-Doping Agency have now announced they’re planning to investigate the benefits of using Viagra in sport. They think it could ‘enhance cardiac output and the transportation of oxygen to muscles’, but it seems far more sensible to simply test athletes for their ability to go hard and fast for a long time. 

Does this now mean we might have an influx of OAP’s taking to the 100m start line now they’re able to compete on a level playing field with the young’uns?

If it does transpire that Viagra does have sporting benefits for athletes, doubtless the doping agencies and governing bodies won’t have any trouble in spotting the offenders on the start line, given that they’ll all be pitching tents in their shorts. I would have said that was more of a hindrance, but there you go.

Taxi for Tim!

Hopefully no one will remember the name of Tim Montgomery in a few years. If there was any doubt of the depths of immorality that the sprinter, who ‘broke’ the 100m could plunge, it’s been in the news today that not only was he using drugs when he broke the world record in 2002, but was also high as a kite when he won an Olympic Gold in the 4×100m relay in 2000.

Tim’s record of misdemeanours is spectacular by anyone’s standards. From being implicated in the Balco doping scandal in 2005 and banned from athletics for two years, he’s now serving a 46-month prison sentence for his part in a million-dollar cheque scam. It’s also been revealed that he signed a near $100,000 shoe contract whilst still in college, which was in violation of the college sports governing body rules. If that wasn’t enough, he faces another five years in prison for dealing heroin. He only needs to admit to one more thing and then he has a Royal Flush.

Truly, he is an appaling excuse of a man.

Isn’t it astounding how no-one noticed any of this until 2005? Clearly, he didn’t learn how to launder money, take drugs and deal heroin overnight. Add to this that his partner, Marion Jones, was also bulging at the seams with steriods at the same time, and it’s a mystery how it went undiscovered for so long.

Stand-up parents that they are, Montgomery and Jones have left a child in the wilderness whilst they’re in prison. Presumably the scamp isn’t just wandering the streets and has been given to a family who deserves a child, but still, great example to follow.

The Beeb announce their F1 line-up

 

So the Beeb have announced their pundit team for the forthcoming Formula One season. There aren’t any real surprises from the rumours - Jake Humphrey will anchor the coverage flanked by square-headed David Coulthard and former team boss Eddie Jordan.

Martin Brundle brings knowledge and wit in equal measure over from ITV, and he’ll be joined by Jonathan Legard in the commentary box – the former F1 correspondent for 5 Live. Ted Kravitz and Lee McKenzie are in the pit lane.

Doubtless Steve Rider will be jumping for joy at F1’s move to the Beeb, giving him plenty of time to think about his Boat Race coverage.

I just have one question. Will we all have to get new TV sets to accomodate David Coulthard’s massive square-shaped head?

Tax bill? What tax bill?

This news, right here, is truly scandalous. Not simply for a Grimsby Town fan – who’s had to endure years of endless rants about money or the lack of it – but for any football fan in general, this is bad news.

It’s been announced that more than £28 million owed by struggling football clubs in England has been wiped off by HM Revenue and Customs. As Grimsby Town has struggled to pay its tax bill of £700,000 in installments over the last three years, these clubs in question (predictably Leeds United are there – it seems their lack of financial prudence continues to know no boundaries) have had a great chunk of (or, in some cases, all) of their debt wiped off. Gone. ‘No need to pay, Leicester City, we’ll just get our money from the clowns on the East Coast who are trying to run a football club honestly and properly!’.

As a Grimsby Town fan knowing how close my beloved club was to extinction, I’m mightily peeved at the news that no less than 18 clubs have been competing with an unfair advantage. No wonder we’re near the bottom of the league with just one win to shout about this season. Imagine what we could of done with the money if we hadn’t have had to pay the taxman – four Grant Holts, for a start.

The FA need to get tough on this. Teams like Leicester, Leeds, MK Dons and Darlington – all on the list – have spent thousands on wages and transfer fees, when they’ve paid virtually nothing of what they owe to the taxman. How is this fair? There are points deductions for those that go into administration, but those teams still manage to pay for players of sufficient quality to offset it. Would Bournemouth really be able to pay the wages of Darren Anderton and Lee Bradbury if they lived in financial reality?

The football league isn’t a level playing field, and it stinks. Personally, I’d throw half those clubs on the skip – Leeds United for a start. They’ve flown in the face of danger and have found themselves up shit creek without a paddle. It’s about time a big, big waterfall came along.

FYI, here’s a list of the offending clubs.

FOOTBALL CLUBS IN DEBT

	League	Tax owed	Amount paid	Deficit
Leicester City	League One	£7m	£700k	£6.3m
Leeds United	League One	£6.8m	£680k	£6.1m
Ipswich Town	Championship	£5m	£391k	£4.6m
Bradford City	League Two	£2.6m	£26k	£2.58m
Luton	League Two	£2.5m	275k	£2.2m
Wrexham	Blue Sq Prem.	£1.45m	£507k	£943k
Bournemouth	League Two	£1m	£100k	£900k
Halifax Town	Uni 1 North	£795k	£0	£795k
Huddersfield	League One	£723k	£101k	£622k
Cambridge U	Blue Sq Prem.	£532K	£101k	£431k
Oldham	League One	£520k	£260k	£260k
Notts County	League Two	£487k	£96k	£391k
MK Dons	League One	£460k	£0	£460k
Rotherham	League Two	£450k	£20k	£430k
Exeter City	League Two	£442k	£62k	£380k
Darlington	League Two	£416k	£2k	£414k
Lincoln City	League Two	£350k	£143k	£207k
Crawley Town	Blue Sq Prem.	£193k	£96K	£97k

The first big run…

I have my first competitive run in preparation for the marathon this weekend. It’s a 10km dash along Cleethorpes sea front and I have two main problems. First of all, it’s a race against proper runners – people who take this jogging malarkey really seriously. They are clearly going to be very, very fast, all donned in their club vests looking like virtual Paula Radcliffes. I was told that the winner of the race did it 28 minutes last year!

 

I, clearly, am not going to be running that fast. I’ll most likely be at the back with the old woman and the man with one leg and suffer the ignominy of being lapped. It’ll probably prove as great an embarrassment of my athletic ability as when I tried gymnastics at school in Year 9 and fell off the pommel horse in front of my classmates. I can see it now – I’ll be coming through the finish line as they’re packing everything away – they couldn’t possibly think anyone could run the race this slow.

My other issue is the location of the run. I’m not entirely sure why an organiser would consider a run along the coast of the North Sea on a cold, wet November morning appealing on any level, but he has, so I have to live with it. But I would just like to say, I have enough trouble running distances at any sort of speed as it is – with arctic gusts and crashing waves raining down on me as though I’ve had a lover’s tiff with the God of Thunder, I’m sure it won’t be any easier.

Apparently these sorts of races are good practice for the real thing – you’re racing against people better and faster than you, so obviously you run faster too – or that’s how it’s supposed to happen, anyway. But you can forgive me for not really caring about that at this point – that just makes it all the more daunting.

You never know, Cleethorpes might be very temperate on this specific November morning. It might be like running in the South of France – the sun may shine, the wind might abate and I might set a new course record. Clearly this won’t happen, but you can’t blame a man for hoping.

 

Alain Baxter bares all…

Alain Baxter and his ski

So it really has come to this. Alain Baxter has had his funding cut so dramatically by British Skiing that they’ve literally taken his salopettes and his thermals off him too. To celebrate all this happening, Alain’s made a calendar with the small tokens that British Skiing have left him with, which is one ski and his boots. He wanted to pose with his dignity, too, but British Skiing cut that back as part of the measures.

Obviously I’m exagerating here and British Skiing clearly haven’t run away with Alain’s clothes. But they have indeed cut his funding (rightly so, if you ask me – having been in the top 10 in 2002, he’s not even in the top 120 at the minute), so Alain came up with the ingenious idea of baring all to raise a bit of cash in order to maintain his hopes of getting to the Winter Olympics in Vancouver in 2010.

Apparently it costs £10,000 to remain on the ski circuit each year, and frankly, if his fine specimen of a body doesn’t raise that cash, then there is something wrong with the middle-aged women of this country.

I’m presuming that the photo shoot didn’t take place in the sub-zero temperatures of the mountains whilst Alain was skiing, otherwise I’d imagine there wouldn’t have been much to shoot and he wouldn’t have so much needed a hand or two to cover his privates, more a little finger.

If anything it goes to show the lengths he’ll go to to get to the Olympics, which is admirable from a man who’s been plagued by misfortune, injuries and personal problems since his peak in 2002. I’m sure the Olympics represent unfinished business for Baxter, too, given that he had his bronze medal from the Slalom in Salt Lake City cruelly (and wrongfully) taken away, so fair play to him.

It’s been in the news recently that UK Athletics is set to cut its funding too, so we can perhaps expect some of our less successful track and field athletes hiding behind all manner of hurdles, javelins and shot puts in time for Christmas.

I propose that they get everyone together and make a WI style calendar, sell the rights to a film and shift a shed load of DVDs, then UK Athletics’ll be set for life.

Beckham set for return to Europe

It seems as though David Beckham is ready to make the shrewd decision of moving away from Major League Soccer, even if it is only for a few months.

AC Milan are the suitors and negotiations are apparently going well. It’ll be an interesting move if it goes ahead, not least because Beckham would be playing with the likes of Kaka, Ronaldinho and Pirlo. Of course, with such players in a dominant midfield, it’s not even a given that Beckham’ll get regular football.

Beckham’s hand was almost forced by Fabio Capello. The Italian England manager (…) has already made clear his intention to pick those playing regularly and in form. Beckham, after a dismal MLS campaign with the LA Galaxy, would be as useful as a striking Hollywood writer for the next few months and would quickly find himself on the periphery of the England squad, if in it at all. The LA Galaxy have managed the quite astonishing feat of being the second worst team in Major League Soccer this season and consequently have nothing to do until next year, so Beckham’s return to Europe can’t be unexpected.

He’s been clever in choosing Serie A, too. The Italian League is the slowest and least demanding in Europe, so should suit Beckham’s creaking knees. His levels of fitness are well below what’s required in the Premiership, which has become far more dynamic as the years have taken their toll on poor David. But in Italy, Beckham’s lack of pace and fitness shouldn’t show. He’ll be (hopefully) playing Champions League Football and have regular action in Serie A, so his place in the England setup should be assured for now.

Who know’s if he’ll return to LA if he goes to AC Milan; any sane individual would see the failure of the Galaxy as sending his professional career into cardiac arrest if he continues. They are a poor side, in a very poor league and if Beckham harbours any ambition of staying in Capello’s England plans for the future, he should see sense and get out at the soonest opportunity.

Admirable as his crusade to bring soccer to the masses in America is, Beckham is either a professional footballer, or he’s simply a name; a carat for sponsors; a brand. I don’t think he can pursue both and in time, he’ll have to choose between them.

Map my run? I wish you’d just run it for me.

This is an amazing site. It’s called mapmyrun.com. It’s handy if you’re training for a marathon as it tells you how little distance you’ve travelled and how slowly you’ve gone. If you’re really keen, you can put loads of data in and it calculates your speed and how many calories you’ve burned too.

If it’s possible, it kind of puts the fun into running, as you get to make your own runs up. If you’re still quite childish like me, you can also take great enjoyment of being able to zoom into your house and look at it REALLY CLOSE UP. I couldn’t see myself waving though.

Apparently I ran 4.24 miles in just over 32 minutes at a speed of 7 minutes 31 seconds a mile last night, during which time I burned 537 calories.

Do you think next time the computer can just go on the run for me?

Amir Khan starts again…

It’s been announced that Amir Khan will make his comeback to the ring this December. It’ll be his first fight since he was knocked out by Breidis Prescott last month. Given that before being knocked out he was hyped as a future world champion, it’ll be very intriguing to see how he reacts.

I think a lot of the hype surrounding Khan, particularly having seen his performance last month, was just that – hype. Commentators were swept up in Olympic euphoria after Khan won his silver medal in Athens; he was seen as one of the major success stories of the event and consequently was dealt with by the media as a big star. He turned professional soon after, has made public appearances, been on TV and been pounced upon by sponsors. Because he’d been in the public eye and was already on his way to becoming a household name, it was almost forced upon him that he’d be a world beater.

I don’t know much about boxing and its technicalities, but in Khan’s brief professional career, I’ve not seen anything that warrants his billing as top contender for a tilt at the world title. He’s quick and fast, but (and this comes from a purely non boxing-expert) he seems to be almost too arrogant in the ring (if a boxer can be such a thing), leaves himself vulnerable with his guard and doesn’t have a very good chin. He’s quite evidently got the skills necessary to do well in terms of speed and skill, but his approach and attitude in fights has been questionable.  He’s never shown anything like being a finished article. The thing in Khan’s favour is his age; he’s still very young, so has the time to mature and forget his nightmare bout from last month.

It’s amazing how quickly you can go from hero to zero in boxing. You can be a challenger for world dominance and in the blink of an eye and the swing of a right fist, you’re nobody. You have to start all over again, build your reputation up almost from square one. Look at Audley Harrison – another boxer who has simply failed to live up to hype.

Perhaps it is the problem of the media that we’ve expected too much from these fighters. They’ve been built up as potential world champions simply because of their swift entry into households around the country thrgouh the Olympics. The truth is, Harrison was never good enough. It remains to be seen whether Khan will live up to his billing as prime fighter supreme – only time will tell.

The London Marathon…what was I thinking?

So – this is what arrived through my letterbox over the weekend; come next April, with any luck, I’ll be a finely tuned, super-fit athlete ready to run the London Marathon. In reality, I’ll probably spend the next few months shirking away from training, eating the odd chocolate bar to store energy for a run that I probably won’t go on, and inevitably trying to recover from pulled muscles, aching limbs and sore backs. It’s going to be so much fun! 

It seemed like such a good idea when I applied months ago – it was far away, and having applied twice before and not got in, I wasn’t expecting to get in this time either. Now that I’m in, it’s suddenly dawned on me that I’ve got to run 26 miles. I run around 3-4 miles usually, so it’s 8 times what I’m used to. It’s the distance from my house to Grimsby, which would take over half an hour in a car. It is a bloody long way.

According to the London Marathon website, I have 6 months, 18 days, 9 hours and 47 minutes until I set off on my ridiculous journey, which will never be enough time to prepare. In terms of my aims, I’d love to see myself hunting down Paula Radcliffe in the last couple of miles, beating her in a sprint finish in The Mall, becoming a national hero and booking myself on the next tube to London 2012. Honestly, I think three and a half hours is a slightly more realistic target, but anywhere between Haile Gabrselassie and the bloke in the deep-sea diving suit will do me just fine.

So, come wind, rain, ice, snow, I’ll be clocking off mile after mile this winter – which sounds like a great way for anyone to spend their spare hours. Lets look on the bright side though – at least it gives me the chance to eat plenty of Jaffa Cakes (the confectionery du jour for all athletes) and listen to Led Zeppelin as I pummel the road. All in all, that’s a couple of pretty poor positives against a massive list of negatives though.

It’s going to be a challenge, but I’m sure it’ll be fun in the end. I’ve always wanted to do it, and now’s as good a time as any! So if you see a lanky runner in ridiculous thermals and a wooly hat wheazing around Kirton in the next few months, give him a wave – he could do with the support!

Week 1 so far…

Miles run: 0

Days that I’ve not been bothered to run: 2

Amount of pasta/potato eaten: A fair bit, but nothing like the amount I’ll be eating in the next few weeks!

The rent-a-stadium philosophy

One of the common trends from the football league in the last decade or so is the movement of football clubs from their traditional homes to sparkling, brand new stadia, often at out-of-town locations. The list of teams that have made such a move is pretty exhaustive – Southampton, Coventry, Shrewbury, Swansea, Darlington, Milton Keynes, Stoke, Hull, Reading, Plymouth, Leicester…I could go on.

It’s obvious why they’ve all done it. Their previous homes offered little opportunity for expansion, and the financial opportunities and the improved image of the club are both necessary for the clubs to compete at the highest level. All the new stadia tick these boxes, but they also follow such a carbon-copy blueprint that they’ve become virtual ‘rent-a-stadia’ that bear no influences of the local community, and carry no tradition and no character of the club itself. The atmosphere is virtually non-existent as most of the stadia are half full – obviously they’ve all been built with the capacity of a Premiership club in mind. I remember watching Grimsby Town play Darlington at what was the ‘Reynolds Arena’ – a 25,000 all-seater stadium. There were less than 3,000 fans inside the ground; you could have comfortably fit them in one corner and the match had the atmosphere of a reserve match. It was probably one of the least enjoyable footballing experiences I’ve had. I can’t envisage that it would be much different at the many of the clubs previously mentioned, either, as they’re one of the same.

As a Grimsby Town fan, who have been looking to move away from Blundell Park for years now, I’m torn between the potential to be able to compete at the highest level possible and the desire to retain some of the heritage and history of the club that will forever stay at a ground where we’ve been for over a century. Blundell Park is a truly awful stadium; it’s small, it stinks, a good part of it is made of wood, the views are rubbish and the facilities are virtually non-existent. But it’s home. It’s where I saw us thump Luton 7-1 once, where we beat Stockport in the FA Cup with two goals in injury time, where we beat West Ham and Spurs, drew with Chelsea (doesn’t even tell half the story – we played them off the pitch), and gave Newcastle a run for their money. And that’s in my short memory. God only knows the stories some of the older fans can tell.

And where would all that history be at a new hollow, tin stadium? It’d be nowhere. I’d have a nice place to go to the toilet, enough room to swing a cat whilst I queue for my cup of tea and uncompromised views of the awful football on show, but I’d be sitting in a half empty stadium that’s souless and has no atmosphere. I could be in Stoke, Shrewsbury, Southampton, Coventry, Milton Keynes, Darlington…anywhere. One of the joys of Blundell Park is that when you’ve had enough of the terrible football you’re watching, you can let your eyes wander and watch the ships sail down the Humber Estuary. It’s a small thing, but it defines where you are; you’re in Grimsby (well, Cleethorpes, if we’re being particular) – and you know that you are – it’s the whole character of the place.

It’d certainly be financially beneficial to move grounds – we’d get more fans to the game, we’d have the potential to expand, and we could lure more sponsorship and capital to the club. But is it worth the loss of history? I’m not so sure…

Eat Like Champions!

So, not only do we have Jamie Oliver and Gordon Ramsay pummeling us with their pompous “you should all be able to cook hand-dived sea scallops!” message, but we now have the EU onto us too. Rather than sort out the economic crisis, the European Commission, with the help of UEFA, have come up with their answer to childhood obesity. They’ve created a recipe book called ‘Eat for Goals!’, which features recipes from thirteen star footballers, including Steven Gerrard.

Call me cynical, but I have massive reservations about whether Gerrard’s recipe – an aromatic sea bream – is actually his recipe. It sounds delicious, but come on – can you really see Steven Gerrard fumbling around his spice rack for his aromatic infusions?

There are some other brilliant inclusions. Barry Ferguson, the Rangers captain, has contributed an amazingly difficult fruit salad. I’m not sure why anyone needs a recipe to tell them to gather some fruit, chop it into edible sizes and put into a bowl, but the commission obviously thinks it’s necessary.

Fabio Capello, full of Italian flair and pinache, has created a recipe for pasta a la siciliana, which, on closer inspection, appeared to be a fancy name for spaghetti bolognese. Miroslav Klose came up with a typically German Power Omlette, and Thierry Henry has come up with a rice cubana.

All in all, I think we can definitely rest assured that the kids will be itching to rustle up their pasta a la sicilianas and power omlettes in between their woodwork homework thanks to another EU drive. 

Steven Gerrard said he hoped the book would help children “eat like champions” – a soundbite if ever there was one. The European Health Commissioner didn’t beat around the bush with his reasons for the book, however - “We don’t want you all to grow up fat.” Very diplomatic.

The Olympic legacy…

I find it astounding how much animosity that exists for the London Olympics in 2012, in spite of the country’s success in Beijing. I’ve not experienced the enthusiasm, the interest and the sheer feel-good factor that permeated the general public’s psyche for two weeks for a long long time, if at all. And rightly so – we were absolutely phenomenal. We’ve seen the impact it can have on society, on individuals, and on sport in general, and this was all by proxy from thousands of miles away. For the first time in years, children have sporting role models other than the odd upstanding footballer (take a bow, Graeme Le Saux) and have something to aspire to, and admire.

So why the negativity towards sport’s greatest event coming to these shores? The cost, obviously, is a worry. Particularly in the current economic climate, the never-ending escalation of costs surrounding the Olympics (£2.3 billion, £9 billion…) seems a lot for taxpayers that are now being asked to prop up the financial sector whilst also coping with inflation, rising food prices and bills and soaring mortgage repayments. From a purely financial point of view, an event on the scale of the Olympics is that last thing this country needs.

But just imagine the buzz in this country if we have that kind of success in London, on our doorstep? It will undoubtedly be something to savour, and I for one can’t wait for the four years to fly by so I can get my grandstand seats for the cycling or the tae-kwon-do.

In terms of legacy, which has been the buzz word for the whole bid and project, I think the social aspect is almost a given. It will capture the imagination, it will inspire, it will provide heroes, it will get children wanting to play sport at school, or at home, and it will invoke a feel-good factor in the country that should last for many years.

In terms of infrastructure, however, it is harder to sell. It’s no surprise that in the capital, where the vast majority of the Olympic infrastructure will be located, support and enthusiasm for the Games is far higher than on a national level. Londoners are getting something in return for their tax pennies, whereas the nation as a whole will be receiving little. However, local facilities are receiving investment – I know of at least two sporting venues in my local area that are receiving timely new funding. So it will trickle down. And we have to hope that we have success in the Games, which itself will encourage investment in talent and in facilities.

In the current climate, and with the Games still a long way off, negativity and caution will be exercised. But when the time comes for London to step up to the plate, I think you’ll have a hard job finding people who won’t think it’s been worthwhile.

Rusedski says no to the Davis Cup

It’s official – for all of you excited about the toothy Canadian’s return to the Davis Cup for Great Britain, prepare to be disappointed – he’s confirmed there’s no chance of it happening. Of course he has. He’s 35, he was slow when he retired over a year ago and his last experience of sporting competition was on a reality-TV ice-skating show on ITV. Of course he bloody wasn’t going to come back and play top-class tennis again.

I hear that the LTA are hot on the heels of Jeremy Bates now, and, failing that, are perhaps considering sticking a comedy beard on Laura Robson and seeing how she does. They had tried to get Andrew Castle, but obviously he’s too busy getting to know his pasodoble from his jive.

Have we really got this desperate? Are we really so bad that we’re turning to players who’ve retired and who haven’t played anywhere near the top of their game for almost three years? I know Bogdanovic is pretty mediocre, but come on.

And what message does this send out to the younger generation of tennis players – the Slabinskys, the Bakers or the Eatons – are they so awful that a retired professional is better?

We are never going to win the Davis Cup – for a good long while, at least – so let’s try and use it to our advantage in some way. We can give younger players the opportunity to play somewhere near top-class tennis in top-class venues; we can give them the experience of performing in front of cameras, adapting to pressure and becoming used to media interest. I strongly believe that whilst there’s no realistic chance of us winning the thing, we should be using it for all these means instead – it could prove far more beneficial in the long run.

Rusedski returning was never going to benefit anyone. It just shows what disarray the LTA still seems to be in. On Centre Court a couple of weeks ago the attitude of the whole coaching staff, and most of the players, was wrong. There seemed to be a resignation, and an acceptacance that we’re pretty crap. We are, but someone needs to be making the decisions to rectify that, and fast. Even entertaining the possibility of a Rusedski return shows how embarassing we are. 

Two years ago, the LTA President Stuart Smith set the target of having five players in the Top 100 – it’s great to see that it’s all coming together so well, isn’t it?