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of seagulls and men

Yesterday afternoon we sat in a car-park in Cairnryan (Scotland), wondering why the slightest puff of wind causes havoc with sailings to Northern Ireland. As we watched the choppy waters of a traffic-free Lough Ryan our car park was, predictably, surrounded by seagulls. A few dozen of them sat on the sun-warmed tarmac with their heads turned round 180-degrees (why to they do that?).

I commented to my wife that the seagulls probably have no understanding of cars, car parks or our moderned world in any way that we would recognise. I wondered, out loud, if they view our car park as their ancestors viewed the rocky cliff that was once in the same place and if they viewed cars as big seals. Eventually we moved on and the bired lazily skipped a few metres away to avoid being ran over by my grey car - or were they avoiding a lolloping walrus?

Naturally, my wife thinks I'm going a little crazy.

Why I'll not be paying a lot of attention to Euro 2008

An old copy of Ring Magazine ('The Bible of Boxing') I found among my grandfather's belongings poured scorn on professional wrestling. The writer wondered how long the fans would put up with obviously faked matches and outcomes that were taking over removing the element of honest sport from it. That was in the 1930s and the fans still watch with the fakery's domination now complete.

I lost faith in it long ago. Once I realised it was fake, it was difficult to see why people remained enthusiastic about discussing who was likely to win. Why bother spending a week in the playground discussing whether Hulk Hogan would beat the Undertaker and who might be strongest? The two combatants knew the outcome already and the WWF presenters hyping it up knew the outcome.

This past week I had to challenge a few youngsters over copied coursework. It was the usual "Is this your own? Are you sure?" carry on, to give them a chance to come clean. They denied all knowledge until confronted with the facts and finally owned up that yes, they had copied that one question or that one section. "So how do I know you did the rest yourself?", I asked. They assured me that they had done the rest themselves. "But you told me that before and you were lying. How do I know that I won't discover the rest is copied? Why should I believe you?"

Hopefully, in time, they will learn their lesson that trust lost is difficult to regain and that outside school, such breaches of trust often lead to instant dismissal from the workplace.

So what has all of this got to do with football? Around ten years ago I watched an FA Cup match in which Alan Shearer was being completely outplayed by a player who was several divisions below him. Shearer responded by falling in a heap any time the player came near him to get free kicks and the other guy was eventually sent off. The commentator's praised Shearer's guile and use of his experience. No, he cheated. What should have been a sporting event was ruined by a cheat who was not challenged by the authorities for bringing the game into disrepute.

Around the same time, Micheal Owens took a dive in a Euro / World Cup match to get England a penalty. The video evidence clearly showed he was never touched and the commentators, including Kevin Keegan if I remember rightly, praised him for this. Again, sporting ability had nothing to do with it. Over time I have become used to the inevitable dives that nobody is doing anything about and gradually lost interest.

Football fans will no doubt tell be this is a small part of the game and they may be right. However, how do I know they are not as taken in by their fake sport as I was once taken in by professional wrestling? How do I know that referees and authorities alike are not in on the act? How do I know that failing to punish an obvious cheat is not part of the entertainment being provided? How do I know that the outcome of some major matches is not pre-determined?

This may seem extreme, but the authorities obviously do not care. If they did then something would be done. Why should I invest my time and effort getting interested in a sham? Anyone who watched Argentina cheat against England (1986) with Maradonna's 'Hand of God' handball and be rewarded with the world cup will see where I am coming from. Maybe that's where my loss of interest really started?

Wrestling fans ignored the gradual creep of fakery and fixing and today WWE (née WWF) at least has the honesty to not claim to be a sport anymore and openly admits to the fakery. In time, football fans may react to the fakery and hopefully for them it will be before this dominates the game.

As for me? I was a casual football fan once. Now I don't care.

More things that make me happy

I sometimes come across as a grouchy old sod. Sorry - I'm not that way all the time. Anyway, I decided another happy post would be better than a ranty post.

Things that make me happy

• The smell of mown grass;
• A good night's sleep;
• Learning something new;
• An ice cream on a sunny day;
• A cold glass of cider on a sunny day;
• Having time to sit and read;
• A long walk;
• My wife's cooking;
• My wife's cheesecake;
• My wife;
• Youngsters in school 'getting it' when they have struggled;
• Fresh sheets;
• The shower being as hot when I finish as when I started;
• Ireland beating England in Rugby;
• Dandering round a hardware or electronic shop, just looking;
• Being told 'well done' and the person meaning it;
• Knowing I've done a good job even if no-one makes a point of mentioning it;
• Winning a tight game of Badminton in a tie-break;
• Laughing with nephews/neices;
• The Dentist saying I need nothing done, after a check-up;
• Daffodils;
• Rollercoasters;
• Technology that works with no faffing around;
• Getting to the till and being charged less than I expected;
• Finding a tenner in a coat I haven't worn in ages;
• Getting a decent e-mail or letters from friends I rarely see;
• A good night's sleep;
• The smell of fish & chips.

What about you, dear reader? What makes you happy?

Something happy

Isn't it odd how happy childhood memories can be triggered by various sights, sounds, smells and so on?

An hour or so ago I was walking round B&Q, half-heartedly looking for a long plastic trough to plant in.  I say half-heartedly, as a trip to B&Q is a pleasant way to spend half an hour unless you are frantically trying to find something.  I like to just walk - dander - stroll - look around and take it in.  I suppose it's the grown man's equivalent of meandering round a big toy shop.  Who cares if you have gotten lost? - there's all these nice toys to see!

It also reminds me of the builders' merchant that was at the top of the street where I grew up.  When I was little, my Granda would take me along when he was going and I would happily potter up and down the aisles, being amazed at how many types of screwdriver there could be or wondering why anyone would need sandpaper that makes something rough.  I remember the signs going up, before Zammo Maguire gave Grange Hill a bad name, saying they couldn't sell glue to children. 

Most of all, I remember the smell of.... freshly sawn wood.  Mmmmmmmmmm.

I know that sounds sad, but I enjoy standing among the doors in B&Q because of.... the smell!

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Correction - Zammo's way of escape was heroin and not glue, wasn't it? I seem to remember that episode being talked about a lot and being told (ordered?) by our teachers to go home and watch the repeat - probably to scare the daylights out of us.  Like a bunch of culchy 10-year-olds were going to follow in his path, that weekend?  Didn't stop some of our classmates though....

 

I would like to...

I would like to...

Give whoever suggested tons of GCSE/AS/A-level coursework, to all come in at the same time, a thorough talking to.

Point out to management that the policy of infinite extensions to make sure youngsters do the work instead of opting out is not working.

Tell management that the prediction myself and others made in a staff meeting several years ago, that unless sharp action is taken, deadlines will become meaningless and students will think it is OK to hand work in hours before it is supposed to be collected by courier, came true.

Take every piece of late coursework and drop it in a river.  This is especially true of the ones I gave lots of constructive feedback for several months ago, that have not changed.

Make students understand that simply reprinting in a different font does not constitute a major change and if I give you the same mark as I gave you in January, or one slightly lower, you should learn from it.

Tell the exam boards, in January, what marks students will get in their coursework.  I'm generally right about this.

Enforce the policy that existed when I did GCSEs.  If the teacher says he wants it on 30th March, he gets it by 30th March and is within his rights to refuse late work.  This is because we have to schedule our time between different courses and a few late-comers really mess things up for a satisfactory home-life.  Only the people who were destined to fail anyway failed to submit.

Charge the overtime rates a plumber gets away with charging.

Be in bed at a reasonable hour tonight, all coursework marked.

End of moan...

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