Sportsthoughts (40) – FC Barcelona at the Camp Nou

Posted on August 23, 2012 by John S

On Sunday I fulfilled an ambition and went to the Camp Nou in Barcelona, to see the mighty FC Barcelona play.  To see the great Lionel Messi.

We were holidaying up the coast on the Costa Brava, near a town called Platja D’Aro. We’ve been staying at a camp called Cala Gogo for a few years, in the mobile homes owned by Thomsons Al Fresco. The camp is set in the hills, with a short walk to the beach, two good swimming pools, a decent restaurant and bar, open air discos, a Queen tribute band (really), big screen for Barca games (last year we saw both the intense Supercopa games between Barca and Real Madrid) and a lovely relaxed vibe about the place. Mainly Spanish, Dutch and French campers. If you are looking for a nice place to stay with kids, this does the business.

And one of the travel companies in the camp links up with a firm that arranges trips to the Camp Nou, amongst others. Sunday was the opening day of La Liga and Barca were playing Real Sociedad, from San Sebastian, in the Basque country. My son, Kieran, and I went along.  We had a very jolly hostess on the bus, a young Dutch woman called Demmy, who switched impressively between English, Dutch and Spanish as she exhorted us to sing along to the Barcelona anthem. It seemed churlish not to…

Tot el camp es un clam, som la gent blaugrana. Tant se val d’on venim, si del sud o del nord, ara estem d’acord, ara estem d’acord, una bandera ens agermana. Blaugrana al vent, un crit valent, tenim un nom, el sap tothom:

Barca, Barca, Baaarca!

That’s Catalan, by the way. Demmy helpfully translated the words for us.  Like any football song about the club you support, it’s all about how everyone comes together in the united cause. (Hmm, actually West Ham’s “I’m Forever blowing Bubbles” seems to emphasise dreams fading and dying, but it’s still quite moving when you belt it out.)

I was genuinely excited about visiting one of the true cathedrals of football.  The world’s best club team, playing the intricate football that has passed through into the Spanish national team, helping them to win the last two European championships and the last World Cup.  An unprecedented achievement.

But it has to be said that the stadium from the outside doesn’t grab you.  It’s big, but there’s no outstanding architecture – quite surprising when you think about the reputation of Barcelona, the city. I wasn’t inspired to do a photo shoot of the exterior, as I was, recently with Wembley stadium or the Olympic site (see my various blogs, in this Sportsthoughts series, or under the London category).

Inside, the stadium was showing its age too. Rather utilitarian, dark, in the corridors. And went you go out to the seats, impressive in scale, but quite basic. Two thirds, at least, of the crowd would get drenched if it rained.

But still, it was Barcelona.  And of course the pitch itself was in magnificent condition, being heavily watered to assist that trademark slick passing. (Just like Arsenal in that respect).

The team warm up. Dancing to Puyol’s tune.

And then, the game. First of the season.  Stadium no more than 60% full, so maybe 50,000 people. As well as holidays, I imagine some people were saving their first visit for this year’s Supercopa, which is again Barca v Real (tonight as I write), although this time with Barca merely as cup winners, while Real appear as winners of La Liga.

The game was terrific.  Especially the first half, when Barca took a 4-1 lead. The intensity of the second half was predictably lessened, but it had a genuinely moving moment when David Villa, who had been out of the game for a year with a broken leg, not only came on, but scored Barca’s fifth goal, after a classic move, slicing the opposition defence to pieces.

We watch Barca in awe on the TV. The intricate, triangular passing and moving, spinning a web that finally bamboozles the opposition, who begin to lose shape, leaving the gaps that Barca then exploit. The extraordinary Lionel Messi, in particular. He has a different licence to the rest.  He will wander anywhere, dribble, shoot from distance. Much of the rest is that extraordinarily precise short passing, probing, waiting, pouncing.  Seeing the whole pitch (which you can’t do on TV, which follows the ball) you appreciate the architecture of Barca’s game even more.  Players do interchange positions, especially in midfield, where Xavi, Fabregas and Messi, dropping back, were untouchable. The young player, Tello, positioned out wide left, was devasting in the first half, jinking into the penalty area cutting the ball back.  Not all the passes reached a Barca attacker, but I think the Real Sociedad defence was thoroughly discombobulated by his assaults. And behind the attacking players sat Busquets, ready to mop up whenever required.  Hardly visible, always present.

A midfield quartet, Pedro (I think) on the ball, Fabregas about to form the point of the diamond – see how he has penetrated the midfield cover –  Busquets (16) hovering,  Messi, the false nine, making up the four. See how closely they work together. Xavi in this case just behind, ready to join the fray, but covering for Pedro’s absence on the left, and Dani Alves’ typically advanced position, leaving the left back space exposed.

Having said all that, the first Barca goal was a simple Puyol header from a corner. The magnificent symbol of the club, the shaggy mane, nearing the end of his footballing days, but the ultimate Catalonian.  The goal greeted with a special delight by the crowd.  Next a Messi special, wriggling past his markers, shooting from the edge of the box.

Celebration.

Then another Messi goal. Finishing off one of those scything moves. Pedro then took a chance provided to him by one of Tello’s runs and crosses.  Clinical. Real Sociedad’s goal was a cracker too.  Absolutely cut up the Barca defence at speed.  A clue to Champions League challengers.  An insight Chelsea used to great effect last season. The soft underbelly of Barca is the central defence.  Puyol and Mascherano (a midfielder) to start, Piquet coming on in the second half. None blessed with amazing pace. Most of Barca’s defending is done higher up the field, as the midfielders and forwards swarm in pursuit of the ball if they lose it. But if you can get past that barrier, Barca are vulnerable. The question always is, do you dare commit the numbers to try?  Most teams say no, and sit back in numbers, hoping for a lucky break. Rarely works.

Real Sociedad, to their credit, did have a bit of a go in the first half.  And conceded four.  They sat deeper in the second half, and Barca probed round the edges.  It was good to see Iniesta, Piquet and then Villa come on, and the game ended happily with the Villa goal. (Of course he also got booked for taking off his shirt, to reveal a message on his T-shirt). And, it has to be said, the game drifted a bit.  Mexican waves began (never a good sign).  As Barca weave their spells, especially if they already have a 4-1 lead, there is a soporofic air.  Still a connoisseur’s delight, but not as viscerally exciting as seeing two English Premier league sides launching their frantic assaults on each other, the ball spilling every which way. Which is why the English media have suggested that Barca (and Spain) are boring. Well, only if you have the patience of a gnat. To watch Barcelona play football is a true privilege, football at its most refined – maybe the best ever. All those short passes back and forth may not always look like they have achieved anything, but subtly they change the geometry of the game, test the concentration of the defending team, until that concentration lapses, then bang! Cut to pieces. 

To watch Barcelona at Camp Nou, to see the genius of Messi and Xavi and Iniesta for real, is an experience I will always remember, and I hope I will return, to see Cesc Fabregas inherit the mantle from Xavi one day and become the fulcrum, the leader.

Cesc, No 4.

Kieran has forgiven him for leaving Arsenal, because this is so clearly where he belongs. Number 4, Barcelona. I bought him the new, garish orange and yellow away shirt with Fabregas, 4 on the back. It had to be done…

Get me a season ticket now!

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Summer reading, so intriguing!

Posted on August 19, 2012 by John S

One of the things I love about family summer holidays is that you get to catch up on your reading. It might be after breakfast, or on the beach, by the pool, or in the evening, before and after dinner and any activities, be it a game of cards or the open air disco.  Whatever, there is time to relax, contemplate and think things through.

I’ve managed to finish one book – Jennifer Egan’s “A Visit From The Goon Squad”, which combines a love of modern music with a wistfulness about the passage from youth to middle age and the missed opportunities – and start another: David Mitchell’s “Black Swan Green”. I’ve really enjoyed Mitchell’s other novels, not least “Cloud Atlas” and “The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet”. They combine fluid and entrancing prose with bizarre and often brutal happenings. I’ve been meaning to write something about Jacob de Zoet, which really is an extraordinary novel about Dutch traders in 19th century Japan and some nasty secret societies. Will do, in time. In good time…

But the thing I enjoy most is catching up on my magazines, in particular The Economist and Prospect. Both are brilliant and both stack up at home, because there is so much else to do. Especially now, with Twitter, Facebook and of course this blog. All eat into the time that  I might have used to read the weeklies and monthlies, though to be honest, I think the Economist has always stacked up, as I’d always read the NME or some music magazine like The Word or Q first.

But just today, after a bit of breakfast, I settled down with the June edition of Prospect and enjoyed an extraordinary variety of articles in the second half of the paper. I’d already enjoyed some reflections on Britain over the last sixty years and some troubling issues about the government in Hungary.  Today I started with a piece on the sheer variety of cultures in Indonesia and the trouble in governing it when a lot of power has been devolved to hundreds of small districts. Good for local potentates, harder for national strategy, or dealing with big mining companies. An interesting dilemma. We extol the need for local empowerment these days, but the sense in Indonesia is that it leads to corruption as local magnates are captured by big companies, and confusion as charities and NGOs don’t know who to turn to for decisions.

There was a strand running through the article on local customs, including the island of Sumbu, where they prop up the deceased for a few days while people come to pay homage and drink tea. Weird! Reminded me of when my wife and I toured round the island of Sulawesi. Tourists were invited to attend animal sacrifices, which were a big part of funerals. We declined, but did see a funeral procession, which involved a huge train of people and animals.  And all the skulls lodged in the cliffs. Spooky!

Next up was Will Self in characteristically entertaining mode analysing the advertising industry, suggesting, I think, that it was all about subliminal emotions, rather than direct hits.  But it wasn’t entirely clear. Then, the philosopher, John Gray, likened “The Wire” TV series to Greek tragedy, suggesting that it was a return to the idea that humans don’t really have control of their destiny, that the Gods, or today, the System, determine most things. Heavy stuff, but maybe in contrast to the Indonesian essay, which suggested that the system was losing control.

Then I read a review of art exhibitions in Dusseldorf – El Greco and his influence on German expressionists –  and London at the Tate Modern, which is showing a selection of works by Edvard Munch (not including The Scream). Fascinating, thought-provoking. I’ve already been to the Munch exhibition, as well as a lecture on it. I wasn’t as impressed as I thought I’d be: he came across as rather commercially-driven (all those repeat paintings) and strangely keen on taking photos of himself. But I think I’ll go again. The repeat paintings were fascinating in their nuances.

Next a short story by a Chilean novelist who I’d not heard of, called Roberto Bolano. He died in 2003, but has come to be widely recognised since then. Though not by me! The story is about a Spanish soldier who somehow gets involved in world war two with the Germans, gets injured and released, sent on the wrong train so he ends up with the SS in Russia, gets caught by the Russians  and tortured, but somehow gives them the impression he is an artist, ends up in a Siberian camp, is released and winds up as a janitor in Barcelona.  All in a few pages!

And the last piece was by Richard Dawkins, sticking a very large boot into a fellow scientist, Edward O Wilson, who takes a different view on evolution to him. Wilson has just published a book called The Social Conquest of Earth. Dawkins does not like it as it suggests that evolution can come through societal groups rather than genes jumping through individuals. That is my massively simplistic summary of the dispute. Dawkins’ article seemed rather abusive for a scientist, but also highly entertaining and informative. I flipped to the July edition to see the reaction.  Turns out it has had the biggest response ever to a Prospect article. Lots of scientific types getting very arsey! But hey, I’ve learned quite a lot from both sides.

That’s the point.  Just a couple of hours reading expanded my knowledge and appreciation of things in so many ways. Usefully? Who knows? Who cares? It’s good to learn, as far as I am concerned. I know a bit more about quite a few things as a result of today’s reading.

That feels good to me.

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Sportsthoughts (39) – The Return of the Premier League

Posted on August 18, 2012 by John S

So soon after those feelgood Olympics, all those supremely talented athletes, at once successful and humble, in tune with the crowds who roared them on. After all the smiles, the friendliness, people of all nations happily mixing, celebrating, drinking in the atmosphere…

The return of the bloated, snarling, avaricious monster, the braying, hate-filled crowds, the cosseted, isolated, arrogant players? Yes, welcome back the Premier League!

At 3pm, British time, the first games kick off. I’m sitting in the Spanish sunshine, so I’m rather removed from the hype which is no doubt being generated as I write. Olympics? What were they, compared to “the greatest league in the world”? Back to self-regarding business.

But, yeah, I might feel a little anti about the League That Ate Itself right now, as it intrudes on the summer and the Olympic vibe, but I know that very soon I’ll be as engrossed as ever in the comings and goings, the controversies, and yes, the crazily entertaining football, the sublime skills, the acts of heroism, the atrocious refereeing decisions, the impassioned debate, the micro analysis of formations, pass completion rates, and all the rest.

And with West Ham back in “the greatest league in the world” it’ll be more personal than it was last season. Is the squad good enough to stay up? Yes, I think so, and Big Sam has made some astute purchases to strengthen the defensive areas of midfield: Mohamed Diame from Wigan (he looked good for Senegal at the Olympics) and Alou Diarra from Marseille. It’s a team that increasingly resembles Sam’s previous Premier League sides, Bolton and Blackburn (we’ll ignore Newcastle). Lots of big strong lads, well organised, tending to launch the ball quickly forward, either to the wings or the Big Man. The Big Man. Why, we even tried to entice lumbering Andy Carroll down to London. He is Big Sam’s ultimate striker. In fact, I think he might have enjoyed playing for the happy Hammers, but I guess he feared it would harm his England chances. Or maybe, like a true Geordie, he just hates “Cockneys”.

Anyway, it won’t always be pretty to watch, but I reckon Sam will steer us to mid table mediocrity. Then the fans will get bored and start to fantasise about Paolo di Canio, as he takes Swindon to the top of League One…

So, what about the top, territory that West Ham are unlikely to stray in to, unless they have a little run at the beginning? (The opening few games are a relatively gentle re-introduction – fingers crossed!). Well, it is hard to see beyond the two Manchester clubs, with City favourites for a second title, now having the confidence of the breakthrough. United have added Robin van Persie to their ranks, which should, in theory, make them pretty unstoppable. But I wonder. Will RVP and Rooney gel? They play in much the same part of the field. Will Rooney sulk if he has to compromise? Will RVP have a Dutch tantrum if he’s not first pick all the time. Will he even stay fit? The joys of speculation!

Hard to see beyond Manchester, but, but… Chelsea could be exciting, with their new look midfield, Newcastle might continue their upward path, and Arsenal, post-RVP? Well, the fans seem optimistic, including the one in my household. Podolski, Giroud and Cazorla are exciting buys, especially the Spanish midfielder, who would probably walk into every international team but his own. Add Walcott and the Ox and you have some mouth watering attacking possibilities. But will the defence be good enough to win the League? Wenger has made no additions there, and as I write, there’s a possibility of losing  defensive (as in Arsenal defensive) midfielder, Alex Song, to Barcelona. But one of the famous back five of old – Steve Bould – has been brought in to organise them, and the younger players will have matured. It might just work.

So, I’m going to allow a touch of wishful thinking to overrule cold judgement and predict a title win for the Gunners. City 2nd, Chelsea 3rd, United 4th, Newcastle 5th. Liverpool and Spurs battling it out for 6th – transitional years for both. Surprise success of the season? Everton maybe? QPR?

Or how about the mighty Irons?

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Cycling on a Dutch Boneshaker

Posted on August 9, 2012 by John S

The week before the Olympics, I and my family spent a week in Holland, at a camp called Duinrell in Wassenaar, which is situated between the capital Den Haag and the old university town, Leiden. It’s a mixture of tents and bungalows – or Duingalows. we enjoyed the comfort of the latter. And the sun shone all week – remarkable in this drab summer.

One of the best things about the holiday – as ever in Holland – was the cycling. I think Holland may be the most civilised country in the world. Pedestrians and cyclists have priority over motorists everywhere.  There are cycle lanes along every major road.  Only in quiet side streets are you using the same strip as the cars, but there aren’t that many cars. At roundabouts, cyclist have priority.  It takes a while to get used to this. In London, if they have cycling lanes at all, there are often cars parking on them, with impunity. Maybe the huge success of the Olympic cyclists will start to change this, but it will take time.

We hired bikes and made good use of them. They were those classic Dutch hire bikes, old fashioned boneshakers, with no gears and no brakes – you pedal backwards to stop. I see the logic of these as hire bikes.  Minimal maintenance required. And they work well enough for short journeys. Longer journeys are more problematic.  You get around well enough, but there are always a few close shaves with the lack of proper brakes – I had to swerve into some bushes to avoid a child lurching out on a pedal go-kart – and you waste a lot of energy through lack of gears. Going uphill is just about OK, but elsewhere, all the frantic pedalling doesn’t lead to a lot of extra speed.  You are basically pedalling in second or third gear out of eight. By the end of the week I had some aching muscles just above the hips from pedalling too fast too often. But it was all still a lot of fun.

Here are our beauties.

We managed to cycle to Den Haag (10km), Leiden (8km) and the beach (4km). As ever in Holland there was some wonderful cycling through the coastal dunes. In all I reckon I cycled about 120km during the week – not bad on the boneshaker.

Naturally I took a few photos on the journey…

The Wassenaarseslag beach, towards the end of the day.

Views from just further along. The pier at Scheveningen in the distance and the tankers out at sea – this is the world’s busiest commercial seaway, heading into Rotterdam, after all.

Leiden was lovely.

As was Den Haag – The Hague.

The Ridderzaal was the old parliament, now used just for big occasions.

There’s a clutch of new towers in the financial district. They lie in the background of the main square.

Den Haag is blessed with a coastal town – Scheveningen.  It’s about  15-20 minutes cycle – all along cycle paths of course – from the centre of town.  It reminded me a bit of Brighton, except everything is bigger and busier and longer and it doesn’t take an hour on the train!

And I enjoyed a beer in The Zanzibar – see below – with some cool chill out music bubbling away in the background. There were maybe fifty of these bars and they were all pretty busy at 5pm. For the people of Den Haag, this must be brilliant to have, especially in the summer.

From Scheveningen to Wassenaar, through the dunes, is quite testing, especially on the boneshaker. It’s not spectacular scenery, but it does have a stark beauty.  Much of the Dutch coast is like this, and it is all cyclable. Again, I give my thanks and praise to the Dutch people for having such foresight and civility to make it so.

And just to end, a couple of photos of the centre of Wassenaar, not far from our site. A lovely place.

Love it!

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My Top Ten – Bob Marley and the Wailers

Posted on August 7, 2012 by John S

In honour of the mighty Usain Bolt, Yohan Blake, Shelly-Ann Fraser-Pryce and their fellow Olympian Jamaicans, I give you my Bob Marley Top Ten!

Been planning this one for a while, but the sport’s got in the way a bit just recently. As with all of these top tens, I could do a totally different ten, and it would be just as good. But this one brings back the memories and still works as the perfect summer soundtrack. In every beach bar in the world, who are you most likely to hear?  Yes, it will be Mr Marley.

Take it easy as we work our way through… click on any title to hear the song and then click back on the page to continue reading while the song plays.

10. Johnny Was from Rastaman Vibration

A poignant song about a boy gunned down in the gang wars. The Northern Irish punk band, Stiff Little Fingers, did an amazing version of this song.

9. Buffalo Soldier from Confrontation

Late Marley with a chugging beat and a tale of the black men who fought in the American civil war. My kids always loved the beat to this one in the car.

8. Could You Be Loved (12” Mix) from Uprising

Bob’s biggest dance record. Early eighties. This was on at every party. I’ve put the 12 inch mix on here because this was the one that always got people dancing.  Memories!

7. Redemption Song from Uprising

Maybe the most resonant song he left us with.  A simple guitar thing, with no reggae beat.  But a worldwide appeal. I remember a wonderful version from Joe Strummer, not long before he died. Campfire music.

6. Lively Up Yourself from Natty Dread

Celebration time. Don’t say no!

5. Waiting In Vain from Exodus

Bob’s greatest love song? As Gregory Isaacs sang, cool down the pace…

4. Jamming from Exodus

We’re jamming in the name of the Lord! The ultimate cool celebration.

3. Talkin’ Blue from Natty Dread

Anyone who has read my Top Ten reggae blog will know this was in there as the Marley selection.  So maybe it should be No1. It’s soul, blues, reggae, all in one.

2. Zimbabwe from Survival

This song was written to celebrate the independence of Zimbabwe in the late seventies. It may all have gone horribly wrong in that country, but I still love the rhythm and the intensity of this song.

1. No Woman, No Cry from Live! (and Natty Dread)

Pure nostalgia! The live album in 1975 was the reggae album that started to awaken teenage white boys like me to the wonders of reggae. No Woman No Cry is probably Bob Marley’s greatest anthem. A true hymn.  The studio version on “Natty Dread” is wonderful; the live version a total celebration. It was my awakening…

The near misses!

Alternative ten: So Much Things To Say;  Natural Mystic; One Love; Natty Dread; Them Belly Full; Stir It Up; Bad Card;  I Shot The Sheriff; Trenchtown Rock, Roots, Rock, Reggae….

And so many more.

One more time… lively up yourself!

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Sportsthoughts (38) – Olympics Super Saturday!

Posted on August 6, 2012 by John S

Writing this, Sunday night/Monday morning after a day with family and friends at a rainy/sunny barbecue and then watching the showpiece race, the 100m, with Usain Bolt reasserting his supremacy.  Awesome stuff, another notch of brilliance in this fantastic Olympics.

But Saturday was something else…

It started with a visit to the Olympic Park for me, Kieran and brother-in-law John. We had tickets for basketball and women’s hockey, with an early start: the first basket ball game started at 9am.  After the beach volleyball the night before and the need to blog so it wasn’t forgotten, I didn’t get to bed until after 2am. Ugh!

Having been to the Park during London Prepares, it was great to see it full and absolutely raring to go…

At the basketball, we had excellent seats, very near the front.  You could hear the boots squeaking as the players twisted and turned. First up was France v Tunisia.

I’m no expert on basketball, but this looked like a fairly routine victory for France, 73-69. Probably could have stepped up a gear. They had a big bruiser, Diawa, who didn’t seem to do much, but held it all together, and a nippy and relatively short guy, Parker, who ran the show and scored a lot of points.

Spain v Russia, the second match, was on a different level. Spain were silver medallists in 2008. Amongst others they have the giant Gasol brothers, who both play in the USA, at the highest level.  They skulked around with their beards and huge yellow boots.  I got the impression that they expected to win quite easily, and the game started that way.  Spain were winning 16-2 at one point, early on. But Russia clawed their way back mid-way through, then fell behind again, but surged at the end and snatched the game, 77-74.  They were good and really impassioned, but I think the Spanish were a bit complacent, and should really have won.

What a good game though. Seeing the skill, the physicality, so close up, was quite something.  Something to look out for in the future.

Like the beach volleyball, there was loads of music, exhortation to clap, sing, dance, etc.  Didn’t feel quite the same in the morning, compared to Friday evening, but the MC certainly gave it some. And there was some lively mid-game entertainment. A troop of men bouncing off trampolines and scoring improbable baskets, and the inevitable dancing girls, showing some impressive gymnastic skills.

After lunch we headed over to the hockey arena.  Caught some good views on the way.

The hockey arena is pretty impressive too. Shame it’s one of those (I think) that gets taken down afterwards.

The atmosphere at the hockey was pleasant. Family-style. Not raucous, and to be honest, a little subdued. That was a due to a combination of the weather- we were assaulted by squally showers every now and then – and some pretty average, unadventurous play.

First we had Belgium v Japan. 1-1. Yeah, well… Then we had GB against China, battling for second place in their pool, behind the mighty Netherlands. A draw favoured GB, and they played like it.  Unfortunately, when they got a succession of penalty corners in the first half, they couldn’t score.  The Chinese got a couple in the second half and scored from both both.  GB roused themselves and scored a late goal, again from a penalty corner. It was the one moment the crowd really got going. But that was it, too late, 2-1 to China.

I enjoyed it though.  Here are a few photos from inside the ground.

View of Canary Wharf.

GB v China

As we headed back after the game, I was struck by the sheer volume of people in the park.  It is a massive place – takes half an hour to walk from one end to the other – and needs to be at peak times to avoid a complete scrum.  Overall it is OK. Queues are long for food and drink when everyone pours out of a venue, but otherwise you can get refreshments quite quickly, including free water. (Yes, something is free!) In fact, the whole thing is really well constructed and planned. This is a massive success for all involved, and something for us British to be really proud of.  I am proud, no doubt at all.

We left the Park around 6pm and caught the Javelin overground train – very plush and quick – to Kings Cross/St Pancras. Then homeward on the good ol’ Piccadilly.  We were back home for the greatest night of British athletics ever!

There were a couple of rowing golds earlier in the day for GB and a gold in the cycling in  the women’s team pursuit, where the British girls absolutely trashed the Americans.  Quite extraordinary. Caught that on the BBC’s brilliant on-line catch-up service.

And then the amazing night for British athletics.  First Jessica Ennis finished off her triumphant heptathlon by winning the 800m. Then Greg Rutherford won the men’s long jump – not one that had been expected. And then Mo Farah trumped the Kenyans and Ethiopians and cruised to victory in the 10,000m. By now the stadium was in a raucous ecstasy, and at home we felt a delighted disbelief. Best of all was Jess. She missed Beijing 2008 because of injury. So this one meant all the more.  Interviewed afterwards, she broke down in tears – happy tears – half way through.   Blimey, I was choking up, myself! Later there was the medal ceremony. Jess’s eyes filled with tears as the crowd belted out “God Save The Queen”. Oh, wow, so did mine!

I know it’s only sport, but it brings out the love. It’s been building all week.  Bradley, Lizzie, all the other winners and heroic losers, and then Jessica, Greg, Mo…  Britain – yes, Britain, not just England, or London, but all of you – I love you!

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Sportsthoughts (37) – Beach Volleyball, Horse Guards Parade, 3 August

Posted on August 4, 2012 by John S

So the Olympics just gets better for GB as the medals rack up. I managed to catch the two golds in the cycling this evening before I went out to see the beach volleyball in Horse Guards’ Parade.  The men’s team pursuit was awesome – completely destroyed the Aussies in the final.  And then Vicky Pendleton in the Keirin, a rather bizarre race involving a strange electrical lead-off bike for about 4 of the six laps, before it becomes a mad sprint.

All these golds and other medals, along with the general brilliance of the whole event, are creating a real feelgood factor in London. On the tube, in the streets, everyone seems to be smiling more. How do we capture this vibe and preserve it?

I met my friends Jon and Tony in a pub near St James’s Park station called the Old Star. We watched Rebecca Adlington get a creditable bronze in the 800m freestyle, had a couple of beers, and then moved on to the beach volleyball.

Whoever decided to put the beach in Horse Guards Parade rather than on a beach, say, on the South Coast of England, was a genius. The temporary stadium, holding 15,000, I think, has the most magnificent views and is superb for watching the sport.

Big Ben and the London Eye feature.

The evening was brilliant.  The atmosphere was just so engaging.  Everyone was enjoying themselves. Having a laugh.  Enjoying the beach volleyball, but also loving all the music, the dancers, the rakers (smoothing out the sand), the Mexican Waves, that French rugby trumpet thing. The lot.  It was just such a hoot.

There were two beach volleyball games. Now, I’m sure I had booked women’s quarter finals.  But we got a men’s game as well as women’s.  Last 16 I think.  First up the men, Spain vs Brazil. Brazil won 2-0 in sets.  But both sets were really close. Then it was Russia v Austria, women. Same Austrians who beat Australia. And they won again last night (as it now is as I write). 2-1. The crowd seemed behind Russia. Whether it was in any way about their looks and the fact that even in the chill of evening they stuck to bikinis, I wouldn’t like to say…

The women’s game was actually more entertaining because there were a lot more rallies.  The men’s game rarely had more than three strikes in any exchange. Probably because of how hard the ball was struck. The women’s was much more convoluted, with frequent rallies of 8-10 strikes. And therefore better.

The atmosphere in the crowd was the same for both games – joyous and energised.

Anyway, here are a few photos of the evening. Starting with the stadium.

Spain (dark blue) v Brazil (white).

Dancing girls (and boys).  Integral!

Man concentrating on his job!

Austria (navy and white) v Russia (red and navy)

CHEERS!

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Sportsthoughts (36) – There’s only one Bradley Wiggins…

Posted on August 1, 2012 by John S

Top moment of the Olympics so far for me. Wiggo winning the time trial. Congratulations too to Chris Froome on getting bronze, and Emma Pooley and Lizzie Armitstead being placed in the top ten of the women’s race.

Brad gold, Tony Martin (Germany) silver, Chris Foome bronze.

But Brad is the man. So impressive when you see him cycle. His body is perfectly still, above those pumping legs. The poise of a supreme athlete.

 

Wonderful too, when he cycled back onto the course, to salute the crowd… and find his family!

He has a column in the Guardian, and today there was all this technical stuff about cadences and torques. I had no idea what he was on about, but it was clearly all very important in producing a smooth and effective ride.

At least until tomorrow, Brad is our greatest Olympian in terms of number of medals. Chris Hoy in the Velodrome could hit back in the next few days. And Steve Redgrave still can claim the most golds (five vs Brad’s four). Let’s just say they are all magnificent!

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Sportsthoughts (35) – Olympic highlights so far

Posted on July 31, 2012 by John S

Wem-ber-ley!

Day 4, Tuesday 31 July. I’m at work so I can’t get intimately involved with canoe slaloming, or archery, or Grecian wrestling, or whatever, during the day.  That is always fun – the way you rapidly become expert on obscure scoring systems  or obscure sports, then promptly forget them for another four years.

The BBC is playing an absolute blinder (we’ll forget the cock up on the road race timings) with multi channels allowing every aficianado to get their fill. I’ve been checking the beach volleyball a little, in training for my visit to the women’s quarter finals this Friday evening, but mostly it’s been a diet of highlights, the visit to Richmond Bridge for the men’s road race (see Sportsthoughts 34) and an unexpected trip to Wembley for some football on Sunday.

My friends, Ginette and Shane, gave me a call on Sunday morning, saying they had a couple of spare tickets for the football that evening.  Senegal v Uruguay and then GB v The United Arab Emirates. I had no commitments so happily took up the offer.

The first match went against expectations.  Senegal won 2-0, playing most of the game with ten men after a rather harsh straight red card for Abdoulaye Ba. Mind you, maybe it was just delayed justice after the tackles they meted out on Team GB in the previous match. Uruguay were very disappointing in the second half.  Maybe the persistent booing of Luis Suarez (good old Englsh club rivalries coming to the fore as usual) deflated them.

Then it was GB against the mighty UAE.  3-1 to GB in the end, but UAE were on top for good parts of the game. In the end I’d say GB were starting to look like a team, with a largely Welsh midfield, plus Tom Cleverley, at the hub.  Once again Craig Bellamy was the best player on the field.  Never gives less than 110% (to use the old cliche).

I took my camera along, so here are a few shots.

Approaching the stadium

Uruguayan fans – what’s with the tartan trousers?

Uruguay on the attack.

Handbags – and Red for Ba.

Magnificent stadium.

Left – the dance. Right – the man of the match.

Celebration time – third goal! Coolly taken by Daniel Sturridge.

So that was the football; but the most exciting result of the day was Lizzie Armitstead’s silver medal on the women’s cycling road race. Similar circuit to the men’s, with two rather than eight laps of Box Hill.  Harder conditions because of the rain. Lessons were learned from the previous day and Lizzie went with the breakaway. She was pipped at the post by the best cyclist in women’s racing, Marianne Vos of Holland, but that was no disgrace.  It was a brilliant piece of riding to get silver.  Hopefully it will inspire the whole GB team to great things at the time trials on Wednesday and in the velodrome from Thursday.

Being a Yorkshire lass, Lizzie said she prefers racing in the rain.  Good on her!

Fight to the finish.

Vos prevails.

That silver medal

Lots of other good moments.  Rebecca Adlington getting a bronze in the 400m freestyle swimming clearly meant a huge amount to her. And it is such a magnificent arena, the Aquatic centre (see my Sportsthoughts 13).  I was watching a few of the races tonight (Tuesday) and you can feel that atmosphere.  Highlights tonight were the great American, Michael Phelps being pipped by the length of a finger by the South African Chad le Clos in the 200m Butterfly and then recovering to play his part in the US victory in the 4X200m freestyle relay. That makes him the biggest medal winner of all time in the Olympics: 19 medals, 15 gold.

Watching the swimming meant I missed Team GB beat Brazil 1-0 in front of a packed Wembley in the women’s football. Outstanding result – they could even afford to miss a penalty. Means they meet Canada in the quarter finals rather than Japan.  This is a good thing – the latter are world champions. 

Our British boys did brilliantly in the gymnastics on Monday, getting a bronze team medal, the first since 1912. Zoe Smith, a young British weightlifter, spoke so eloquently about the wonder of performing in her hometown and hopes for the future.

And that beach volleyball… well last night, how did the Austria women beat Australia? The Austrians have snow and mountains, not beaches.  What’s going on with you Aussies? Get a grip!

More to come.  I’ll try and do some music too…

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Slug!

Posted on July 31, 2012 by John S

Nearly crunched this beauty as I stepped out of the house this morning. It had been raining and that normally brings out the snails.  I’ve not seen a slug this big -4-5 inches? – for a while.  We don’t do extreme animals in the UK. My digital camera wouldn’t let me do a close up, and kneeling down on the floor wouldn’t have been good for my trousers either. But admire the beautiful, slimy ugliness of this dude…

 

 

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