Beat that on Belgium if you can

The traditional response to the defeat of a 'big team' by a 'little team' is to reprise the famous Norwegian commentary; Maggie Thatcher, Winston Churchill etc, your boys took one hell of a beating.
I was struck that this reaction was unusually absent from social media after the giant killing of Belgium by Wales. Wondering why it occurred to me that actually the old joke about the difficulty of naming 5 Belgians was true. The Norwegian commentary could not be done because noone could fill a tweet of 140 characters with a list of Belgians that people would have heard of.
Unable to resist a challenge, I decided overnight to give it it a go. After 8 hours extensive research here is my commentary-

"Georges Prosper Remi*, Tintin, Snowy**, Plastic Bertrand (sadly French), Stella Artois (counts as two), Jean Claude Juncker (nope, from Luxembourg), Jeanne-Claude Van Damme, the Belgian Prime Minister (err, they still do not have one), Marouane Fellaini (disallowed as was playing and therefore could not be one of 'your boys'), Hercule Poirot.  Your Boys Took One Hell of a Beating."

Obviously 3 were fictional characters, and 2 were actually a beer but not a bad effort. See if you can do better.

*Herge
**Tintin's dog

Sit-Com Gold on the Big Screen

The latest TV comedy to be turned into a film is Absolutely Fabulous. I never found 'AbFab' particularly funny. More over-acting than comedy but each to his own of course.
It did start me thinking about the other TV sitcoms turned into films. The first I ever saw was On The Buses, where Stan (Reg Varney), Blakey, Jack, the miserable bald bloke who drove a motor-bike sidecar and his plain (is that ok?) wife, Olive, et al decamped from the bus garage to a holiday camp. My memories are vague now but I think the highlight was Stan blowing up the chalet when he dropped a fag in the toilet, which for reasons I cannot now remember had recently had a load of paraffin emptied into it. Inevitably Blakey was singed and, wait for it, said "I'll get you Butler." 
The film was pretty awful, but there again watching repeats of the original on ITV 4, reminded me that the TV series was terrible as well - and it proved that my mum was right about Stan and Jack's terrible table manners. Actually On The Buses was at its funniest in the take off by Paul Whitehouse and Harry Enfield.
Next was Porridge, and its film was pretty good. It can still make you laugh on a wet Sunday afternoon. The first Dad's Army was weak, nothing like as good as the peerless TV sit-com. At least though it was better than the truly awful film remake which came out earlier this year.
Monty Python was not my thing anyway, and I confess - shock, horror - I have never seen Life of Brian.
Are You Being Served still makes me smile, in an admittedly slightly dated politically incorrect way, and its feature film spin-off really (yes really) was not bad.
More recently the Inbetweeners films were rather good, although uncomfortable to watch with your teenage children.
Could it be that the Absolutely Fabulous film is better than the TV series? I have fond memories of Joanna Lumley from The New Avengers so might have to find out.

Sid Waddell, the Lager Socialist

For many years I put Sid Waddell, darts commentator, in the same bracket as Dickie Bird, cricket umpire. Both on occasions got more attention than the sportsmen. The best umpire should not be noticed, and Dickie gave me the impression that he wanted to be the centre of attention. Likewise I wondered whether Waddell's allusions to Shakespeare, Greek mythology, the planets and so on were really just him showing off how clever he was. Peak Waddell saw Stephen Fry join him in the commentary box for a stint , with me at least wondering who was really laughing at who.

I needed a break from in/out, Levae/Remain, political insults and 24 hour rolling news on a PM resigning and a Leader of the Opposition not resigning so decided to give Dan Waddell's biography of his dad, 'We had some laughs',  a go.

What I found was an affectionate account, but by no means a hagiography. Sidney was obviously not the easiest person to live or work with. He was egotistic, could be boorish, held grudges and was often insecure. 

Dan's writing flows and the best bits are really funny. Sid really did love and admire the darts players, and felt it was his duty to chronicle these working class heroes.

I was startled to learn that Sid's first attempt at fame was as a writer of soft porn novels. He created Bedroll Bella, who was a female version of the character played by Robin Askwith in the Confessions series (which obviously as a teenager I never watched or read). The book was published and Sid had high hopes of it being the first in a series. Sadly - for him although probably not for the wider literary world - Bedroll Bella was a victim of Mary Whitehouse, with both WH Smith and John Menzies refusing to stock it, as a result of her (that is Mary's not Bella's) Festival of Light Campaign. That was Sid's story anyway, but his son suggests that the flop may have been because the book was not very good - 'with a plot as skimpy as Bella's knickers.' 

Waddell senior though remained proud of Bedroll Bella until his dying day, believing that he was the first fiction writer to employ the term 'vinegar stroke.'

Sid definitely did create the show The Indoor League, which I can remember watching on lunchtime TV in the 1970's when I should have been studying for exams. It was introduced from the Leeds Irish Club by Fred Trueman, pipe in one hand and pint in the other, with the catchphrase on the approach to the commercial break of "Aye'll sithee"*.

The sports featured included shove ha'penny, arm wrestling, pool, table football, cheese skittles, table skittles and bar billiards. It was the darts though that provided the best telly, enhanced by Sid ensuring that all the players were given unlimited free booze. The best darter was the Welshman, Alan Evans, 'the Cochise of the concentric rings' as Sid described him. Most of the darts players on the Indoor League were recruited fairly randomly from the pubs of Yorkshire, and were pretty crap. Evans genius therefore stood out even more, with in his case the free beer helping. Sid reported that Evans drinking number was 8, the number of pints he need to be at his most accurate.

As darts boomed, with coverage of the world championship on prime-time BBC, the Darts authorities became more sensitive about the sport's image. The Fat Belly / Even Fatter Belly sketch on Not the Nine O'clock News, where Oxbridge educated middle class comedians poked fun at the excesses of the working class arrow throwers, meant Sidney (also Oxbridge educated but from a very different background) had to employ euphemisms to describe the drinking. When the great Jocky Wilson was missing the board because he was drunk, he was guilty of 'over preparation. 

Sid loved going to the pub, and had firm ideas on pub etiquette. 

1. Most important - buy your round

2. If you were drinking quicker than others don't tap the table and break the rhythm of others. Instead buy yourself an 'inbetweener.'

3. (in contrast to 2.) Nor nurse your drink. If others were ready and it was your round, you buy it.

4. Never jump the queue at the bar.

5. Never hold others up by paying in any other way than in cash.

6. If you were pissed, go home. 

Not surprisingly given his background Sid's politics were to the left. When one of his drinking partners started using the Pudsey Conservative Club Sid declared he would only enter the building in order to lay dynamite under it. Dan though suggests this may have been for effect, and that when sober he was more apolitical than revolutionary. He describes his dad as a 'lager socialist' in that his views grew more left wing according to how much he drunk. Sober he was rumoured to vote Liberal Democrat!

There are many genuinely funny anecdotes in the book which certainly cheered me up at this tense time for our country. Sadly though there is one occasion where Dan is reduced to toilet humour. Sid's fame was spreading and as a result he started doing celebrity commentating gigs. One was for a local cricket club charity day, 'highlight' of which was a competition to guess where a donkey had a crap (as I said not funny). The donkey did not arrive but an enterprising club member replaced him with a horse. The cricket pitch had been divided into squares and people paid for one. The square in which the horse took a dump was the winning one.

Sid's role was to sit on a gantry above the club house and commentate on the event. Fuelled by many pints of Webster's Bitter Sid did his best to liven up the 'action'. Unfortunately the horse was constipated and took hours to defecate by which time everyone had given up and gone inside. Obviously I repeat not clever and not funny at all.

*Yorkshire for 'I will see you later'

So that's the reason

Pakistan are the visitors for the second half of the summer, and it will be a surprise if the latest renewal of the cricket rivalry between England and Pakistan does not involve controversy and even acrimony.
Probably because Javed Miandad and Imran Khan played for Sussex I have always had a soft spot for the Pakistan team, despite all the rancour. As a teenager I admired the batting of  Zaheer Abbas and the fashion sense of Asif Iqbal. Maybe my memory is playing tricks but I am fairly sure it was Asif who wore flared cricket trousers when batting for Kent in the Benson and Hedges Cup Final (the halcyon days of tobacco sponsorship).
The widespread popularity of Pakistani cricketers in county cricket did not though dampen the ill feeling between the national sides at test level. Javed would fight anyone, 'Surian' (Beefy) Botham famously declared he wouldn't even send his mother-in law to Pakistan. Imran had a noble and lofty Pathan disdain for the English batsmen.
Mike Gatting, President of the MCC despite leading a rebel tour to apartheid South Africa, abused the Pakistani umpire Shakoor Rana on the field of play, jabbing his finger in his face and accusing him of cheating.
Two great Pakistani bowlers, Waqar Younis and Wasim Akram, invented reverse swing but were openly accused by 'Beefy' and the South African English batsman Alan 'Legga' Lamb of ball tampering. This controversy even led to a ludicrous libel action in the courts which did not reflect well on any of the parties involved.
Ball tampering allegations surfaced again under the captaincy Inzamam-ul-Haq, who took umbrage at being deducted runs by umpire Darrell Hair and led the Pakistan team off the pitch in protest.
Finally the last tour was blighted by the match fixing allegations which have dogged some members of the Pakistan team over the years. In truth it was 'spot fixing' (fixing an individual event within a game) rather than actually throwing the whole match, but those Pakistani cricketers involved were deservedly prosecuted and sent to prison for their corrupt behaviour.
I had always assumed that part of the reason for the rancour was an overhang from colonisation. Understandably the Pakistanis would want to get one over their former 'masters' in the great game of cricket that had been introduced by the English. However it still did not offer a full explanation as both India and the West Indies had similar imperialist issues but the ill-feeling did not seep onto the cricket field in the same way.
It occurred to me that perhaps it could be religion. After all Islamist terror has resulted in the Pakistani team having to play their 'home' tests in Dubai and Abu Dhabi, and perhaps the culture clash was greater than with former colonies which had a more relaxed attitude to such issues.
It was only when I read the obituary of Donald Carr that I came to see that there might be a more simple explanation. Carr was steeped in the English cricket establishment, captaining the 'Public Schools' Eleven', managing MCC tours, 'probably' taking the minutes at the 1968 meeting where Basil D'Oliveria was not selected for the England team to tour South Africa and then being appointed Secretary of the Test and County Cricket Board. 
The startling revelation for me though was his involvement in an incident when he captained the MCC (England) team which toured Pakistan in 1956. The England players disguised themselves in masks and kidnapped the Pakistani umpire Idris Baig, because they disagreed with some of his decisions. Mr Baig was taken by force to the England team hotel where he was doused in water and then released. As captain of those responsible for this crime Carr felt it was simply high jinks and a prank, and received a lengthy 'telling-off' for his part.
Obviously it is sometimes a mistake to judge events of a previous era by the standards of today, but it still seems extraordinary that the kidnapping and humiliation of a Pakistani umpire by the English cricket team could simply be explained away as a 'ragging' brought on by 'high spirits.'
Having learnt this history I can now sympathise with any Pakistani cricketer being pretty keen to do all he could  - within the rules - to beat England.


  

After much research I'm still not sure if backing a loser is worse than not backing a winner

Being fortunate enough to have had a couple of holidays lately has given me some time to do some important research. No not a detailed study of the economic benefits of remaining or leaving the EU, but something far more important; how to be successful at gambling.
I have read two highly entertaining books on how small groups of ultra intelligent math students have managed to make $millions by a combination of card counting and card spotting on blackjack in casinos. This confirmed to me that it is impossible for 99.99% of casino players to do anything but lose. Unless you are a mathematical genius, and somewhat socially dysfunctional with it, forget casinos as a source of profit.
In betting 'inside' information can help. If you have connections with a stable then you may hear when a horse is 'fit and ready' and place a bet accordingly. Close links to a lower, or non-league, football club might lead you to hear that the star player is ill/hungover/fed up and therefore the odds on the opponents for the next match are a touch generous.
Unfortunately most of us are not best mates with a trainer, and do not have a direct line to the treatment table at Kettering Town*.
You could therefore try a tipster.The newspaper ones all have their moments but if you follow their tips blind, you will make a loss. Partly this again is a result of inside, or at least early, information. Unless you get the tip before everyone else any chance of getting a decent price is long gone. Rob Wright (The Times) and Tom Segal (Pricewise of the Racing Post) clearly know their stuff, and indeed often tip up the same horses. The trouble for us 'civilians' is that the bookies then cut the prices of the horses they tip, taking away any of the value in utilising their expertise.
The only way to get the inside track from a tipster is to pay for it. There are many of these 'experts' offering such services for a fee, and again some do seem to report year on year profits. I still though remain dubious. Ultimately if the tipster is so good you have to ask why they do not simply back the horses themselves and take the profits direct, rather than sharing it with others for a fee? Admittedly my take on tipping services is somewhat jaundiced, having never got over witnessing one well-known tipster in a Hove bookies answering a call from a client. The tipster walked over to the runners displayed on the wall and picked a horse at random, declaring this nag the nap of the day.
My conclusion after much sunny reflection is that the only way to get an edge is the Gary Player route; "it's funny, the more I practice the luckier I get." For me it involves watching races and spotting horses which I think will run well next time.
I use horse tracking software to highlight the horse and should then receive notification overnight of when the horse is due to run again. Since February I have received 10 such notifications. I backed 8 of them. Of these 7 have lost, and one returned a small (each way) profit having come third. The two I did not back were Butney Island (completely missed the notification - won at 28/1 at Newton Abbott)  and Chelsea's Boy (away abroad and no Internet - won at 8/1 at Goodwood last Friday).
Tonight at Brighton Quickaswecan runs at an advertised 16/1 and has been highlighted by my tracker. Looking at the form I am not convinced. The dilemma is that I'm not sure whether backing him and losing will be worse than not doing so and reading tomorrow that he won.

*A club chosen totally randomly because I once saw them play on a romantic weekend away (well it was for me) in the West Midlands 

Horse tracking software reminds me that there is only one thing worse than backing a loser

Fontwell Park racecourse's "Family Fun Day" last Sunday attracted a crowd of almost 10,000. Considerably more than went to the third day of the second test match between England and Sri Lanka at Chester-le-Street.
Obviously the weather helped. It was a glorious late spring day in West Sussex, whereas in Durham it was grey, overcast and wintry (i.e. normal for the north east in May).
Even allowing for the 'hilarious' folk who go to the test dressed as monks, Star Wars characters, Wizard of Oz lookalikes and in various other modes of fancy dress, it is fair to conclude that most of the people in the crowd are actually cricket fans and have at least a passing interest in the sport.
Family fun days at the races are a different thing. The families seem to be attracted by the face painting, the fairground rides, the ice cream and the bars; the racing is just incidental.
Fair enough I suppose, if it gets the youngsters and the drunks interested in our great sport maybe it is worth it, but - as the Englishwoman who went to Syria to fight for ISIS told us on her return to these shores - it is just "not really my cup of tea". 
There are only so many times you can simply shrug as you fail to get your bet on because the bookie is having to patiently explain to the woman in front of you in the queue (sorry my feminist friends, it is nearly always a woman) that £1 each way costs £2 rather than a £1, and it probably is not a good idea to have an each way bet on the 5/4 favourite in any case.
Judging by the reports from my pals at Wednesday's Fontwell meeting it was a good thing I gave the Sunday fixture a swerve. The racing was ok but Fontwell itself could not cope with the large crowd. I'm told it was impossible to get a drink, difficult to have a bet and the sun was so strong that my head would have got burnt.
Far better to go to a lower key midweek meeting, in greyish weather, not get your face painted and actually watch the racing.
The first race on Wednesday reminded me of a very painful experience. The reader of this blog will be aware that I use 'tracker' software to alert me via email of a horse I have noted in a previous race and might want to back in its future races. I am quite selective (generally) how I use it, and I only 'track' horses that I think might improve significantly in their future races. I have done alright using it, but probably only just broke even from the bets I have made as a result. This could have been so different. One of my 'spots' was a horse called Butney Island who I had noticed ran rather well at Plumpton in the winter, having been dropped out and 'tenderly' ridden. The comment I had made when highlighting him was along the lines of 'ran far better than its finishing position suggested, back in its next 3 races if going is firmer.'
In May I duly got an email alerting me to the fact that Butney Island was due to run at Newton Abbot the following day. Unfortunately I was supposed to be enjoying some Spanish sun in Majorca. I was actually in Majorca but it was not sunny, and the wifi in the hotel would not let me access any of my bookmaker accounts. "Oh well", I thought, "there does not seem to me much confidence from connections, it probably will not matter."
Back in the UK two days later I checked the results to discover that Butney Island had won at 28/1. The trainer had explained the improvement to the stewards as "he liked the firmer going."
After that I could not bring myself to back Butney Island again, which probably was good thing, as he finished a very tired 3rd (heh, heh - but no I am not bitter).
It was good to see a tanned and healthy, if not exactly a jockey's weight, Paul Nicholls at Fontwell. After his epic battle with Willie Mullins for the trainer's championship last year, Nicholls is clearly determined to do everything to retain his crown - including entering decentish horses at Fontwell in June. Keep an eye on all his horses through the summer, as I suspect he is on a mission.
He would have had a double if it were not for the fact that even more remarkably Fontwell in June had attracted a mare who had come 4th to the great Vroom Vroom Mag at this year's Cheltenham Festival. Neil Mulholland (a trainer to watch) had clearly sorted out Pass The Times' jumping problems, and she was an impressive winner of the improbably named Shoreham Port Novices' Steeplechase.
Highlight of the day for me though - and not just because I had backed him - was Andrew Thornton's 993'rd career winner. Lensio*, as he is known, is clearly determined to keep riding until he achieves 1,000 successes. He is old for a jump jockey but remains an excellent 'horseman'. That term can almost be an insult in racing circles. It hints that a jockey is not the most stylish or strongest. Thornton does perhaps, no just does, ride with his legs further down the sides of the horse than his younger colleagues. The result of that though is he falls off less often. In this race Kentford Heiress travelled really well throughout, something horses tend to do under Lensio, and managed to hang on in the tightest of finishes to win by a nose, after running for over 3 miles.
I am off on holiday again next week to Montenegro (seemed a good idea at the time). It means I will miss Fontwell's final meeting before the summer break, and I suspect it may be even harder to get a bet on in a former Yugoslav republic than in Spain when my horse tracker software alerts me to the next long priced winner. Not backing a winner is so much worse.

NB It's The Derby and Oaks before I go. My bets - Minding for the Oaks. Boring I know but I'll be backing her at any price above evens. The Derby though is a different matter. My selection is the Aidan O'Brien 3rd, 4th, or maybe even 5th string, Port Douglas. Each way at 20/1 with Corals.

*He can't see all that well and is one of the few jockeys who wears contact lenses

No socks to win - and Ryan doubles up

Brighton on Friday for Best Dressed Gentleman's Day. I decided not to enter the actual competition as I wanted to give all the other male racegoers a chance.

For future reference though, my suggestion is that if you to want to win it you are best to include at least two of the following-

• a moustache that twirls - or at least can be waxed,
• tweeds,
• red trousers,
• a bright blue suit cut very tight
• no socks (and trousers short enough for the judges to see you have no socks),
• and/or slip on shoes with tassels*.

My reason for going though was not this frippery but to see Brighton's greatest ever sportsman, Ryan Moore (sorry Steve), ride his home track for the first times in two years. Ryan had 4 rides, and managed a double. 

Remarkably the reigning champion jockey, Sylvester de Sousa, also turned up and bagged a pair as well.
Charlie Miller, Brighton's loudest bookie, gave his usual sound tipping advice in the paddock. It was good to see Charlie looking so well after his 'massive' (obviously Chas could not have had a small one) heart attack last year.
The only disappointment was to find that George Baker (the horse), trained by George Baker (the trainer), owned by George Baker and partners (the owners) and running in the 6th race, was not ridden by George Baker. Sadly George Baker (the jockey) was otherwise engaged. If not ,maybe George Baker (the horse) would have done better than 4th. 

*I'm advised they are called loafers.