Atom Feed (xml)
I MUST admit I shed a tear or two this morning when I found out that the dear old Queen couldn’t afford to decorate Buckingham Palace.
She’s apparently got leaky roofs, deadly asbestos, damaged guttering and dicky electrics and hasn’t touched a paint brush since 1948. (Should have got Rolf Harris on the job instead of wasting his talents on that royal portrait).
If Jimmy Savile (OBE, KCSG) is not free to fix it, there’s always Bob the Builder...... or Tommy Walsh might fancy a knighthood in exchange or doing a bit of labouring on the side.
After all, plenty have been knighted for doing less. Now then, now then.
Apparently things have got so bad that a piece of crumbling masonry just missed Princess Anne (oh well, can’t win them all).
The latest estimate is that it’s going to take £32m to fix - and that’s rising as fast as the damp.
It appears that even the Royals are feeling the effects of the credit crunch.
And it must be especially hard for Her Majesty to make ends meet. After all, she is down to her last £320m.
And I feel really guilty about it. You see, I only paid 66p towards the upkeep of the Royal Family last year.
And, when you consider that they spent over £6m just on travel last year (including £22,849) on a helicopter to take the Queen to the Kentucky Derby), the £40m "donated" by the nation doesn’t stretch very far, dies it?
The Royal Train alone sets us back over £26,000 every time it leaves the sidings.
Of course we can’t expect the head of state to sit on the tube. At 82, she has to travel in dignity and comfort.
But did our thrifty monarch really need to spend £1,018 an hour on a helicopter ride?
Now this may be classed as treason and I may end up in the Tower (how much is needed to repair that, by the way?) But why doesn’t Her Maj flog an old master or two; or the retail park near Windsor Castle that the Crown Estate has just bought for £92m? (Always wondered what the Q in B&Q stood for).
That would buy a few rolls of woodchip and a gallon or two of emulsion, wouldn’t it?
Monday 30 June 2008
Wednesday 25 June 2008
Dedicated follower of fashion
NOW I’m no fashion guru. You can write what I know about Sir Paul Smith’s latest creations on a pin head.
And as someone who used to wear dessert boots, bell bottoms and an ankle-length leather trench coat, I’m probably the last person on the planet to criticise anyone.
But Royal Ascot? You tell me, what is all that about?
I must admit, I never did get Mrs Gertrude “Ascot hats” Shilling. But at least she was a character.
She was a colourful, eccentric who “amused” racegoers for years with the extravagant confections she perched on her head. (A giant daisy, a dartboard, a 6ft-high giraffe and teacup were some of her more sober creations born in collaboration with son David).
At Royal Ascot, the horse racing is only half the fun. The best bit is watching the ladies trying to outdo each other in the "fashion" stakes. It reached a new high - or is it a new low? - this year.
Once upon a time, a bare-legged lady or a gentleman without a hat would have caused consternation at Royal Ascot. Today the strict rules have been relaxed - you can now chat on mobile phones and even, god forbid, chew gum.
But to gain entry to the hallowed Royal enclosure - where divorcées were once barred from attending - racegoers must be recommended by someone who is already on the list.
Men are required to wear morning suit, national dress or uniform - brown shoes are banned, and top hats are still the order of the day. Although an estimated £100m is gambled during the event, there are no bookies in the Royal Enclosure. Convicted criminals and undischarged bankrupts remain barred from the inner sanctum.
It’s not quite so bad at the equally-snobby, strawberry-mountain, champagne-guzzling Wimbledon. But there has again been more attention being paid to what the likes of the Williams sisters and the lovely, leggy Miss Sharapova are wearing on court than how their backhand is working.
Serena W certainly double faulted when she appeared wearing a white trench coat over her tennis dress. While Miss Sharapova’s “tuxedo look” inspired by menswear certainly had the paparazzi in a lather.
She sported a cream jacket and long trousers...... before stripping down to play.
And now she's out. For once, I'm speechless.
And as someone who used to wear dessert boots, bell bottoms and an ankle-length leather trench coat, I’m probably the last person on the planet to criticise anyone.
But Royal Ascot? You tell me, what is all that about?
I must admit, I never did get Mrs Gertrude “Ascot hats” Shilling. But at least she was a character.
She was a colourful, eccentric who “amused” racegoers for years with the extravagant confections she perched on her head. (A giant daisy, a dartboard, a 6ft-high giraffe and teacup were some of her more sober creations born in collaboration with son David).
At Royal Ascot, the horse racing is only half the fun. The best bit is watching the ladies trying to outdo each other in the "fashion" stakes. It reached a new high - or is it a new low? - this year.
Once upon a time, a bare-legged lady or a gentleman without a hat would have caused consternation at Royal Ascot. Today the strict rules have been relaxed - you can now chat on mobile phones and even, god forbid, chew gum.
But to gain entry to the hallowed Royal enclosure - where divorcées were once barred from attending - racegoers must be recommended by someone who is already on the list.
Men are required to wear morning suit, national dress or uniform - brown shoes are banned, and top hats are still the order of the day. Although an estimated £100m is gambled during the event, there are no bookies in the Royal Enclosure. Convicted criminals and undischarged bankrupts remain barred from the inner sanctum.
It’s not quite so bad at the equally-snobby, strawberry-mountain, champagne-guzzling Wimbledon. But there has again been more attention being paid to what the likes of the Williams sisters and the lovely, leggy Miss Sharapova are wearing on court than how their backhand is working.
Serena W certainly double faulted when she appeared wearing a white trench coat over her tennis dress. While Miss Sharapova’s “tuxedo look” inspired by menswear certainly had the paparazzi in a lather.
She sported a cream jacket and long trousers...... before stripping down to play.
And now she's out. For once, I'm speechless.
Monday 23 June 2008
Fab finish
SHED no tears for Italy. They got what they deserved in Euro 2008 - absolutely nothing.
They showed no desire to win against Spain from the word go and often packed nine men behind the ball - leaving Luca Toni as the lone “striker.”
They had obviously decided that Toni had little or no chance of scoring - after only one shot on target in 14 attempts. Defensively negative, they were happy to play in their own half.
They also went through their full repertoire of obnoxious party tricks (most of which were missed by referee Fandel). Diving in the box, shirt tugging, elbowing and faking injury. Frustrating the Spaniards and hoping to catch them on the break.
Not that Italy had the concession on diving. David Villa tested the referee’s patience once too often after going down in a heap, again, and was rightly booked. More yellow cards should have been brandished. It is the only way to stop the man handling, holding a shirt pulling at corners that have been a feature of the tournament so far.
The studio experts refused to accept that Italy were playing for penalties and extra time. But, bearing in mind that Spain had lost three previous tournaments - all on June 22 - on penalties, I’m not so sure.This should have been a cracker, according to the pre-match hype. Instead it was a tedious, terminal bore which did nothing for the reputations of many of the so called world-class players on view.
I excuse Senna, the 32-year-old Brazilian, who had an outstanding game. He kept it simple. And isn't that how football should be played?
As the game dragged on, I had the feeling that Italy would fiddle their way into the final again. But at least justice was done when Cesc Fabregas ended Spain’s penalty shoot-out jinx and sent them packing. Good riddance.
I just wish they would take Ronaldo, Tim Henman and Joey Barton with them.
They showed no desire to win against Spain from the word go and often packed nine men behind the ball - leaving Luca Toni as the lone “striker.”
They had obviously decided that Toni had little or no chance of scoring - after only one shot on target in 14 attempts. Defensively negative, they were happy to play in their own half.
They also went through their full repertoire of obnoxious party tricks (most of which were missed by referee Fandel). Diving in the box, shirt tugging, elbowing and faking injury. Frustrating the Spaniards and hoping to catch them on the break.
Not that Italy had the concession on diving. David Villa tested the referee’s patience once too often after going down in a heap, again, and was rightly booked. More yellow cards should have been brandished. It is the only way to stop the man handling, holding a shirt pulling at corners that have been a feature of the tournament so far.
The studio experts refused to accept that Italy were playing for penalties and extra time. But, bearing in mind that Spain had lost three previous tournaments - all on June 22 - on penalties, I’m not so sure.This should have been a cracker, according to the pre-match hype. Instead it was a tedious, terminal bore which did nothing for the reputations of many of the so called world-class players on view.
I excuse Senna, the 32-year-old Brazilian, who had an outstanding game. He kept it simple. And isn't that how football should be played?
As the game dragged on, I had the feeling that Italy would fiddle their way into the final again. But at least justice was done when Cesc Fabregas ended Spain’s penalty shoot-out jinx and sent them packing. Good riddance.
I just wish they would take Ronaldo, Tim Henman and Joey Barton with them.
Saturday 21 June 2008
Doing a van Hooijdonk
SIR Alex can throw as many tea cups and hairdryers as he likes.
He can scream “tap-up” and cry foul until he goes blue in the face.... again. It wont make any difference in the long run.
Because, if Cristiano Ronaldo has made up his mind to join Real Madrid - and it seems that he has - then he will go. Full stop.
Forget that he is still on a four-year contract worth £120,000 a week. That wont be worth the paper it’s written on.
Forget that United insist he’s not for sale at any price.
And don’t believe for a minute the empty threat that United will let the show pony rot in the reserve for a year rather than let him move to Spain.
There is a limit to how much you can fine a player; how much “gardening leave” an employer can give an employee. And Ronaldo could argue, quite rightly, that playing the stiffs would devalue him and harm his international career.And, if push comes to shove, he can always do a ‘van Hooijdonk’ and go on strike.
It’s not often that a player gets the better of Sir Alex. Just ask Ruud van Nistelrooy.
But Ronaldo has been crafty. He’s been playing some neat one-twos with the world’s press since leaving for Euro 2008. He’s dropped a hint here, a whisper there - without ever really saying he wants a transfer. And this adds up to the fact that the dirty deal with Real is already done and dusted.
It must be driving Sir Alex mad. Because, for once, there is absolutely nothing he can do about it.
But I, for one, will not shed any tears when Ronaldo departs for Spain.
Yes, he’s just had a phenomenal season. Yes, he’s scored some incredible goals. But I wont miss his blatant diving; his arm-waving and bleating at decisions; in fact any of his show-pony antics.
Not for one minute. I just hope he takes Tim Henman and Joey Barton with him.
He can scream “tap-up” and cry foul until he goes blue in the face.... again. It wont make any difference in the long run.
Because, if Cristiano Ronaldo has made up his mind to join Real Madrid - and it seems that he has - then he will go. Full stop.
Forget that he is still on a four-year contract worth £120,000 a week. That wont be worth the paper it’s written on.
Forget that United insist he’s not for sale at any price.
And don’t believe for a minute the empty threat that United will let the show pony rot in the reserve for a year rather than let him move to Spain.
There is a limit to how much you can fine a player; how much “gardening leave” an employer can give an employee. And Ronaldo could argue, quite rightly, that playing the stiffs would devalue him and harm his international career.And, if push comes to shove, he can always do a ‘van Hooijdonk’ and go on strike.
It’s not often that a player gets the better of Sir Alex. Just ask Ruud van Nistelrooy.
But Ronaldo has been crafty. He’s been playing some neat one-twos with the world’s press since leaving for Euro 2008. He’s dropped a hint here, a whisper there - without ever really saying he wants a transfer. And this adds up to the fact that the dirty deal with Real is already done and dusted.
It must be driving Sir Alex mad. Because, for once, there is absolutely nothing he can do about it.
But I, for one, will not shed any tears when Ronaldo departs for Spain.
Yes, he’s just had a phenomenal season. Yes, he’s scored some incredible goals. But I wont miss his blatant diving; his arm-waving and bleating at decisions; in fact any of his show-pony antics.
Not for one minute. I just hope he takes Tim Henman and Joey Barton with him.
Wednesday 18 June 2008
Les miserables
FRANCE must go back to the drawing board after a miserable Euro 2008 campaign.
‘Teary’ Henry looked a forlorn figure, during and after the 2-0 defeat by Italy. Why did he ever leave Arsenal?
A penalty and an own goal, typical Italy as they came back from the brink in the group of death.
Talk of Holland fielding a reserve side and stitching Donadoni’s men up was irrelevant. Let’s face it. France were a miserable shambles and so was the team selection. What was Raymond Domenech thinking?
Talking of miserable, apparently Tiger Woods wasn't faking it at the Battle of Wounded Knee?
It now looks like sour grapes when Retief Goosen questioned whether the limping, grimacing Woods was faking it and just playing to the crowd for sympathy in the US Open.
Woods - who now needs another operation on his troublesome knee - appeared to wince with pain when he hit a bad shot. But he somehow staged a miraculous recovery when he hit a good ‘un.
OK, playing 91 holes is demanding enough with two good legs, never mind a handicap. And everyone knows that a wounded tiger is infinitely more dangerous.
But I don’t really care either way. Tiger Woods (legend that he is) is a pain. Full stop.
Crying with pain! Laughing all the way to the bank more like.
Talking of sour grapes, surprisingly there weren’t any from New Zealand following Kevin Pieterson’s "unsporting" switch-hitting tactics.
Even Scott Syris, victim of the two massive sixes, admired Pieterson’s audacity.
Of course, there were the immediate calls to have the shot outlawed. After all, it’s just not cricket, is it old boy?
How can a captain set a field for a bowler when the batsman suddenly changes his stance and hits the ball to the opposite side of the ground?
Let’s face it. The reverse sweep shot has been around for 50 years, Pietersen has merely taken it to another level.
It’s a great Twenty20 shot which can produce runs. But it can also be your downfall (remember Mike Gatting in the 1987 World Cup?)
Bowlers - like Muttiah Muralitharan - use every means possible to get batsmen out. Isn’t it only right that the willow wielders have the chance to get their own back?
‘Teary’ Henry looked a forlorn figure, during and after the 2-0 defeat by Italy. Why did he ever leave Arsenal?
A penalty and an own goal, typical Italy as they came back from the brink in the group of death.
Talk of Holland fielding a reserve side and stitching Donadoni’s men up was irrelevant. Let’s face it. France were a miserable shambles and so was the team selection. What was Raymond Domenech thinking?
Talking of miserable, apparently Tiger Woods wasn't faking it at the Battle of Wounded Knee?
It now looks like sour grapes when Retief Goosen questioned whether the limping, grimacing Woods was faking it and just playing to the crowd for sympathy in the US Open.
Woods - who now needs another operation on his troublesome knee - appeared to wince with pain when he hit a bad shot. But he somehow staged a miraculous recovery when he hit a good ‘un.
OK, playing 91 holes is demanding enough with two good legs, never mind a handicap. And everyone knows that a wounded tiger is infinitely more dangerous.
But I don’t really care either way. Tiger Woods (legend that he is) is a pain. Full stop.
Crying with pain! Laughing all the way to the bank more like.
Talking of sour grapes, surprisingly there weren’t any from New Zealand following Kevin Pieterson’s "unsporting" switch-hitting tactics.
Even Scott Syris, victim of the two massive sixes, admired Pieterson’s audacity.
Of course, there were the immediate calls to have the shot outlawed. After all, it’s just not cricket, is it old boy?
How can a captain set a field for a bowler when the batsman suddenly changes his stance and hits the ball to the opposite side of the ground?
Let’s face it. The reverse sweep shot has been around for 50 years, Pietersen has merely taken it to another level.
It’s a great Twenty20 shot which can produce runs. But it can also be your downfall (remember Mike Gatting in the 1987 World Cup?)
Bowlers - like Muttiah Muralitharan - use every means possible to get batsmen out. Isn’t it only right that the willow wielders have the chance to get their own back?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
