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Saturday 31 May 2008

Fatal attraction

ONE of the scariest things I’ve ever done in sport is hurtling round the TT course at the Isle of Man. It was a pure adrenaline-rush, white-knuckle ride.
And I was ‘safe’ on four wheels - as opposed to two (well most of the time) - in the back of an old mini driven by a local lad.
The roads aren’t that great; there are sheep lurking on every bend and there is also the odd stone wall, fog and rain to contend with.
So anyone who does it for fun on two wheels - at average speeds of up 130pmh - has to have a wheel nut or two missing.
Mad or what?
A few years later I returned to the island with my two young sons - both brought up on a diet of speedway at Long Eaton - and they loved it. Standing on a bend, inches away from the action, they literally lapped it up....until a rider misjudged a bend and piled into the corner of a house.
For the TT comes at a heavy price. The sad fact is, that since the race started in 1911, over 200 riders and spectators have been killed. Talk about health and safety!
It’s carnage. It's also a fatal attraction and this year over 60,000 petrol heads will again line the 37.73-mile course.
And what draws them year after year? Speed.
In 1907 one Charlie Collier won the TT at an average speed of 36.21mph. Technology has now advanced so much that defending champion John McGuiness will hit 200mph on some stretches.
McGuiness, with 13 race wins to his credit, can overtake Mike Hailwood if he wins this year and will roar into second place on the all-time list behind the legendary Joey Dunlop.
McGuiness - married with a seven-year-old - says there is no better feeling in the world than standing on the winner’s rostrum.
But is it really worth the risk?

Wednesday 28 May 2008

The Puppet Master

WHERE were you the moment Anelka missed the last penalty and handed the Champions League final to Man United?
Chances are you weren’t in the Olympic Luzhniki Stadium in Russia.
With so few tickets going to the real fans (the rest were shared between world string pullers like Michel Platini and Sepp Blatter, corporate sponsors and ‘friends’ of the organisers) I consoled myself with watching the drama unfold in the Fastnet bar in old Albufeira in Portugal (that's the nice bit that isn't a cross between Skeggy and the Golden Mile at Blackpool).
The barman, by the way, was a dead ringer for Cristiano Ronaldo. Can't remember his name, I think it began with an F.
My better half had treated me to a week in the Algarve to celebrate our wedding anniversary. So she wasn’t too thrilled that our last night was spent watching football perched on an uncomfortably-high stool in a packed bar.
I appeased her with a large Sex on the Beach ........ that's a cocktail that consists of a vodka (a lot), peach brandy, pineapple and orange juice and a dash of something red. Can't remember it's name, I think it began with a G.
It also contains a fair chunk of fruit salad and a sparkler - which actually produced more sparks than the first half of the big match.
How could Chelsea, with their vast resources, play Essien at full-back? with so many talented individuals in their side, the Blues just didn't look like a team.
It was actually a relief when the annoying Drogba, who spends more time on the floor than on his feet, was sent off. And how much did the Blues waste on that equally annoying Malouda? Rooney was also anonymous apart from a couple of brief flashes. Surely he wasn't fit?
Every bar and cafe seemed to have installed a flat screen for the big occasion.
But long before the match dragged into extra time, the fans had become as tired and tearful as the players. Many had drifted away and found something better to occupy their time - like eating sardines.
Outside in the main square, a man dangling a couple of puppets on strings was drawing a bigger crowd than two of England’s finest as they headed for that dramatic penalty shoot-out.
Can't remember his name. I think it began with a B!