You’re Not Singing Anymore

Hasn’t it gone quiet? For three weeks, we’ve had wall to wall sport on the telly, now nothing. Euro 2004 gone; Wimbledon gone; the French Grand Prix gone; okay, so there is still some cricket to play in the NatWest series, but these are mostly weekday matches which aren’t much use to a working sports addict.

But it has been good fun. To start with, there was the rarest of rarest interesting Wimbledon finals. After moaning at the start of the fortnight that women’s tennis was dull and a foregone William vs Williams final a foregone conclusion, the Sharapova vs Williams final made me eat my words, and excellent viewing it was too. Given Sarapova’s background makes the achievement all the more special.

The men’s final was worth the watching, although I suspect Roddick’s and Federer’s backgrounds were rather more privileged. Brutal, brutal tennis it was — baseline to baseline exocets for the most part, not quite the sublime skill of the Borg/Connors semi-final in’80.

But the real shock of the weekend was Greece winning Euro 2004. How the bloody hell did that happen? They should have struggled against the hosts in the group matches, and didn’t; they should have wilted under Spain, and didn’t; the only time they did was against Russia; should have been blown away by France (the best national team on the planet) and the Czechs in the semis, and weren’t; then they only go and win the thing!

Good on ’em. Shows that it doesn’t matter how much you pay the players, or what wages the manager is on, it’s the individuals that count in the end. Greece, have a great party.

Nobody’s prefect. If you find any spelling mistakes or other errors in this post, please let me know by highlighting the text and pressing Ctrl+Enter.

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