brunskill (n.) — arcane ability of eastern European football fans to set fire to concrete.
Above is an entry from Footypedia, a little gem of a book that I only discovered this week, even though it was first published in 2008.
It takes as its premise that there are people, things and actions in sport that are undefined by a single word and sets about rectifying that omission. Read more ›››
When I was looking back at my posts about jokes yesterday, included was this one from 2004 when the Mirror got itself in terrible trouble for publishing faked photos of the supposed torture of Iraqi prisoners.
The unintended consequence of this incident was that the sacked Piers Morgan was released on an unsuspecting world to follow his smug television career, but a precedent had been set — that an editor could lose his job for publishing fake photos. Read more ›››
A sure sign that summer is coming to an end is a brief improvement in the weather and the final matches of the domestic cricket season.
On a personal level, it’s the time I remove the Cricinfo link from my favourites bar for another year, but at least I have done so with a smile on my face as Lancashire won their final match to become champions for the first time in 77 years. Read more ›››
The media has got very exercised about the number of disqualifications for by false starts at the World Athletics Championships and whether the one strike and you’re out rule is fair or not.
And it is a worry. If I’d paid £500 to watch Usain Bolt win the men’s 100m final at the Olympics next year, I wouldn’t be very happy if he was thrown out for being a bit previous on the blocks, so I’ve come up with some ideas. Read more ›››
Hands up who remembers Ronnie Corbett in the sitcom Sorry? I thought not.
For the benefit of those who didn’t see it, the comedy ran for seven series from 1981 to 1989 and centred on 41 year old, mild mannered librarian, Timothy Lumsden, his domineering mother and henpecked father. Read more ›››
I flicked on the radio in the kitchen last night as I was cleaning up after our barbecue and I thought I’d managed to re-tune it to the World Service because the gravel voiced commentator was speaking in Croatian or Gujarati or something equally alien to me.
But as I scrubbed at the grill and I listened closer, I began to recognise an odd word here and there and it dawned on me that this wasn’t a foreign language station. It was English I was listening to. Read more ›››
I’ve been think about yesterday’s post and about how why the average tennis match needs to take three and a half hours to complete and whether there might be a speedier version.
I was thinking in terms of 20 Twenty Cricket which has been incredibly successful and then I realised that I’d discovered the answer over forty years ago — Hymn Book Tennis. Read more ›››
Poor Andy Murray. The great white hope wiped out and we have to wait yet another year for the next Fred Perry. But look on the bright side Andy. At least you can go back to being Scottish instead of a Brit. Don’t get me wrong, I quite enjoy watching tennis on the telly, as long as it’s for no more than two weeks a year, and at least Murray…