The RBS (aka British Tax Payer) Six Nations 2012

Another Six Nations Tournament, bailed out by the British Tax Payer, sorry, I mean still sponsored by Royal Bank of Scotland.

The less said about Scotland v England, the better. England just about deserved the win, but not much, but at least the team selection has brought in new faces. Scotland is still starting slow. Apart from setting off fire crackers in their shorts, I don't know what can be done to wake up the majority sleepy members of the team. Of the wide awake players, David Denton was a miracle. He thoroughly deserved 'man of the match' (and please note BBC, why does it seem strange to your interviewer that the best player cannot be from the losing side?). I hope to see more from him.

France v Italy was a disappointment. It never took flight. There were some lovely tries, the Italian side keep improving all the time, but where was the passion from either team? I've played in schoolboy 1st year rugby that had more passion in it.

As a consequence, after Saturday's games, I was not really looking forward to watching today's match, Ireland v Wales. As a not too neutral neutral observer (you can't come from the border lands and have if not a foot, at least a little toe in the enemy camp), I was wanting Wales to win. They did it with some luck, but also with a lot of skill. When Leigh Halfpenny was called up to kick I was mightily relieved. To be brutal, Wales' place kicking was not inspirational, and Sexton for Ireland didn't cut the mustard, O'Gara was brought on too late. Maybe the team is missing Brian O'Driscoll's presence more than they realise. It will be a permanent absence sooner than later, and they need to sort out that issue. On balance Wales deserved to win, but Ireland can feel cheated of victory.

After the game, there was discussion of the two yellow card offences. I am not going over that territory again. but what I will say is the standard of rugby referees seems to be getting worse. At scrums the 'crouch - touch - pause - engage' routine is getting almost as slow as Sexton's build up to a kick, and the pause after the referee says 'pause' is far too long. The powers that be need to sort this out.

There were also quite a few off the ball events that never got picked up. In one game the fists were raining down and not even the commentators seemed to notice what was going on. The match officials were also oblivious to it. And while I'm on my pet rant, it's about time rugby came down hard on dirty play. I know it is a hard physical game, and it is pretty nasty out there and you accept a certain level of rough and tumble, but if a player behaves like he is in a drunken brawl after closing time, he should be sent off the pitch and out of the game. The rugby unions should have done that as the game became more professional (while still pretending to be amateur). They had their chance, now let them play catch up.

After this weekend, what are the prospects? France, Wales and Ireland (and in that order) will be in the top half, England will not make the grade, but the team will have turned the corner and RFU should not change anything. Scotland and Italy will fight it out for the wooden spoon, and I am desperately worried Scotland will get it. The glory days are behind them.

Professionalism has murdered the game north of the border as sure as Macbeth had murdered sleep.

Aden: Random Memories 7: The Cinema

The cinema was still popular at this time. When we lived in Innsworth I went to the Astra to see films. I especially remember ‘The King and I’ and particularly the scene between the King and Anna as they dance. The rest of the film was not so memorable.

Well, we saw films as a family in Aden at both Astra cinemas, Steamer Point and Khormaksar. This was film going with a difference, we were in the open air. Enclosed by the cinema walls and the dark night sky above, the huge images projected onto the screen, this was unique movie going.

For Tom and Jerry cartoons, I was very good and sat up very straight! The night we saw the Hope and Crosby ‘Road to Hong Kong’ had me laughing until my sides ached. We went to see ‘South Pacific’, my mother had seen it on stage in London and loved it very much. I recall being bored rigid by it and not understanding why the colours in the film went all funny whenever people started singing. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful and didn’t say anything negative, but I felt better when my mother said she was very disappointed by the movie and Mitzi Gaynor was not as good as Mary Martin.

There were other movies, but most have made no lasting impression on me, and I am not intending to turn this into a critical review of cinema of that time for an ordinary child living in extraordinary circumstances. Only one other movie deserves mention, Flower Drum Song. We had lived in Singapore and Hong Kong before, and watching a film full of (supposedly) Chinese people came as no surprise to me. Perhaps, for the first time in my life I felt a nostalgic twinge (of course I didn’t realise that’s what it was at the time), and that home was not necessarily where everybody, or the vast majority, was white.

I have many places I think of as home to varying degrees such as Gloucester, Singapore, Hong Kong, Aden, Cottesmore and Stanmore. My brother, ten years my junior, sadly was never with us on an overseas posting, and although he too led a nomadic life, that was only in Britain. Like me he has an affinity with Gloucester and the rugby and takes great delight when Bath is soundly thrashed!

© 2012 Gwailo54