Monday Moan 54

Andy Murray – who would have believed it?

The Moan cannot start anywhere this week other than by congratulating Andy Murray on winning Wimbledon.  Having come so close last year and then blubbing his disappointment in front of the watching world, he returned this time and played a brilliant final against the awesome Novak Djokovic to win the title.  He kept the public on the edge of their seats leading up to the final by flirting with defeat against both Fernando Verdasco and Jerzy Janowicz, but in the final he avoided the early stutters of the two previous rounds and produced compelling and overpowering tennis.

There is something fascinating in watching his development from a gangling, surly, unlovable character, seemingly destined to be another in a long line of British tennis hopefuls who ultimately failed to reach the top of the pile, into the world-class player he is today, who will undoubtedly be adored by the public for years to come.

 

And then what about our traditional ‘love’ of the gallant loser?  Surely this came about only through necessity over the years, in the absence of having many winners to love?  Maybe this character has been consigned to history over the past year, with the cycling feats in the Tour de France, the countless Olympic triumphs, golfing victories galore and even a Lions rugby victory to savour?

 

Anyway, this year's Sports Personality of the Year contest is over before it even got started.

 

 

I saw it with my own eyes?

We appear to have been so seduced by our camera-phones that we now see everything through the windows that they provide rather than directly through our own eyes. We all want our own pictures of things, no matter how inadequate those pictures might be, rather than to drink in the scene or event with our own eyes and then rely on the professional photographers to capture the high quality pictures.

Evolution will see to it that our arms will gradually become longer and stronger, as the need to hold a camera phone above our heads for long periods of time becomes one of the key elements in the survival of the fittest.

 

 

 

 

Wonder if they queued for their tickets?

One of the traditions at Wimbledon is the dedication (madness?) of those who queue overnight and for hours beforehand in order to claim their place in the ground on the big days in the tournament – particularly the finals and those days when a British hopeful is due on the show courts.

 

It's not just in tennis, of course, but a new tradition seems to have emerged in the way that ‘celebrities’ are given free tickets for sporting finals, no matter their level of interest in the sport in question.  So yesterday, we had the ‘pleasure’ of seeing in prime seats such people as Victoria Beckham, Wayne and Coleen Rooney, and actors Gerard Butler and Bradley Cooper.

 

And, of course, the politicians.  David Cameron and, for balance, Ed Miliband, both took time off from their day jobs to be seen enjoying the sporting action.  At least it told us that Ed was still with us.  And no event featuring a Scotsman would be complete without Alex Salmond sliding his ample, smiling face into shot at every opportunity.  True to form, Alex displayed his customary dignity and desire to avoid the limelight, this time by unveiling a Scottish flag behind David Cameron’s back – just supporting Andy, of course.

 

Sad, but predictable.

 

 

Must try harder

We have all heard a lot about how big businesses are squeezing the life out of small businesses and that we should be supporting those small companies where we can in order to ensure that they survive, that we maintain consumer choice and that we do not end up with faceless and uncaring companies as our only option.

 

I’m in favour of this as a principle. But this doesn’t mean that small companies can just assume that consumers will be there when they need them – they have to work at it too.  On a number of occasions recently I have approached small companies with enquiries about their products, wanting to see what they could offer in comparison with the well-known and large companies.  Disappointingly, most of these small concerns have not even bothered to reply.  Some have but have not been able to offer what I wanted – having a small and inflexible portfolio of products. 

 

One company seemed better than the rest and very keen to tell me how they looked upon customer service as their key selling point.  Brilliant, I thought.  I arranged to visit their showroom to look at their products and have a face to face discussion with the person who had been responding to my online enquiries.  Unfortunately, when I turned up at the appointed time the showroom door was locked.  The person inside tried his best to pretend that he hadn’t seen me, but persistent banging on the door eventually got him to open up.  I announced myself and asked to see the person who was expecting me.  “Hang on a minute”, he said and then called out through to the adjoining office that I had arrived.  It was quite obvious that the person who should have been expecting me was taken by surprise – probably hadn’t written down that I was coming and had just forgotten our exchange and arrangement.  No apology when he was persuaded to come to speak with me.  Their products were not very good either – well short of what I have been led to believe in our exchange.

 

I don’t want to use the High Street name that is the obvious alternative, but it is proving so hard to find someone else that I fear being driven in their direction.  We keep hearing that it’s a competitive market and the odds are unfairly stacked in favour of the big companies. But that’s not the whole story, is it?  Small companies need to try at least as hard as the big ones, not less hard because it’s too much bother.

Monday Moan 32

Hazard warning

Pat Nevin, ex-Chelsea player, current broadcaster and weekly contributor to Chelsea’s website, decided that when Eden Hazard kicked the ballboy during last week’s game at Swansea, it was the ballboy’s fault and that Hazard was entirely blameless.  His ‘reasoning’ was that the ballboy’s job is to get the ball back and that as he failed to do this, holding onto it instead, the only course of action open to Hazard was to kick the boy.

Oh really?  Leaving aside the question of whether or not kicking out was an appropriate, indeed the only, option available to Hazard, let’s just have a look at the incident.  The whole episode lasted no more than five or six seconds from the moment the ballboy retrieved the ball after Chelsea had put it out of play.  He ran to collect it.  Hazard ran over too.  Hazard appeared to try to wrestle the ball from the ballboy and in doing so pulled him to the ground – as shown in my picture.  The crowd reacted to this.  The ballboy then failed to release the ball immediately whilst Hazard was still wrestling with him, so Hazard kicked him. 

Five seconds – that’s all we are talking about here.  Was this significant time-wasting on the ballboy’s part?  Hardly up there with the worst examples of time-wasting that we see all the time from players when they are trying to run down the clock.

Even if it was, why on earth did Hazard decide it appropriate to kick him, even if we accept that he was hoping to make contact with the ball rather than the boy?  Why on earth did Nevin think it was right to do so?  If one of the Swansea players had been the one holding onto the ball would Hazard have kicked him? Would Nevin have supported him?  Of course not – so why was it OK when it was the ballboy?

So, if you happen to be in a queue at the checkout of your local supermarket, or waiting in line to pass through airport security somewhere, or waiting patiently at the roadside for the traffic lights to change in your favour, and spot Pat Nevin behind you, be very careful not to cause even an instant’s delay, or you will have to suffer the inevitable consequences. That spell in A&E will be entirely your own fault.

 

 

Glad I did not listen to the forecasters

I watched the weather reports with growing concern last week as the cream of British weather forecasters became more and more convinced that the East of England would be subjected to a major snowfall on Friday night and Saturday morning.  My plans for a weekend break to the Suffolk coast to celebrate my wife’s birthday looked to be endangered, so much so that on Thursday night I looked at the hotel reservation to check that the normal 24 hour cancellation policy would apply.

To my horror I discovered that the hotel had a 48 hour policy – full charges would apply if any less notice was given.  So, the options were either to crawl there through snow on Saturday morning and then wade back on Sunday night through the forecast floods, or don’t bother going at all and be charged the full amount for the room and meals I had booked.

We decided we’d go, come what may.  Saturday morning dawned bright, sunny and dry in Hertfordshire, with not a sign of the predicted snow in our area.  So we set off, convinced that as the journey progressed we’d see increasing evidence of the snow and have to suffer the inevitable delays along the way.  The further we travelled the more hopeful we became that we’d not be too delayed, but it wasn’t until we were about half an hour from our destination that we realised we’d not be seeing any snow at all. 

Of course, we were delighted to have experienced probably the best journey we have ever had to that destination, including a wonderfully clear and blue sky the whole way.  We then had two days of brilliant weather and a wonderful return journey – no snow, no floods, no need for the worry and the planning for the worst.

I know other parts of the country suffered badly on Friday night and that weather forecasting is becoming more reliable.  I am just glad that a combination of the 48 hour rule and our determination to get away this weekend meant that we didn’t cancel and thus did not miss out on a fabulous break, including two days in January where the sun shone all day long!

 

Andy Murray – what has changed?

Not that long ago, Andy Murray was widely viewed as a miserable, moaning, loser, condemned to being Britain’s best player for a long time, but unable to beat any of the world’s top three players on anything other than the rarest of occasions.  In many people he generated high levels of antipathy, such that they actually looked forward to him losing matches.

Things have changed.  I heard from a normally sensible and reliable friend last Friday that they were confused by their changed view of Andy Murray and were now hoping he’d win the Australian Final when a year ago they would have settled down with their favourite food and drink to enjoy watching him lose and then be miserable and ungracious afterwards.  I tried to reason with them and then offer some reassurance but, truth be told, I fear a spell working through their problems in AA meetings (Andy Anonymous) beckons.

One of my lines of argument was that whilst it was slightly distasteful that Andy had taken full advantage of Gentleman Roger Federer’s disinclination to raise anything much more than a gentle drop of perspiration on court in the semi-final, that hard-nosed Novak Djokovic would match Jockie Andy’s bucketloads of the wet stuff in the final.  And so it proved. Andy’s tartan-clad supporters (none of the Union-Jack waving enthusiasm of British fans for Andy when he’s abroad) had to watch as he succumbed to Djokovic’s powerful tennis.  He took defeat well, so much better than his blubbering Wimbledon performance (see Moan 6).

But how to explain his higher approval ratings (he was voted 3^rd on the Sports Personality of the Year contest this year – although we have to remember that the word ‘Personality’ in this instance is just longhand for ‘person’).  Maybe some people found his blubbering endearing, but I suspect it is more to do with our natural (if slightly unedifying) desire to associate ourselves with winners rather than losers.  Since winning the Olympics and the US Open, with Rafael Nadal’s apparently hopeless battle with injury, and with Roger Federer’s inevitable decline as he gets older, Andy suddenly looks like the real deal – so who wouldn’t want to support him now?

 

The never-ending election process in the USA

President Obama has just been inaugurated for his second term as US President.  He made a stirring acceptancespeech full of resolve to move forward on some key issues over the next four years. In many ways a more impressive speech than at his original inauguration four years ago, when hopes were so high for immediate and major change that he needed to promise less in order not to leave all his supporters disappointed. But still offering hope that America can move towards some of the principles set out in its constitution that it seems to find harder to pursue than other countries around the world:-

“Our journey is not complete until our wives, our mothers and daughters can earn a living equal to their efforts; our journey is not complete until our gay brothers and sisters are treated like anyone else under the law, for if we are truly created equal then surely the love we commit to one another must be equal as well; our journey is not complete until no citizen is forced to wait for hours to exercise the right to vote; our journey is not complete until we find a better way to welcome the striving, hopeful immigrants who still see America as a land of opportunity, until bright young students and engineers are listed in our workforce rather than expelled from our country; our journey is not complete until all our children, from the streets of Detroit, to the hills of Appalachia, to the quiet lanes of Newtown know that they are cherished and cared for and always safe from harm.”

Good luck with all that, against a backdrop of a Congress dominated by Republicans who still see Obama as one stop short of being a communist, or worse.  I find it depressing that there are those, in this country and no doubt elsewhere in addition to the USA, who seem to think that it’s helpful to object to everything a Government, President or Prime Minister proposes because there’s at least a chance that in four years, or whatever the period might be, there will be another election and they will get a chance to try to bring in their own ideas – against the opposition of those who will see another election coming up in a further four years, and so on round the never-ending loop that they call politics. 

And in the meantime, those who don’t have the means, the time or the inclination to play this game are left wondering whether anybody really cares about improving things just because it’s right, rather than changing things because it’s helpful to a political cause.   

Monday Moan 16

Protests spread over shocking insult to Royalists

Royalists around the world have reacted against the publication of photographs of The Duchess of Cambridge sunbathing topless in the garden of her holiday home.  Protesters in every corner of the world have taken to the streets to demonstrate their opposition.

 "Those who should be held accountable, punished, prosecuted and boycotted are those directly responsible for these photographs and those who stand behind them and those who support and protect them, primarily the French," a leading protester said.

He said that British and Commonwealth governments should press for an enforceable international law banning insults to the British and other royal families.

There have been protests over the photographs in cities around the world in recent days, with spontaneous demonstrations by mobs of angry old ladies, who have made fairy cakes and set up bring and buy stalls outside French embassies. When questioned, none of the protesters had actually seen the photographs, but they had read about it in the Daily Mail so knew it must be true.

The “tut-tutting” could be heard from miles around.

The obscure, poor quality photographs at the centre of the row show the Duchess as a beautiful, if rather thin, young woman, comfortable with her body and with her new husband, apparently deeply in love and unaware that she is being spied upon.

The world needed to know Royalists "would not be silent in the face of this insult", said the protester, who branded the photographs the most dangerous insult to Royalists ever.

 

Didn’t take long, did it?

Oh dear, the Guardian's columnist Simon Jenkins has become the first journalist I have seen to break with the self-imposed restraint code operated by the media during the Olympic and Paralympic Games.

In his column on 11th September  he takes a number of huge swipes at the "sobbing with joy and weeping with ecstacy" of the London media and politicians. Nice touch to suggest it was a London issue - that should help garner support from everywhere else.

He makes numerous references to "throwing public money" at problems and contrasts Danny Boyle's entertainers and the athletes with the "nasty taste of the International Committee, it's ZiL lanes and fats cats" - lovely populist stuff there, particularly the mention of unnamed 'fat cats' - who doesn't despise them?

Of course, his praise for Danny Boyle's entertainers does not sit well with his condemnation of the "extra £40m on the opening ceremony", but hey, who needs consistency when you are ranting?

Wild, unsupported and contentious statements litter this apology for serious journalism - "this proves only that unrestricted public spending can work wonders" - well, yes it can, but then again it might also be just a waste of money unless it is properly controlled and with a specific aim.  "The same is true of defence. No sum is considered too great and no return too abstract". Oh really?  Why then have we had such an uproar about defence cuts? No unrestricted public spending there, surely?

And then the priceless "if it [the Government] can blow £9.3bn on sport why not shower money on intellectually rather than physically gifted young people and call it a university?". (note: it’s difficult to find official Government data, but some estimates suggest that public expenditure on tertiary education has been more that £10bn each year since the Olympics were awarded to London)

The whole article is full of statements that could be picked apart, but why bother? The press is back where it feels most at home - criticising, carping, undermining.  It was a lovely summer without this insidious nonsense, but all good things must come to an end I suppose. It would have been nice if we could have had a few more days though, but I guess they were champing at the bit for the Games to end. Normal service has been resumed.

 

 

Sports Personality of the Year (SPOTY)

According to Barney Ronay, apparently chief sports writer of The Guardian, the reason for Andy Murray having taken so long to become a real British sporting personality is nothing to do with him being sullen, scruffy, chip-on-both-shoulders, spoilt youth, but the fact that he was not born in Surrey.  He calls on the great British public to demonstrate that SPOTY can be "more than a self-serving irrelevance stewarded by a clique of home counties voters".  No sign of The Guardian pandering again to the anti-London and the South-East brigade there then.

Equally, no guidance from Barney as to who that 'clique of home counties voters' would like to see crowned SPOTY this time - so how are we to know who shouldn't get our vote?  He suggests they would chose to vote for people like Steve Redgrave and Seb Coe, as if this was somehow wrong.  How can it be wrong to support people who, in their eras, were the best in the world at times when Britain was not endowed with many who deserved that title?

It's all very well writing humorously Barney, but have an eye for factual accuracy and at least a modicum of logic.

 

 

Downton Abbey

Apparently, I am not allowed to say anything about Downton Abbey, the story of every-day, simple folk now set in the years after the First World War.  It is a national treasure above lampooning.

 

 

 

 

Monday Moan 10

Special Souvenir Olympic Edition

Obviously, as there's nothing else happening anywhere in the world this week, the Monday Moan is following the rest of the UK media in concentrating upon the Olympics.

BBC – could do better

The BBC has not distinguished itself so far in so many little ways – some of which are covered in the Moan this week. 

First we have the constant switching from one channel to another, often without continuous coverage, so that you miss some of the action whilst, say, BBC1 takes over a session from BBC2.

Second, and probably most irritating of all, our sporting enjoyment has been interrupted by pointless advertisements for forthcoming BBC programmes, usually Dr Who or Eastenders.  This advertising of the BBC’s own programmes is hugely annoying at all times, but it’s just crazy to subject the watching public to this in the middle of the greatest sporting spectacle the world has ever seen.

These two failures are often used in combination by the BBC – we have come to recognise that the promise that “coverage is now continuing on BBC2” actually means there will be a two minute gap in coverage whilst the BBC plugs some upcoming drama programmes – so we all reach for the remote control and see what we can watch on another channel.

 

The BBC has also decided that before any significant action we all need to watch little film clips they have pulled together showing the ‘background’ to the featured competitor.  Pointless and deeply annoying for sports fans, and not really terribly helpful to non-sports fans who might have been lured into watching the action.  It simply destroys the build-up of tension before the event itself, and reached its nadir with the absolutely ridiculous decision to cut away from the build-up to the start of the final event in the Heptathlon, the 800 metres, where at that stage there could not have been anyone watching who did not know all they needed to about Jessica Ennis and what was about to happen.  That didn’t stop the BBC, of course, and so we had to endure their pre-planned film insert and came back to the live pictures to be told that “well you have just missed the biggest cheer of the day as Jessica Ennis was introduced to the crowd”. 

Precisely.  Shame on the BBC.

Not having access to Sky or Virgin, I don’t know if these same irritations occur in their coverage, but if they do then shame on them as well as on the BBC.

“So, you’re a failure – tell us how it feels”

The current practice of grabbing competitors for an interview as soon as their event has finished is leaving me cold. 

Apparently some viewers find the desire for physical contact with the competitors (as done most notably by Paul Jones after athletics events) rather unnerving and creepy.  For me though, it’s the desire to thrust a microphone under their nose for an instant reaction.  If somebody has won then perhaps that’s fair enough – although understandably, in the heat of the moment not all of them can string together a coherent sentence.  But why do we have to intrude on those who have just seen their dreams shattered, who have seen four years of hard graft go unrewarded?  “Well that was disappointing to finish last – do you think you’ll retire now?”  What sort of a question is that? 

The BBC no longer confines itself to interviewing British competitors either.  I so wanted Tyson Gay to give an honest answer to Phil Jones after the 100 metres final yesterday, moments after he had come fourth and just missed a medal.  Jones asked him “can you tell me how you’re feeling right now?”  BBC executives must have feared some choice language was about to hit the airwaves, but Gay kept his cool and simply said “I’m hurting right now”.  Honest …………………. but only to a point.

Vanity knows no bounds?

Talking of Tyson Gay, he appeared to have shunned the trend for sportsmen to shave all their bodily hair, in favour of a suspiciously well-groomed underarm look ….

It’ll never catch on, surely?

What it says on the tin?

I'm not convinced that we are being told the truth in everything to do with this Olympics.  For example, the Trading or Advertising Standards people might wish to consider whether it was a little harsh for this Turkish lady to be forced to wear this branding …….

But even if this one gets past their scrutiny, then surely allowing this lot to take part in the Coxless Fours was a clear breach of their rules?

Sadly, the evidence for or against Bryan Cocquard is inconclusive ….

True Brit .....no more tears

No tears this time for Andy Murray – a true Brit at last.  He may have struggled with whether or not to sing along to the national anthem, but he seemed to have no problems with the Union Jack he was handed after the medal ceremony yesterday.  He also managed to contain the tears this time – victory must be less emotional than defeat.

Congratulations to him on such a clear cut victory over Roger Federer, and shame on the commentator I heard suggest that Roger had demonstrated what a gentleman he was in gifting Britain’s favourite Scotsman the title by not turning up for yesterday’s match.

Monday Moan 7

Reform of the Lords

Last week’s debates in the House of Commons over proposals to reform the House of Lords were bewildering to many people – not just those who took part in them.  All the major political parties are in favour of reform. 

The debate last week was impassioned, but the opponents of the Bill were united only in their opposition, not in their reasons for opposition.  Amongst the Tory ‘rebels’ it seemed that behind the various arguments they put forward, the overwhelming mood was of increasing indignation that they are beholden to the Lib Dems for the continuation of their time in Government, and want nothing more than that the Lib Dems should just knuckle-under and accept what the Tory majority wants.   That and a fear that a reformed second chamber would be more powerful than the current version. The Labour Party wants reform – but it wants reform on its terms rather than the Coalition’s.  After all, the Labour Party hardly had time to make any progress on the issue during its own 13 years in power.

All very interesting, of course, but after all these years of talking about real reform, the UK still remains the only major country in the world apart from Canada to have a wholly unelected second chamber – and even theirs has no hereditary element.

Emperor's New Clothes?

The opening night of the BBC Proms is an occasion to which music lovers look forward with growing excitement as the day approaches.  Sometimes the day provides a concert and a performance that lifts the heart and sets the whole lengthy Prom season off on just the right foot.  But not always. 

This year's Prom season got under way last Friday with the world premiere of a piece by Mark-Anthony Turnage called 'Canon Fever'.  The Guardian's reporter described it as  “a saucy piece, instantly likeable and utterly appropriate to the occasion.”   Hmm.  That certainly wasn’t my reaction.  Call me a Philistine if you like, but it sounded to me as though it had been composed by means of the ‘give 100 monkeys 100 typewriters’ principle.  You can judge for yourself by listening to the whole concert on i-Player for the next few days.  But if life is too short and you just want the buzz of the three minutes the piece lasts  then this is the place for you. 

On the other hand, if you want to know what I really thought then try this instead.

A Quiet Sunday Morning?

My neighbour’s house has been unoccupied for five months following a major water leak earlier this year.  The reinstatement of her house is being covered by insurance. 

My house was damaged by the water leak.  My insurance company has very generously estimated the cost of repair at around one quarter of the true cost.  I cannot claim on my neighbour’s insurance because to be successful I would have to prove that she had been negligent in not preventing the leak.

My neighbour is being accommodated elsewhere whilst the rebuilding work takes place.  I have to listen to the drilling and banging from the empty house next door.  The builders have also now taken to working  from 8am on both Saturdays and Sundays. 

Enjoying a lie-in on a Sunday morning?  Yep, that’s something I used to do L

Big Girl's Blouse - part 2

I came in for some stick after last week’s piece on Andy ‘big-girl’s-blouse’ Murray’s blubbing performance at Wimbledon.  Apparently, there are those who think he has become more human through this lachrymose behaviour, and that we have seen a different and more lovable side of him. 

I saw Andy on last week's 'Mock the Week'.  He looked like he was enjoying himself, which was great.  But the comedians were treading on eggshells so as not to offend him, which is not how they behaved on other topics during the rest of the show.  And the audience got to their feet to applaud our Andy - hopefully for his gallant performance during the match rather than his abject one afterwards.

But surely most Scots would say he has to ‘man-up’ wouldn’t they?  After all, if they can listen to bagpipes in public without crying then losing a game of tennis shouldn’t be a problem.

Monday Moan 6

Just in time

I had been assuming I'd be able to write a piece about Andy Murray and the annual mascochistic festival that is Wimbledon.  Seventy-six years and counting ......

But things started to go wrong.  First Andy Murray failed to play his role of over-hyped loser and not only kept going and made it to the final, but played some great matches along the way.  Then we were distracted and a little confused by headlines about Marray becoming the first British winner for seventy-six years ................ had I missed this momentous laying of the Fred Perry ghost?  Turned out that I hadn't but that some imposter had tried to cash in on Andy's fame by winning the doubles under an almost identical name.

Then we had the final itself and Andy Murray again failed to meet our expectations of crumbling when it mattered. Instead, he won the first set and then produced some great tennis.  He lost, of course, but then it's probable that every other tennis player who has ever appeared at Wimbledon would also have lost to Roger Federer is that form.

But, thank goodness, Andy came through in the end with what can only be described as a major 'big girl's blouse' moment. Not for him the stiff upper lip. Not for him the quiet acknowledgment that he had simply been beaten by the better man.  True, he eventually managed to utter the right words of congratulations to Federer, but his inability to avoid blubbing like a baby was either heart-rending or cringeworthy, depending on your own emotional persuasions. 

Can't imagine that kind of behaviour would have been acceptable the last time a British man was in the Final in the 1930s, when men were men and nothing could detract from the masculinity of the players ............  if you could ignore their names, that is. 'Bunny' Austin?  How did he ever allow that one to catch on? 

I'm furious ...... I think

Diamond Bob's appearance at the Treasury Select Committee last week did not go quite the way he would have hoped. That's to say, nobody seemed impressed with what he had to say or with the man himself.

Even his admission that there had been 'reprehensible behaviour' cut very little ice. Sincerity was not the most plausible interpretation of his stance.

I like the approach of Chris Addison on last week's 'Mock the Week' - something along the lines of "we are all furious about this scandal, but nobody knows why".  Precisely.  Most of us have only a vague idea about the City, the financial system, the way everything works.  But we all know bankers and people who work in the City are bad. They are out for themselves, they make huge amounts of money at our expense, they maniuplate things to help them bolster their gains - and when we get an opportunity they should be put in the stocks and we should all be allowed to throw whatever we like at them (see also Robin van Persie, below). 

That's so much easier than having to work out why manipulating interest rates so that they stay low is a bad thing for the rest of us.

Toothless Committees?

If Diamond Bob was unimpressive then so was the Treasury Select Committee.  A series of statements rather than probing questioning, set piece and rehearsed 'anger' rather than insight and pursuit of the truth.

But then why should we have expected this Committee to be any different from the rest?  These Committees are either good at self-publicity or the media (particularly the BBC) has decided to bestow upon them an importance far greater than has previously been the case.  How often these days to we find out on the 'Today' programme that a Committee of MPs has reported that ...... blah, blah, blah.  We then get to hear from the Chair of whichever Committee it might be - these days quite often Margaret Hodge (Public Accounts) or John Whittingdale (Culture Media and Sport).  Do these people fill us with a quiet, calm satisfaction that they are able to get to the bottom of whatever issue it is that they choose to investigate and that their repots will contain penetrating and vital analysis and conclusions? 

Er, no, not really.  Their reports are mainly written by the clerks and 'special advisors' they employ. The oral evidence sessions usually manage to reveal not much more than that most MPs are reasonably competent at reading aloud questions written out for them to ask. The Chairs rarely say anything more than a superficial soundbite or two and never seem to be asked any difficult questions by their interviewers. And whilst Ministers do have to respond in due course, nothing much happens beyond the Committee getting on with its next damp squib of a report.

I love you - now where's the money?

Nobody should be surprised that Robin van Persie has decided to move on from Arsenal in pursuit of more money.  But he treats everyone with contempt when he says he is going, despite his love of the club and its fans, because he disagrees with the strategy of the Manager and Board.  Why do players (or is it their agents) come up with kind of rubbish all the time? 

Conventional 'wisdom' has it that Arsenal are not prepared to invest money in proven players because of the cost of doing so , and would rather find a few promising youngsters who might develop into stars.  According to the 'logic' of this 'wisdom' any club could buy success if it had a mind to do so and the owners of Arsenal are simply being pig-headed in not following this path.

Let's leave aside questions around the imminent introduction of new rules that will (ok, should) require clubs to become financially viable. Let's ignore awkward issues like only one team can win the League even if they all spend huge amounts of money. Let's park for now any discussion of whether van Persie is anything more than a reasonable player who has had his one season of everything falling into place. Let's put aside any questions about whether he should have shown more gratitude for the support given to him by all at the club through some serious personal problems and persistent injuries.  Let's not ask whether anybody seriously doubts the ambition of a club that has followed up improving its league position to third last season by strengthening its squad since then with the addition of two proven internationals. 

Instead, let's just ask whether this isn't really just about the money.  And whilst we are thinking about that, let's ask ourselves whether wages in excess of £200,000 a week are really necessary - even for inflated and ungrateful egos.