Category life

Jul 15 2012

My writing career so far…

WordPress

WordPress (Photo credit: Adriano Gasparri)

It never occurred to me that I could write.

There was the odd success at school, but nothing to suggest that I ought to forgo all other careers and take to life as a wordsmith. A couple of years ago, I started to write updates for my department at work. Encouraged by feedback, the update email blossomed into a blog. A few people suggested I blogged for a wider audience and I began the Finextra.com blog.

It was only a few months ago on a trip to Cornwall that I picked up a writing magazine purely on a whim. As luck would have it, that particular magazine was all about electronic publishing and I spent much of the holiday tapping away on my keyboard setting up my brand new wordpress blog.

WordPress.com is superb and thanks to the ease with which you can set up your blog and publicise it, I soon had a regular following. WordPress is heavily gamified and you find yourself glued to your stat’s page watching the page views creep up. I still remember my first “Like” and when I excitedly told my wife that my first comment had arrived, she looked at me as if I was mad.

Since then I have joined a local writing group made up of an eclectic set of individuals. Collective imagination is so much more powerful than anything an individual could conjure up and we have had some fun with some group writing. One such exercise has the first person starting a story with one sentence. The second person has three sentences to develop the story. The third person has to either finish the story or bring it to a cliffhanger with only two sentences. At the end of the exercise, we had twelve stories; two or three of them were brilliant, half a dozen were very good and only a handful were ropey. Not bad considering we only had ten minutes.

I have also submitted some short stories to a publisher, thinking what’s the worst that can happen? Ignoring success for a moment, in order; silence, then “Thanks, but no thanks”, after that “No thanks, but here’s some feedback”. I was chuffed when I was rejected with feedback – at least I could learn from the experience.

All in all, I have enjoyed writing immensely. I’ve been humbled by some of the people I have met in the process and cannot believe I have had hits from 58 countries.

Somehow I doubt it will replace the day job, but you never know…

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Jul 12 2012

The slowest, most amazing thing in the world

English: Mount Everest North Face as seen from...

English: Mount Everest North Face as seen from the path to the base camp, Tibet. Español: Cara norte del Monte Everest vista desde el sendero que lleva al campo base en el Tibet (China). Français : Face nord du Mont Everest vue du chemin menant au camp de base. Tibet. Italiano: Faccia Nord del monte Everest vista dal sentiero che porta al campo base in Tibet. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Every so often, Mother Nature gives us a short, sharp lesson in who’s boss. Whether it is the enormity of Hurricane Katrina or the tsunamis that have struck twice in recent history in Asia, these brutal events unfold with ferocity and yet when you see the video coverage, they seem to  move incredibly slowly. No doubt for the people on the ground facing them, they move plenty fast enough.

The sheer power of the forces involved is difficult to comprehend because most of the time, our landscape changes so very slowly. Our tectonic plates shift and collide (or separate) by distances that can be measured in centimetres every year. London sinks whilst the West of the UK rises. But when you look around at the scenery that surrounds us, every mountain, every hill and every valley has been formed by elemental, natural forces over an incomprehensible time period.

There is no shortage of impressive natural features in this world and they look wonderful in their own right, but once you understand how they came to be formed, they become even more epic in scale. The fjords of Norway were all cut by glaciers over millennia. The Grand Canyon was carved by the endless erosion of the Colorado river. The Alps and Himalayas formed by two tectonic plates squeezing together for a very long time.

There are experts who argue that mankind is causing irreversible damage to the planet and that climate change is a very real phenomena. The average temperature is rising and so are the sea levels. But there are as many experts that argue against climate change citing that temperatures and sea levels have a history of changing on a geological scale. I’m no expert but I’m certainly getting fed up of being rained on and I can’t help but feel that we’re not doing the planet any good.

I can only imagine that it must be frustrating to be a geologist – knowing that all these elemental forces have shaped the entire planet and that the best you can hope for is to see Mount Everest grow by about a foot in your lifetime.

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Jul 10 2012

Messing about on the river

English: Building a Dugout Canoe at Basecamp K...

English: Building a Dugout Canoe at Basecamp Karuskose in Soomaa National Park, Estonia (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As a means of transport, boats must be among the very earliest discovered by mankind. A wandering caveman probably saw something like a log drifting down a river and had a brainwave. All he had to do was climb aboard and he could float effortlessly wherever the river went. Logs are not particularly stable, so it wasn’t long before he became fed up with falling in and had the idea of hollowing out the log to make a boat.

The form factor of modern boats has not really changed that much from these early days. With the odd departure into hovercrafts and hydrofoils, pretty much every modern boat relies on Archimedes principle of displacement in order to float. There have been advances in things such as instrumentation and propulsion but the shape of modern vessels has barely changed from the prehistoric dugout canoe.

I have always been fascinated by boats and having just finished The Voyage of the Princess Matilda by Shane Spall, I find myself pleasantly reminded of the days when we had a boat. It was a small cabin cruiser which we moored down near Staines on the River Thames. It is barely a 15 minute drive between Staines and Windsor by car, but in our boat it took 4 hours. Firstly because rivers aren’t straight. Secondly, because boats aren’t quick and lastly because there are 4 locks that lie between them.

The nicest feeling in the world is waking up early and drinking a steaming hot cup of tea whilst sat in the morning chill on the back of your boat. The swans would drift silently through the mist with Windsor Castle as a backdrop.

We had our fair share of thrills and spills and how I didn’t receive a ducking is beyond me. I came very close on a couple of occasions. The first was when I leapt from a moving vessel onto a mooring pontoon. That was when I learned the valuable lesson that every action has an equal and opposite reaction and I barely managed to keep my footing.

English: Canal boat entering Lock on the Thame...

English: Canal boat entering Lock on the Thames river. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The second time was in a lock. It doesn’t matter how much practise you have at going through a lock. It is still very easy to mess it up and when it goes wrong, it causes much merriment among anyone there to see it. My brother was driving, I was on the rear rope and my sister in law on the front rope. Somehow I managed to end up horizontally with my hands on the side of the lock and my feet on the boat looking down into a rapidly expanding chasm of water. Somehow I managed to crab my way to the front of the boat.

So why did I get rid of it? Boats are expensive. A friend of mine maintains that a boat is something you pour money into until it sinks. Take any product or service and insert the word “boat” and the price trebles instantly. We just weren’t getting enough use out of it to justify the expenditure.

Also – boats get filthy. If ever there was a technological advance worth making, it must be the self-cleaning boat.

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Jul 8 2012

A night at our favourite dodgy restaurant

Restaurant

Restaurant (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We don’t go out for a meal that often, but when we do – we know exactly where to go. Lying not far away from where we live in a cobbled street, it’s an easy walk. Last time, as we headed towards the restaurant, we noticed two things. Firstly; the proprietor standing in the doorway (as he normally does) and secondly a bold sign outside proclaiming a new menu.

We smile at each other when we are directed to a dirty table. The slightly effeminate waiter clears the crockery away before telling us that he will soon sort out the tablecloth. After a short delay, he appears with another tablecloth and with a flourish, he lays it over the top of the dirty tablecloth before laying out mismatching cutlery. It’s no surprise that the new tablecloth is even dirtier than the original.

He hands us the supposedly new menus. Indeed they are brand new and in pristine condition. However, they contain exactly the same dishes we are used to, just with higher prices. He makes a show of handing us a handwritten list of specials. It’s a nice touch, but it’s the same list we always get.

We order drinks. Julie goes for a glass of wine and I order a bottle of beer. The menu tells me that I should get 330ml and it’s no surprise to me that I only get a half pint glass. Instead of feeling cheated, it simply adds to the experience.

Before too long, the food comes out. Mine is fine, but Julie finds hers a little dry. When the slightly effeminate waiter comes over to clear the plates, he notices that she has left a lot of food. When she explains, he apologises and calls over the proprietor. After we relay the problem, the proprietor protests that the meat is far from dry and proceeds to cut off a large chunk which he stuffs into his mouth. He manages to chew his way through the meat, all the time telling us that the  meat is far from dry, but he agrees to deduct the cost from the bill.

When the bill comes, I am happy to pay, but Julie notices an anomaly. Although we have not been charged for her dish, we have been overcharged for drinks. When we bring it to the proprietor’s attention, he struggles to work out the new total and blames the heat. Myself and Julie look at each other before glancing out the window at the cold, torrential rain. What makes it even more amusing is that he supposedly comes from a hot country.

By any conventional measure, the restaurant would struggle but we wouldn’t have it any other way and we can’t wait to return.

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Jul 7 2012

My short career as a soldier

Soldier On

Soldier On (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We had only just moved there. For the first few days it rained. I felt trapped inside the house, aching to play outside. I could only have been three years old and I drove my mum mad as I complained of boredom, hunger and about the rain. At last the rain stopped and I ventured outside into the garden. “Stay close to the house!” mum warned.

Before long, I noticed the shed. I had seen dad take stuff in and out and my curiosity was piqued. Prying open the door, I looked inside. An Aladdin’s Cave of tools, buckets, paints and old bits of wood lay haphazardly around the inside of the shed.

Some were covered in spiders’ webs. I steered clear – I don’t like those infernal creatures. One item stood out amongst the junk; a bright red paint pot which looked to me just like a soldier’s helmet. I tipped it over and put it on my head wrapping the handle round my chin like a strap. It felt very heavy and I struggled to keep my head upright.

I marched like a soldier into the kitchen to show mum, expecting her to be pleased. She screamed. The red paint had seeped down over my hair looking like blood. My dad grabbed me and began washing my hair using white spirits. They felt cold and stung my eyes.

I cried. I only ever wanted to be a soldier.

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Jun 24 2012

A morning with Maisie

English: toilet seat up Deutsch: hochgeklappte...

English: toilet seat up Deutsch: hochgeklappte Toilettenbrille (USA) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“Shall we get up Uncle Martin?”. I groan and ask Julie whose turn it is. “Yours” she replies sternly. I reach over and grope for my watch. Squinting, I can just about make out that it is 8:45AM which is actually very good for a Sunday morning. She woke up at 7AM last weekend when it was Julie’s turn.

As I struggle to pull on my dressing gown, Maisie grabs me by the hand and pulls insistently. “Come on Uncle Martin – Let’s go!” We hold hands down the stairs and she leads me into the front room. “Do you want to play in my house Uncle Martin?” as she points under the dining room table. “Yes Maisie, but can I have a cup of tea first?”

The first cup of tea of the day is something to be savoured. There is no drink like it in the world. “Can I help you make it Uncle Martin?” She offers to get the sugar and then the milk but as I tell her, I take my tea black with no added sweetness. “You can get my teabag out if you want to.” She runs enthusiastically to the cupboard and pulls out a box of Darjeeling. As soon as I sit down with the cup of tea, “Shall we go shopping Uncle Martin”. I ask her what we need and she lists off some random items.

Knowing I won’t get any peace until the shopping is done, I walk with her to the games room. “This is for dinner” she says as she hands me a plastic Peppa Pig car complete with occupants. “And this is for dessert”, a plastic giraffe this time. Each time she places an item into the bag she pretends to scan it and makes a beep noise.

Shopping done, we return to the lounge. I sink back into the sofa and reach for my tea. “Uncle Martin – we’ve forgotten the salt.” I raise my eyes to the sky, knowing that resistance is futile. Again, we go hand in hand to the games room and go shopping for salt this time. When Maisie asks a third time to go shopping, I am firm. I tell her I am drinking my tea which she grudgingly accepts.

“Can I have an ice pop Uncle Martin?” She knows she is not allowed treats until she at least has some breakfast. After the argument about the ice pop, we head to the fridge to find her some breakfast. There is yoghurt and a box of cheese dippers unless she wants some cereal. She chooses cheese dippers of which I have to eat half ‘aeroplane style’. Once all the bread sticks are gone, she asks for a spoon to eat the remaining cheese dip. She chooses one from the array I bring her from the drawer. She spends 5 minutes playing with the cheese and making a complete mess before saying “I don’t like it.” and handing me the spoon, cheese end first.

“Can I have an ice pop Uncle Martin?” According to the rules, she has now had some breakfast, so off we go to the freezer. She stands there agonising for 5 minutes over which ice pop to have before picking a coke flavoured one. The top is soon lopped off. “It’s cold!” she complains. As usual, I take her to the toilet to get some toilet roll which we diligently wrap around the ice pop.

As soon as she finishes the ice pop, “Uncle Martin – I need a wee!” There is no time to lose. We dash out to the toilet. When we get there, the toilet seat is up because I used it earlier. She berates me, telling me that the toilet seat should be down for the girls. I groan and put the seat down. Drama over, we return to the lounge. “Uncle Martin – shall we play in my house?” pointing under the dining room table. Under I go and we start to make a campfire out of some random stuff. “Do you want a sausage Uncle Martin?” as she piles Jenga blocks onto the campfire.

Eventually, I get a second cup of tea. As I sit there relaxing, the sudden realisation that I can neither see or hear Maisie (which normally means mischief is afoot). I jump to my feet and dash out to the hallway. Maisie has just shut the fridge. “It’s OK Uncle Martin – I have put the shopping away.” I open the fridge and sure enough there is a Peppa Pig car and a giraffe on the bottom shelf.

Smiling, I shut the fridge. Is there any better way to spend Sunday morning?

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Jun 20 2012

Get me some elephants!

1916 photograph of an execution by firing squa...

1916 photograph of an execution by firing squad in Mexico. Caption: “Executing an Enemy – Just over the boundary such gruesome sights as this have been of frequent occurrence during the last few years and have kept alive the apprehensions of Americans on the border.” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

There are two main reasons for society to punish someone for any transgression. Firstly to deter the offender and make then think twice about offending in future. Secondly, and usually in more severe cases, to make it impossible for the offender to recommit the offence in question. You would be forgiven for thinking that we have been punishing people for long enough to learn the most effective mechanisms for doing so. Unfortunately reoffending rates across the globe, at least for those where the punishment is not death, remain stubbornly high and the cost of undertaking most punishment methods has ballooned.

There is no real consensus with different countries punishing offenders in different ways. Although advances in forensic science have vastly improved detection rates, miscarriages of justice remain. Some of the most heinous crimes don’t have any witnesses other than the perpetrator and the victim and often it comes down to one persons word against another. Depending on the legal system, either the judge or the jury need to decide who’s telling the truth.

A very real barrier to justice is society’s attitude to human rights. In a recent European row, the European Court of Human Rights say that prisoners should be allowed the constitutional democratic right to vote. The UK government, together with most of the country disagreed. As a result, the tools available to society are fairly limited. Almost all punishment now involves either monetary punishment (in the form of fines), electronic tagging, denial of liberty through incarceration or the ultimate punishment; death. Roughly half of the UN nations still have the death penalty although the other half have either an unofficial or official policy of non enforcement.

Of course before human rights came into focus, there was a lot more scope and historical punishments show a great deal of imagination. I’m prepared to bet the reoffending rate was lower and the costs nowhere near as high. My personal favourite is the “brank” which in medieval times was reserved (mainly for women) to stop the offender from excessive talking and gossip. It consisted of an iron cage with a metal tab that held the tongue down suppressing speech.

If you were convicted of theft in ancient India, being trampled by an elephant was the favoured punishment. In ancient China, if you were found guilty of treason, you could look forward to a process called slow slicing which was probably as excruciating as it sounds. Given the choice, I’d take the elephant. In England, treason was punishable by being hung, drawn and quartered as immortalised by Mel Gibson in Braveheart. In you killed your father in ancient Rome, you could look forward to being blindfolded, placed in a sack with a serpent, an ape, a dog and a rooster before being thrown into the sea, regardless of whether daddy deserved it or not.

Most of these punishments make me squirm and I wouldn’t be happy to see them applied today, but I can’t help being frustrated by the blunt instruments wielded by our authorities. Added to this, the amount of money spent on punishment makes me angry. It costs nearly £50K (or $75K) to keep someone in prison for a year. Maybe we should get some elephants.

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Jun 20 2012

Where would you like to go today?

English: Hong Kong SAR passport stamps

English: Hong Kong SAR passport stamps (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Before I started work, I had never been up in an aeroplane (unless you count a brief flight over Dunstable downs in a glider). As kids, holidays consisted of a couple of weeks in a holiday camp or caravan park. I think the furthest we ever went was Minehead in Somerset. The entertainment was a mixture of bingo and the odd knobbly knee competition.

When my employer said that they wanted me over in Zurich for a few days, it was a cue to my fellow employees to start winding me up about how scary flying was. Although I had grown up on a diet of 1970s aircraft disaster movies, I took no notice and as the thrust of the aircraft’s engines pushed me back in my seat, an involuntary smile lit up my face. I loved the sensation of speed and the feeling of lift as the aircraft took off. The view through the window of the verdant English countryside slowly shrinking away was sublime. After hundreds of subsequent flights, the appeal has somewhat diminished.

At the time, the only people who flew were either on business or a package holiday. Air travel was expensive and usually booked through travel agents. 30 years ago, budget airlines such as Ryanair and Easyjet didn’t even exist. Today, they fly the best part of 130 million customers per year on a combined fleet of over 600 aircraft. It’s fair to say that they revolutionised the way we book, pay for and undertake our international travel. They were among the first to offer direct internet booking and their variable prices per seat tended to significantly undercut the prices of the traditional operators. The other airlines eventually followed suit and air travel is probably cheaper than it has ever been, opening up ideas like commuting to another country or just nipping over to see the Geneva motor show for the day.

Cruise ships also used to be way out of reach for most travellers being solely the reserve of the rich and famous. Most cruise ships up to the 1960s were converted liners rather than purpose built. Over the past few decades, there has been an explosion in the number of companies offering cruises. Both the number and size of cruise ships have ballooned. Coupled with the cost reduction in air travel, prices have tumbled in real terms. Not only that, but today’s cruise ships have gone to great lengths to outdo each other in terms of the entertainment offered on board. On some ships you can play golf in the morning, go surfing in the afternoon and go climbing in the evening.

A NASA astronaut jokingly advertises a recover...

A NASA astronaut jokingly advertises a recovered defective satellite for sale during a space walk (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

On the whole, people have become much more adventurous about where they go on holiday although it varies from country to country (roughly 38% of people in the USA own a passport compared with 80% in the UK).  It wasn’t so very long ago that travellers heading to Africa would probably go on a steamship and be accompanied by a big game hunter in a pith helmet. Nowadays, many people go on safari for their honeymoon.

What will tourism look like 30 years from now? There is no doubt that for many of us, spaceflight tourism will become commonplace. Richard Branson’s Virgin Galactic venture has all but sold out of the first 500 seats at $200k a throw. You can even charter a spaceship from him for a million dollars. The American government have even come up with a set of procedures for space travellers. Will I be partaking? Well, no, not at that price. Even if it was cheaper, it all sounds a little bit dangerous with roughly 1 flight in 50 resulting in fatalities.

I wonder how long it will be before we get an “Easyrocket” or “Ryanspace”

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Jun 14 2012

Unintended Sri Lanka

English: Ketchimalai Mosque- Beruwala, Sri Lan...

English: Ketchimalai Mosque- Beruwala, Sri Lanka Français : Mosquée Ketchimalai, Beruwala, Sri Lanka (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Just before our honeymoon, we received an apologetic letter from the travel agent we had used to book explaining that due to unforeseen circumstances, they had to cancel our trip and refund our money. This was not welcome news. We had weeks in which to find another holiday and it needed to be somewhere special. My wife to be was too upset so the task fell to me. I had never taken a package holiday in my life and every page in every brochure looked remarkably similar to me.

There was one location that called out to me. I don’t really know why, but Sri Lanka sounded exotic and I didn’t know many people who had been there. It also had the considerable merit of fitting within our beleaguered budget. I phoned my partner to explore the idea and she readily agreed. Moments later, the trip was booked. There was a note of mischief in my partner’s voice and she knew I didn’t want to go anywhere too adventurous so I looked up Sri Lanka.

I read with alarm that the island lay close to the equator with a tropical climate and that it had the highest incidence of snakebite death of any country in the world. It was going to be my first visit to Asia and the culture was completely different to anything I had ever experienced before. Still, the Arabs liked the island so much, they named in Serendib (which is the origin of the word Serendipity).

When we stepped off the plane, I assumed that we were in the wash of the nearby engines, but as we walked towards the terminal I realised that it really was that hot. Inside the Terminal, it was chaos. I have never seen so many people scurrying around like ants. Eventually we located our luggage among the unlikely items spinning around the luggage carousel such as fridges and parcels tied up with string and made our way to the Coach.

Our escort explained that the hotel lay 38km away so the journey would take approximately 3 hours to get there. The flight had taken 11 hours from Heathrow, so we were both shattered and assumed that one of those figures must be wrong, but as we wound our way through the roads of the capital, we began to understand why.

English: Auto rickshaw in Polonnaruwa, Sri Lan...

English: Auto rickshaw in Polonnaruwa, Sri Lanka Français : Tuk-tuk à Polonnaruwa, Sri Lanka (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Outside the coach windows, there was bedlam. The roads teemed with bicycles, motorbikes, trikes (called Tuk Tuks we were to learn), cows and elephants. We were used to traffic travelling in an orderly fashion. There were vehicles on the wrong side of the road. Sometimes it looked like there was going to be a head on collision before one vehicle or another gave way. All this was played out to a cacophony of car horns. Some like klaxons. Some playing out a melody. All of them noisy.

There were paradoxes everywhere we looked. A line of children dressed in pristine school uniforms filing their way out of a hut at the side of the road. A stunning car dealership standing amongst a number of ramshackle dwellings made of oil drums and wooden pallets. A lady fastidiously sweeping the small area outside her hut. Western fast food outlets serving unrecognised Asian variations on their menus.

Arriving at the hotel, the tiredness seeped away as we tucked into a welcome cocktail. The complex lay on the coast amongst a stunning rainforest backdrop next to a single railway track. The noises coming from the trees sounded like a special kind of music to me. A constant varying chorus of insects and birds, the occasional interjection by some kind of ape all accompanied by the sound of the wind through the trees.

Sri Lanka : Kandy

Sri Lanka : Kandy (Photo credit: artist in doing nothing)

Stowing our things quickly, we were eager to explore so we set out around the complex. The accommodation surrounded a large grassy area with a wooden shaded bar in the centre. Playful chipmunks crawled around the bar area and danced among the tables. The staff were friendly and it didn’t take too long for the chipmunks to come over and introduce themselves either. They would jump onto your table and look at you as if to ask for a chip. If you gave them one, they held them vertically in both hands whilst periodically nibbling.

At Dusk each night, a couple of guys went around the complex carrying a lantern ringing a small bell every so often. We asked a member of staff why they did it. He shrugged and told us it was a ritual. I asked why they seemed to be in such a tearing hurry, eager to know the back story behind this “ritual”. The guy looked furtively in each direction to make sure no-one was listening before bending down to tell us conspiratorially that the ritual had been invented by a visitor from the travel agency and the reason they dashed around was because they thought it was ridiculous.

The hotel had an onsite elephant which made several appearances resplendent in a gold filigreed howdah and bejewelled cape. Lizards clung to the hot hotel walls and occasionally you could see a long line of huge ants making their way nonchalantly across the path. As we walked across the lawn one day, I saw a snake just by Julie’s feet. Knowing that it was best not to make any sudden noises, I delayed telling her until later, which was just as well because when I did, she made a lot of noise.

Tea plantation in Sri Lanka

Tea plantation in Sri Lanka (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Venturing outside meant crossing the railway track. Hoards of cyclists went past in each direction. Each of them smiled and waved. Many of them said hello. I was amazed at how friendly everyone was. A steam train rattled slowly past. If you think your morning commuter train is crowded – this train had people on the roof, people hanging onto the sides and people precariously hanging out of the windows.

Someone had told us about a shop called Liberties in the nearby town so we hired a tuk tuk one day. I had imagined a glass fronted shop, but this was more like a narrow horse box with a stable door on the front. Inside the walls were covered in shelves piled high with clothes of all descriptions. An army of young boys crawled acrobatically up the shelves retrieving anything requested.

Our Sri Lankan odyssey was over all too soon and it had been the perfect holiday. The lead up to getting married can be quite stressful and we arrived back after two weeks invigorated and excited by everything we had seen. We must return one day, because there is plenty of Sri Lanka that remains undiscovered to us. If it hadn’t been for the apologetic letter from the travel agent, we probably never would have gone there – serendipity indeed!

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Jun 10 2012

Here we go, here we go, here we go

World cup England

World cup England (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

No-one really knows agony like an England football supporter. The last time the country won a major international football tournament was 46 years ago, before I was even born. On the eve of their first group match for Euro 2012, for the fans, it’s time to take a big deep breath and brace ourselves for what’s to come.

I’ve seen enough tournaments now to know how the story goes. In the build up to a major tournament, there will usually be some kind of managerial crisis. Invariably a foreign man who gets paid more in a year than most people earn in a lifetime suddenly decides that it’s all been too much and they would rather go and do something easier. Then a pause whilst FIFA contemplates its navel for a while before the announcement of the next high-profile name to bring glory to England. I certainly don’t envy them the task. Nor do I envy them the inevitable attention of the tabloid media.

The qualification process usually goes fairly well. Many teams would be highly envious of England’s record in the games leading up to the Euro or the World cup. As we get closer to the main event, things start to unravel. There will be at least one dressing room scandal. One player or another will succumb to “dodgy ball control” and end up sleeping with another player’s wife / girlfriend / sister / mother and the whole team will be thrown into disarray.

Just before squad gets announced, there will be a flurry of injuries. At least one of them will be a broken metatarsal. All of them will be players seen as crucial to England’s chances in the tournament. The England team have always been a bit asymmetrical and the manager will come up with some new wacky and zany formation just so he can accommodate the plethora of talent in the middle.

The group stages will be agonising. Somehow the team will limp through but not without another injury and the star player earning a red card. Inevitably, they will finish in the wrong place in the group meaning that they face the strongest teams in succession in the knockout stages. This is when we all start to feel false hope. We dismiss the poor performance so far as nerves and the team getting used to a new formation. We start to think we are only a handful of games away from glory. Surely it must be our turn this time?

Then the real agony begins. We come out in red strips for the first game – always a good sign. Our hopes soar with an early goal putting us into the lead which is good because we kid ourselves that we always win if we score first. If the other team scores first, that’s OK too. Some of our greatest victories have suffered the odd hiccup – remember Dunkirk?

But before too long the inevitable happens. We crash out of the tournament and all the fans sink into the pits of despair. Only to do it all again next time.

Come on England!

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