Going Even More Continental,Carlo Ancelotti And A Few More Words On Leyton Orient

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I know this sounds odd. But ever since the EU Referendum I've acted more continental than I ever did before. It is I'm sure a reaction against the Little England that the Brexiteers want all of us to become. Now it's affected what I have for breakfast.

Previously Breakfast would be toast (lightly done,cremation is for my death),cereal or in the winter months porridge with the risque edge of a dollop of jam.

But not now.

For I have discovered, no stumbled on more like, the joys of the Continental Breakfast.

C'est Magnifique

Now let's be clear about this. Any French person seeing this picture will be wetting themselves with laughter at the description of this as a continental breakfast but this is Bridgend not Bordeaux so you have to allow me leeway on this. The jam,orange and croissants are from Lidls. The coffee is Carte Noire.

(The mug incidentally is a very old West Ham one. The character being,wait for it, Harry Hammer or perhaps even 'arry 'ammer.....even the internet couldn't help me on that.)

Anyway the point is that it's tasty and filling and the drink washes it down. I'm hooked. Possibly in the depths of winter I might go back to Porridge (an ad in the seventies described it as "Central Heating For Kids") but don't really want to .

I've finished Quiet Leadership by Carlo Ancelotti (with others) one of these sort of books for business managers where someone explains "the art of leadership". I've never read these type of books before given that a) I'm not interested b) everyone seems to follow the style of a "leader" be they football managers, Chinese Warlords or even Star Trek captains. There are as many ways to lead as there are leaders. Leadership I'd argue is not something that can be taught, it's instinctive.

Even allowing for that you do wonder whether Ancelotti should've brought out a book like this. After all if you compare him with Sir Alex Ferguson he comes out worse when you consider that Ferguson broke the stranglehold of a top division with Aberdeen and took a club at a low ebb and made it a European powerhouse with Manchester United.

And if you compare him with Brian Clough well, drop the mic there.

The football bits in the book are interesting and if he ever writes a proper autobiography I will read it. The rest is just common sense mixed with business speak twaddle.

Work means I won't be able to go to the library until Monday at the earliest. So the non Penguin book picked from the great unread that I'm going to read is.

Alan Coren - A Year In Cricklewood

I've been reminded of Alan Coren in the past few weeks by programmes on the radio. So I am looking forward to this.

You may remember last Saturday I chatted about seeing Leyton Orient for the first time in decades getting defeated one nil by Yeovil Town. Well I've been listening to Orient Outlook podcast out of curiosity and although I'd an idea as to the discontent of the fans following their defeat directed to their Roman Emperor of an owner I had no knowledge until later of it's extent.

Quickly to digress. The Orient Outlook podcast is worth a listen. Presented by ordinary fans who show you can be passionate for your team without shouting it from the rooftops. Rooting for their side whilst treating other supporters with respect it is the best one team football podcast I know.

So we have a Roman Emperor owner who seemingly treats the fans like peasants,without a manager at time of writing (though a man who knows how to save clubs from relegation has suddenly become available) and a team apparently playing without heart (which could explain why they failed to know what to do with the ball when they approached the Yeovil goal in the game I saw). In their last match, (which let me stress I didn't see because I was at work and,well,in Wales) they lose by two nil and are reduced to nine men in a fifteen minute period.

And I am upset (though in a manly East End way you understand) because as I've explained before Leyton Orient is like an old friend who now I discover has fallen on hard times. For although Orient always lived in the shadow of bigger London teams it had an identity all of it's own and if things continue to decline this is the biggest thing that might be threatened.

They play Newport County on March 4 next year (a team which has had it's own off the field problems in the past) and I definitely intend to go and see that game.

Until the next time.

On West Ham From A Distance And England Football Team Stuff Still Flogged In Wales By Tesco

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well I must admit from far,far away I'm getting nervous and depressed about West Ham at the moment. From a position last season of sixth and into European competition we now lose in the second pre-qualifying round of the Europa League to a team where Google Maps needed to be consulted.

But what's worse is the performance in the Premier League so far. In the first game of the season they lost to Chelsea. You shrug your shoulders and think "well OK Chelsea could not have as worse a season as the last one". So you live with that.

They beat Bournemouth, great. But then they lose 3-1 to Manchester City. And again the ten year old boy in me makes excuses. "They're managed by Pep Guardiola....they're playing great football  against other teams...West Ham have enough injuries to fill any medical TV drama episode...".

However.

In the last three games they have lost to Watford,West Bromwich Albion and Southampton. The fact that they lost is not the issue. If they had lost by a goal you would have grudgingly accepted it. They in fact let in four,four and three goals respectively. Consolation goals do not help. Of course rubbing salt into the wound is the fact that the teams I dislike the most Tottenham and of course the Arsenal are second and third in the league at the moment.

And what I don't understand,from far far away is not the decline but it's speed from where we were at the end of last season. Let me stress I will always support West Ham and will always try to get to as many games as possible. But it doesn't mean that I'm not worried.

Mind you, if there is one place you can hide from a lot of flak if you're a Hammer supporter is South Wales at the moment. West Ham are in the relegation zone at 18th but Swansea City are (at time of writing) just two positions and one point above them. Consequently any conversations with a Jack fan is just mutual moaning at our respective teams at the moment. As for Cardiff City they won on Saturday but still are just outside the relegation zone in The Championship. Their manager's name is Trollope, you would hope that their performance will start becoming more novel.

West Ham then. In Europe and now out of it. Unless things improve (fingers and everything else crossed) they are fast becoming a metaphor for Brexit. And one final thing on this, there is nothing more worse footballing wise than a smug Arsenal fan. If you trust me on anything trust me on that.

You might remember during Euro 2016 I remarked that Official England football figures were being sold in the local Bridgend Tesco. Well in this washout of a day and so many months later I was back in this Tesco branch and......

it's still there

I have mentioned before that Wales must be the only country this happens to. I think that I've mentioned before that you cannot imagine this happening in Scotland and yet the Welsh are supposed to bare this.Also that this was not the only example of this happening through the years and not just around Euro 2016.

Well of course this is much worse now than it was even then given of course that Wales came third in the competition and England embarrassingly crashed out to Iceland. So why are Tesco flogging official merchandise from another country? With behaviour like this do you wonder why people rather go to Aldi/Lidl (and for the record I went to Tesco for a few items I couldn't get at LIDL)?

Perhaps these companies should note that Wales exists and is not a region of England.

Until the next time.

Death Of A Garden Slide

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

It wasn't meant to be this way.

I needed to cut the grass today. I'd be working tomorrow and wouldn't have an opportunity to do this again until Monday. It's 8:30am. I'm out in the back garden. It's cloudy but dry so touch the grass. Wet...drippingly so.

Get the shears out to cut the edges by hand. Did have a trimmer but am not a fan of the way it will whip up stones etc that aims at your face, This is after all gardening not paintballing. So I do it the old fashioned way, avoiding the spiders as I do.

Last time I saw a spider like that it was on the TV surrounded by sinister music

So that job is finished. Touch the grass in the back garden again. Still wet, In the front however it's dry. That then is the next thing I need to do.

Oh and if you hankering for more spiders.

Obviously came to the garden after being dipped in radiation

So the front garden was done. Touched the grass at the back damp still. Needed something to do. Didn't want to take the garden stuff back in the garden when I suddenly noticed the slide.

Daughter has not used the slide for years. Partly cause she's older. Partly as I've said before because it doesn't have a wifi connection. Time to kill it.

On it's side...the slide

Putting it on it's side was the easy bit. From then on it struggled against hammer, screwdriver and hammer. The trampolene, though larger was easier to dismantle. It was as if it was alive.

Gradually though a bit off here,a bit there and eventually the job was done and the slide died.

The Remains Of The Slide

The mowing of the back garden was the best I've done in ages. 

When daughter saw it she shrugged and turned back to the lure of the Ipad. And that's point. She is fourteen and and older for the toy. She is older now and so am I. Time catches up on us all.

Until the next time.

In Which An Old Idea Regarding Penguins Is Brought Back To Life And I Go to The Library

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

A while back I started a blog about my collection of vintage Penguin and Pelican paperbacks. When I say vintage, it's not just those ones which were numbered 1,2,3 etc but also those with the standard coloured spines (eg orange,green or black). The blog had three separate tags to it. Firstly I would chat about reading, where I read etc. Secondly I'd chat about what I'd thought of the book and Thirdly I would give myself a budget of just £1 a week.

Eventually though I stopped the blog. Basically because I could feel myself being repetitive. Well now I'm bringing the idea back. Partly because it seemed a fun thing to do but also as this blog is more than just books it would be part of it and not it's whole so it wouldn't be boring to you the reader.

The rules are simple:

1) The books must be of the type I mentioned earlier.

2) The budget is just £1 a week which can be rollovered.

3) I cannot go to any event (like a boot sale) because they might sell books. It has to be because I've gone to a specific place for completely different reason.

(Like today)

And that's it.

Today I had to go to Porthcawl as I needed to change my library books. Let's deal with that visit first for I was running late. I'd got into the bath at nine am and didn't get out of it until sometime before eleven. So just one football book was chosen and quickly. It was this.

Carlo Ancelotti - Quiet Leadership

As far as I can tell this book is about his management style which is fair enough. His Champions League successes shows that he has earned writing a book like this.

After that I went to the Porthcawl Animal Welfare Society (PAWS) to pick on the Penguins/Pelicans du jour. I was fortunate enough to buy four which were:

Robert Graves - I Claudius

This orange spined version is the original of the Claudius series of books. I'd read Claudius The God and liked it so have high hopes 

Roger McGough - Blazing Fruit

This is a selection of his poetry. As I've explained in a previous post won't deny that I'm no regular reader or listener to poetry. Still will give it a go.

1877 - George Orwell - A Clergyman's Daughter

You know you wait a long while to buy Orwell books and then three come within four days. Odd cover for a book written in the nineteen thirties. The only vintage Penguin amongst the four.

Sir Walter Scott - Ivanhoe

You know I remember picking an abridged schools printing of Ivanhoe when I was nine/ten and thinking. "This is rubbish" and soon putting it down again. Now that I'm (much) older though not necessarily wiser I'll give this black spined version another go when it's turn amongst the great unread arises.

All of this cost me just 90p. Meaning that unless I can unexpectedly buy a book for 10p From next Monday the budget rolls to £1.10.

We'll see how this revival of an old idea goes.

Until the next time.

In Which I Journey Back To Bridgend, Chat About Helene Hanff and Reminisce On Charing Cross Bookshops In The Eighties

Hello there, Hope you're feeling well today.

Well much as this weekend was both enjoyable,emotional,sentimental and nostalgic it was time to leave for Wales. I started at Epping station which I rather like as it has a quaint village feel to it.

Excuse the fingers

I deliberately left at nine thirty in the morning to avoid the rush hour. A strategy which for once in my life actually worked as the journey to Victoria was fine. During this trip I finished the Helene Hanff omnibus which I'll chat about later.

On arrival at Victoria I had a quick early lunch at Subway (Breakfast melt with orange juice) and then made the short walk to the coach station. There was time so went to the toilets. I won't go graphic with the descriptions or provide pictures, but let me say this, You have to pay to use the facilities,but it was I who should have had danger money.

Anyway once done you joined the queue for your coach. People pushed in. The coach was late. You get irritated. Eventually it came. Five minutes late.

And we're off....eventually

The journey was OK aside from the man in front of me who wanted to use his seat like a transatlantic night fleet and kept pushing it back making me push to back towards him. Of course had he insisted I'd have given in. Given that he was a young tall skinhead with a hoodie. He was the cliche potential hoodlum. I was the guy in glasses.

The further West along the M4 we went the weather seemed to worsen, wetten and darken. This was Swindon.

Gloomy times

And across the Severn Bridge.

The Way To South Wales

Eventually I arrived in Bridgend. Wales: Cold,damp.and grey. Also known as home.And i was happy.

As previously mentioned the five books on the Helene Hanff omnibus were read, I enjoyed them all. The only suggestion I would give you is not to read The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street or Q's Legacy before you read 84 Charing Cross Road as it will make no sense.

84 Charing Cross Road is of course the book Helene Hanff will always be remembered for. It's about the correspondence between Ms Hanff and various people linked to the bookseller Marks & Co, mainly Frank Doel. To me it comes under the category of a quiet little pleasure. It's a book which shows two decent people living their lives with the shared passion for books.I've always felt she was not just a writer but also a reader. And when I mean reader I mean that she could relate to us ordinary souls who just love reading. 84 Charing Cross Road is one of my favourite books of all time.

Though set in the fifties and sixties it reminded me of the Charing Cross bookshops I went to in the eighties. There was for example one, whose name I cannot recall, that sold left wing books which attracted me as it seemed exotic and different. I remember Books Etc. A chain which could also sell bargain books and Sportspages which was pioneering in the way it stocked a wide variety of sports books and fanzines which were popular in the eighties but seemed to die out in the age of the internet and podcasts in particular.

There was one I hated. Foyles. It struck me as large and impersonal. There was no love in the place. You'd buy a book and go to a small cell structure where inside was a lonely soul who probably would hate books for the rest of her (and it would always seemed to be a her) life.

I do wonder what Charing Cross would look like now if I returned. Would there be any bookshops there at all? Perhaps if when I next returned I should have a look one last time. The literary Upton Park of books.

Until the next time.

London/Epping Part 3:Dad

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

My father died twenty five years ago. This is the reason why I've come down from Wales for the weekend.Today went with my mother to pay respects at the cemetery he's buried in.

The day was grey,cold windy but thankfully dry. Suitable cemetery weather.

The journey from Epping passes through places that I've been to in the past but know vaguely such as Buckhurst Hill and Loughton but only when it reaches Barkingside that nostalgia kicks in. Many things have changed from when I knew it as a teenager but thankfully the library is not one of them. A circular literary library pleasure. Spent many happy times there as a teenager. Don't know obviously what it's like now but it was the best library I've ever been to.

We reach Barkingside cemetery. It's relatively small which I like. Not like those cities for the dead at the City of London and Cardiff sites.

I pay my respects to dad. Helping my mother with tidying up.

My father was an immigrant from Europe who came to Britain many years ago and built up a small business with his partner. He loved Britain.

Dad was a man who still envokes affection from those who know him. I remember going to a wedding last year where a relative unprompted praised him to the hilt in front of my daughter. I've told her that if I am half the dad he was to me then I'm a great father.

I know I'm not the man he was but that doesn't bother me as he was special. I do miss him.

Until the next time.



.

London/Epping Part Two: In Which I Make A Belated Goodbye To The Boleyn, Go To The Orient And Buy Some Books

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Unusually for me. I actually had a plan for a Saturday when not working. The first part was simple. It had been the first opportunity to go to Upton Park and visit the Boleyn Ground since it's closure and West Ham's move to the Olympic Stadium.Pathetic though it sounds, especially for a fifty two year old man I wanted to say goodbye personally.

It was a grey day but thankfully did not rain which was fine with me. The underground journey was surprisingly swift and soon I was out of the station and face to face with an old friend.

Memories are made of this

Of Brooking and Bonds,Dicks and Cottee to name but a few. This was a place that once had a big part of my life when I was much younger.

A small tear was shed....in a manly East End way of course.

A Wistful Moment

Closest I could get

Nearby there is a statue of the legendary 1966 West Ham World Cup heroes. Had to get a picture of that as well.

The Heroes

And opposite the statue there is...

The Newham Bookshop !!!

Which is organised in the same higgledy piggeldy way I like bookshops to be. So that you, the reader,can revel in discovery.

The Search For Reading Treasure Begins

Unfortunatly wasn't sure what I was going to spend in the next main stop I was going to visit so couldn't splash out. So just bought a few individual essays by George Orwell and Anne Patchett

Today's trio

Upton Park is very much a multi cultural area as it was when I was young. So I didn't think that much had changed. Queens market for example.

Not that much different from when I was here last

So it was coming up to twelve o'clock. Hungry. What shall I have? A Subway? A Greggs? Ethnic cuisine? Well as it happened when I saw this it became a no brainer.

The Legend That Is Percy Ingle

I remember their cream doughnuts as a child....as you do.

Can't say anything has changed since I last went into a Percy Ingle. But nostalgia won. Ordered a cheese roll and a Lucozade.....living on the edge.

It was eventually time to go. Given that I'm living in Wales it's unlikely I'll be visiting Upton Park ever again unless there's a major unexpected swerve in my life. So thankyou Boelyn and Upton Park for the memories. I will always appreciate them.

Thankyou

Sadly No More

Given that it was one of the few times I'm in the area West Ham uncharitably were playing away at West Bromwich Albion. What that meant was that to watch a football match I had to go to the Orient.....Leyton Orient.

What I've realised recently is that Leyton Orient was the precursor to my views on Cardiff City,Swansea City and Newport County in that to me they were like being very friendly with a woman but not having an affair as you're faithful to your wife. It's the only English club I feel that way about. My views normally are mainly neutral (including Millwall) moving to dislike (Tottenham) and absolute hatred (Arsenal).

I regularly visited Brisbane Road when West Ham were playing away. The last time though was about 1996/1997 before I moved to Wales. The O's were playing Merthyr Tydfil in the third round of the FA Cup and I thought it would be a good idea to take the wife there given that she's Welsh. Who says I don't know how to treat a woman?

Anyway they were playing Yeovil Town FC and I made up my mind to go to BRISBANE ROAD (I really can't call it The Matchroom Stadium). I was in for a few shocks firstly ...

These are apartments around the ground

And then ...

All very modern

Went into the club shop (or Superstore as clubs like to call it now). Bought an Orient football shirt for my collection which I'll tell my wife is a Christmas present from her to me (I'll reveal it then), a pen and a match programme.

On paper, by which I mean the match programme, the Os were in the top half the division whilst Yeovil were in the bottom three position. So this should've been an easy victory for the home side.

Before I say anything else let me just say that I hereby claim to be the first person to read a Helene Hanff book during the breaks in a game at Leyton Orient. Here is the proof;

I rest my case

Obviously Leyton Orient were aware I'd last visited about twenty years back. What other reason could there be for the fact that the pre match music came from the Now That's What I Call Nineties back catalgue. Fatboy Slim anyone? Or perhaps you feel you want to "Jump Around"?

(A quick digression. The biggest cheer of the game came at half time when the announcer told the crowd that West Ham were losing three nil (eventually to lose 4-2). Obviously I'm bothered but will always keep the faith. That said. there will need to be a turnaround soon or else the situation will get worse and quickly.)

So to the match. In the first half Orient dominated but just could score. Yeovil occasionally moved forward but it had been mainly the home team. The second half seemed to go exactly the same way. Orient were by far the better team except in finishing. Either a pass went to fresh air or a shot to goal was so wayward the players must have thought that the ball was installed with Satnav so that it could be guided through the net.

BRISBANE ROAD!!!

And there was this. 

"MOVEMENT!"

A guy a few rows behind me kept shouting this throughout the match. And he had a point. What seemed to happen was that Orient would start to attack but whoever had the ball would stop as the player didn't seem to know what to do next. By the time he did the moment was gone.

"MOVEMENT!"

The guy shouted this so often I did wonder whether in a parallel universe he was a ballet teacher.

A draw seemed to be the inevitable result..... until in the seventy sixth minute Yeovil had a corner which they took short. The resulting cross reached the head of Tom Eaves and the away team had scored.

One nil then to Yeovil. With the first and only time in the entire game they showed a genuine piece of skill.

There was of course uproar with the home support. Some people even decided that there was about thirteen minutes left it was time to leave. Orient did try to gain a late equaliser and had a chance kicked off the line but it was to no avail. They had lost.

Boos rang out around the ground.

The player sitting down did not escape abuse

The fans anger then turned towards their owner Francesco Becchetti. "Becchetti out" came the cry. From an executive box he emerged and just waved the fans away as if they were peasants. The Roman Emperor approach it appears.

I'd enjoyed today. Aside of course from the results.

Until the next time.

London/Epping Part One: In Which I Travel To Epping Via Cardiff,Newport,London And Two Sore Feet

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

So the weekend with my mother begins. Brought on, I should explain now, by the fact that it's twenty five years since my father's death and I wanted to visit his grave to pay my respects.

Had a very early bath. Worked the afternoon/evening shift yesterday and had overslept. This meant that mentally and physically I was in a zombie mindset. Awake physically but my mind still in the land of nod.

Although I'd planned this visit as early as February the timing had proved to be unfortunate as a friend of my wife's was moving house today and would've been helping out otherwise. The wife was going to spend the day with her anyway. As it was Cardiff though was going to catch the London coach there.

My wife's friend is a perfect example of how life can throw you curveballs when you least expect. About two and a half years ago she was married and comfortable. Then she discovered her husband was having an affair. She is now divorced and moving outside of Cardiff. This is in no way putting myself on a patronising pedestal above her. For she has shown a resilience in the face of a personal crisis that I didn't show when made redundant.

I remember when she first told my wife when she first realised her now ex husband's infidelity. Assuming they were going to chat about things that wouldn't interest me I was in her living room reading (The Heart Of The Matter by Joseph Conrad as it happens. Didn't like it) whilst they were outside chatting. Goes to show that occasionally reading isn't important as the world immediately around you. It was also rather ironic as told my wife I'd suspected (though did not know) that he'd been having an affair months earlier.

Which is why just before 11am my wife took me to the Cardiff and not Bridgend coach stop in Sophia Gardens.

Bright in Cardiff

Coach Action

So off we go. A pre recorded message informs us that there are two "emergency exits" at "the front and the back". The one in the front being how I entered the coach and would leave it many hours later in Victoria. How then is that an "emergency exit"? 

We're also advised that there is a toilet at the back of the coach. What we're not advised was how the toilet door made an indiscreet noise horror film style to signal to everybody in the coach that it's being used.

Five minutes later we're in Cardiff castle for another pick-up point. Five minutes after that we're in the university section for another pickup point. I'd feel irritable but I was in the stage of being half asleep and half awake. There would I knew be a moment when I would nod off.

Not before stopping at Newport though

There was a woman on the coach who started to moan about the stiffness of the chairs and the length of time it took the good people from Newport. Was expecting her to moan about the crying baby as well but that didn't happen. Suspect she knew the limits.

No more stops now before London. Explains why soon after we left the stop I entered the land of nod. Half an hour later woke up.....in England.

Passed Membury services. There was still a long way to go. I tweeted that Memburies are made of this. Would've got my coat there and then for that remark if I wasn't on the coach.

The lady next to me is reading a book. I'm envious. If I tried it then the coach would resemble a scene from the exorcist with the carsick vomit that would spew from my mouth.She then starts eating. Which a) makes me hungry and b)reminds me that the first thing I'd need to do on arriving in London is to arrange for a payday loan to buy a sandwich.

Eventually we approach London. The traffic jams begin and the weather is so grey that the coach's lights are switched on.

All very neon

And to show how grey things were

London is very fast becoming Blade Runner Country

Eventually we get to Victoria coach station through the streets of Kensington and Chelsea. Some of which looked surprisingly shabby (though presumably expensively so). I would've taken a picture but my phone was running out of charge.

Got out. Wanted a sandwich but couldn't see anything. Bought a peanut Lion bar instead. Walked outside and eventually went into a shopping centre which sold all manor of things before revealing itself to be Victoria train station .

The underground journey was surprisingly easy. The two trains I needed to take came quickly, to the stops I needed and amazingly of all I had seats. From Victoria to Epping  started to read the Helene Hanff omnibus. Finished the first book, Underfoot In Show Business and now rereading 84 Charing Cross Road. Thankfully it's still as good as I remembered it to be the first time

(A quick digression. When I was a London Underground commuter if a train stopped a relevant station we were advised to "Mind the gap". Now the voice says "Mind the gap between the train and the station". What other gap could it be?)

My mother picked me up at Epping station. Wish I could say I did constructive things that evening but was nodding off most of the time. 

Besides my feet felt sore.

Until the next time.

How To Make Aneurin Bevan Boring And Other Books

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well the two library books I took out about three weeks ago have now been finished. The first of which was Nye:The Political Life of Aneurin Bevan by Nicklaus Thomas-Symonds.

As I understood this book from the introduction it's mentioned to be relatively neutral from the biographies that preceded it. Well in that it succeeded.so much so that it should be subtitled Fifty Shades Of Dull.

What this is essentially is a ponced up essay with a foreword by Lord Kinnock . A man whose socialist legacy is so great his Labour MP son takes his daughter to private school.

It is too short. Two hundred and sixty pages is just not even scratching the surface of a life such as Bevan's. There were many moments in this where the phrase "in one bound he was free" came into my head as it whizzes through his political career yet in a style where you could see more emotion in a tombstone.

For example the creation of the National Health Service is given a chapter of just eighteen pages. Eighteen? Even eighty would've probably been not enough.

As for the book being "the political life" of it's subject. The author is happy to go into tittle tattle. He mentions that Bevan was not the love of his wife's Jennie Lee's life (apparently that as a man who died earlier) something I don't remember when reading her book My Life With Nye in the eighties (read in London then when moving to Wales would've never entered my head). Furthermore he says they had an "open marriage". I won't question that statement,I don't know. What I will condemn him for is immediately afterwards mentioning that Bevan got on well with Barbara Castle but saying that there was no record of an affair. Why mention it then? Is it because she was probably the most successful female British politician before Margaret Thatcher?This was just plain petty.

Speaking personally whether it is pro or anti my political beliefs I want political books to have a political belief powering them or else it's just ends up like this. The most pointless political book I've ever read.

The only good thing I will say about this books is that it inspires me to read Michael Foot's biography which I already suspect will be miles better

The other book, which of course could not be more different was My Life In Football by Trevor Brooking. I loved this book. But I think you could realise from my idolatry when borrowed that it would have taken a great deal for me to have disliked it. I am biased I admit it. The only slight minus point was that it was the second best football book I've read this year. Alan Stubbs is still so far the best.

As I wont be able to go to the library until Tuesday it means I need new non Penguin to read. Tomorrow I'm off to Epping for the weekend for reasons I'll explain on Sunday or Monday. I'm not taking the Fatima Meer autobiography of Nelson Mandela because I'll probably finish it before this trip ends and then I would probably have to watch Midsomer Murders with my mother (that is digital hell let me tell you). So the next book(s) I'll be taking there are.

The Helene Hanff Omnibus

This is an omnibus of her books other than the one I bought in Bridgend a few weeks back. I've read 84 Charing Cross Road before and loved it. Will reread that again.

Until the next time.

In Reading Gambling Can Work

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

There are I think about four types of reader a writer on gambling games  (as opposed to a writer who tries to teach you how to play one) has to satisfy at exactly the same time.

One: The Professional player

Two: The Wannabe Professional Player. Whose dreams are hampered by real life and a lack of talent.

Three: People who dabble in such things as online poker but have no dreams of taking things further.

Four: People who have absolutely no idea of the rules of Poker etc and still wont after they've finished the book. People who think risk is an extra sweetener in their cup of tea but who are intrigued by this world need the writer to be like a nursery teacher leading a bewildered infant into a different world before guiding them out again into their bright safe inside the box existence (and nothing wrong with that. Boxes are secure).

I think you can guess which category I fall into. Being World Professional Poker Champion...no I'm only kidding on that one. .....as I think I've mentioned before my poker face is one of extreme panic wondering what the hell to do next.

But the point is that being ignorant in card games does not matter. As long as the writer is a good translator into what is going on then we the ignoramases can join the ride.

I liked Victoria Coren's autobiography, For Richer,For Poorer, in which poker takes a major role but on finishing I'd no more idea of it's rules let alone a desire to participate. On watching The Cincinnati Kid as a teenage boy my ambitions had nothing to do with what happened on the table,more in being as cool as Steve Mcqueen and having a torrid love affair with Ann Margaret (both in which I failed miserably).

And having finished Breaking Vegas I can add Ben Mizrich to the list of writers where the reader without any knowledge is given a helping hand whilst I'm sure the other categories of reader mentioned earlier are just as happy too.

This book tells the story of how a group of mainly young people were able to win money from the blackjack tables in Vegas through various systems and the "response" of the casino world to their success.

It must be stressed that this is a gambletainment and claims to be nothing else, It will not give you deep insights into the human condition unless you're such an innocent to be surprised that people will seek to get money from casinos with full proof systems and the casinos will do everything in their power to stop you. But if you just sought to be entertained then I would recommend it highly.

Wikipedia suggests that some of the characters are composite and that some of the events are not facttually accurate. Looking at their list I don't believe this matters here. Films/TV does this all the time. The important point is that the central character is not composite and the main storyline/events are not questioned so I don't consider it an issue.

And now I'm going to make myself a cup of tea before going to bed...with added sweetener.

Until the next time.

I Am Man Hear Me Really Clean

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

There are two things, and just two things that I will claim to know about women. One is that they will never believe their husband/partner is unwell unless he's fainting on the floor and/or frothing from the mouth. Even then they'd strongly consider getting a second opinion.

Unfortunately for her (and more for me) I am venerable to a vasovagel attack. Which without going into medical detail means that if weak because of something else I'm liable to faint. It happens roughly two years or so. Essentially then she has to believe me.

Even so there have been other moments in our relationship when she has looked at me with my streaming eyes, runny nose, hacking cough or a voice that has gone so deep it could've dug coal and said...

"You're really ill aren't you"

The other thing I know is that there are few things that would stir a woman into action more than when she is of the opinion that the house is about to be inspected. Immediately a comfortable and tidy home becomes a boil on a suburban idyll and has not so much to be cleaned but cleansed.

It is Tuesday. On Wednesday my mother is coming down to spend a few days as it's my daughter's birthday on Thursday. Furthermore the estate agent has arranged a viewing on the house on Friday afternoon. The bad news for my wife was that she was working late that day. I wasn't working Tuesday but for the rest of the week was working mainly in the morning. So this was the last day the whole house could be cleaned, as opposed to tidied.

So I, by default, had to do it by myself.

Tuesday morning around nine. I bring the vacuum up. Is it me or with every technological advance to the cleaners through the years they have become as sturdy as crystal glass? This latest one we've got, which I'm sure has a word ending in "tronic" in its job description has to be treated as delicately as a newborn baby. It was bought a few months ago but the plastic cover for the wire has frayed and we put insulation tape over it.

Bedrooms first then. Quick tidied up /dusting/vacuum job. Daughter had surprised me by bringing her laundry down. Almost causing me to have my first fainting attack that wasn't vasovagel related.

Cleaned the bathroom. Went out of the landing and noticed the suitcase standing to attention in the end. This was the suitcase taken from the attic that daughter used when she went to London. Wife was hoping to keep it downstairs somewhere. If it was just my mother coming I'd have left it there. As there was also a viewing I had to move back up the attic.

Carrying a large suitcase whilst climbing up a step ladder to an attic is not so much difficult but awkward. Like taking a drunk home without the smell. Eventually though it was done. Noticed the Christmas tree box looking at me mockingly. It knows it'll be next. That I tell you is a drama in itself.

Downstairs then. The Kitchen. A wipe, a vacuum and then to wash the floor. Of course if this was TV land and I was a pretty woman I'd have a man tell me to use this product to make the floor so bright in seconds that I'd have to wear sunglasses even inside a house in South Wales. As this is reality and I'm just a man plonked whatever product it was in a bowl with hot water and used a mop.

The living room. Used polish that said it dealt with everything. Fine by me. Vacuumed and wiped the Laminated flooring. Let me tell you something about the flooring. You genuinely think you've done the job and then the Sun decides to shine into your house and bathe you with its light only to also reveal stains that you hadn't noticed before.

Anyway it was eventually done. Won't claim perfection but I think the eventual product was passable. When the wife came in she put a fingermark across the TV stand looking for dust but said nothing.

A quiet little success.

Until the next time.

In Which I Watch Penybont FC - Goytre Utd FC

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Saturday. The weather is awful. At it's best it was a fine persistent rain with a light to heavy wind. At it's worse it was a heavy persistent rain with a light to heavy wind. Only an idiot would want to go out and watch Welsh league football in this weather.

Well.....two thumbs pointed towards this guy.

My first thought was to go to watch Ton Pentre, the team I've decided to own (and when I say "own" I mean with a group of other people for a £10 annual subscription - though quick digression not sure when I'll be able to do this as work and a necessary trip to see my mother near Epping means that this is likely to be some time in October). However they were away at Afan Lido which is in the Port Talbot area. Though I had a rough idea how to get there discretion was the better part of valour given that it was not the sort of weather to drive somewhere when you weren't one hundred percent certain of the way.And (another quick digression) it didn't later on seem as wimpy a decision as it first appeared given that Newport County had postponed their game because of the weather.

So the decision was simple. I'd take the walk (in the rain) to watch Penybont FC play Goytre Utd FC. Wasn't bothered by the fact that wife/daughter were going to be by themselves alone. After all they were going to watch that evening and Saturday/Sunday nights until December a group of celebs dancing so it seemed to even itself out.

To emphasise the point about the weather this is the view from the stands a few weeks back when Penybont FC played a pre season friendly with Newport County AFC

And this from roughly the same spot was the view on Saturday.

Look No Mountains

Though very early in the season Penybont had problems. In the sixteen team division Wales League (to be precise the Nathaniel Car Sales Welsh League Division One) they were fifteenth with just one point. Their opponents Goytre were in eleventh position with three points. Trouble with being in this position early in the season is that if there are no victories then things begin to fester and a turnaround, though not impossible, is more difficult to achieve.

Furthermore I was at half time told by a father of one of the Penybont players that a key striker and centre back were injured which was another problem they had to face up to.

As the first half went on I had the theory that somebody from Goytre had been doing homework on their opponents if only because they seemed to floating cross after cross into the Penybont box and yet like a bunch of athiests the home team didn't appear to know what to do with them. The men in white just dominated the half. Much to the annoyance of a man well to the left of a (well filled) stand who couldn't contain himself once a rare Penybont incursion into the Goytre half.

"Finish!" he shouted. They unfortunately didn't. The young men behind him revealed him to be "Chippy's dad". His son also playing for Penybont He would shout something else in the second half. Chippy's dad wasn't feeling chipper that afternoon.

In the thirty second minute Goytre scored. A corner met by an untroubled header. One nil. They doubled it after forty five minutes. A free kick also from the right met by an untroubled header. Quite nearly a Goytre groundhog day moment.

Incidentally before I forget I claim to be the first person to read a Ben Mezrich book during the breaks of a Welsh football game. Nothing, especially in a day like that could remind you of Las Vegas more.

History is made

More aquatic action

A word of praise for the match officials. At least they didn't look as if they'd spent the previous day in junior school like those for the Ton Pentre - Penybont game. Look at the assistant referee in this photo. Bald and looking older than my fifty two years on this planet and yet there he was, running around as if he had no care in the world (hope he's not younger than fifty two!).

The second half was basically a dead game. Penybont FC clearly tightened up in the back but apart from one opportunity they didn't seem capable of scoring until very late in the game. That came when the Penybont number ten scored from a free kick. If I understood the conversation behind me correctly the goal scorer was Chippy. For the record I didn't notice, though wasn't deliberately listening, to any utterances at that moment from Chippy's dad.

It was however too late. Goytre had won and taking the overall performance into account had deserved their victory. Judging purely on this one game you can see at the very least mid table respectability.

For Penybont however this seems like worrying times. I've seen three matches (one being a pre season friendly) for this season now and they are not the secure team of the past. In all of these games they conceded the first goal (in the Ton Pentre/Goytre matches two) and so the struggle for victory becomes ever the greater.

They need a win....fast.

Until the next time.

How Drew Barrymore,Jimmy Fallon And The Boston Red Sox Stopped Us Being A Family At Bore

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

It's Friday afternoon. The weather has not been good. It's been raining, it's been damp and there has been no chance of going out as a family. Boredom awaits us.Wife suggests watching a movie. Female eyes turn towards me. for if there has been a cog in the wheel of us watching a films as a family it's been dad.

Daughter is after all of an age where I don't have to lie and claim interest in something like High School Musical. After all I'm a boy (albeit an old one).

But there have been other reasons as well. After having to watch the first one I've refused to watch Harry Potter movies on the grounds that they're for kids and adults really shouldn't try and interfere in their space.

So what tends to happen is that wife/daughter watches the movie whilst I have an afternoon nap. They don't call me Mr Sociable for nothing

But this time my wife just looks at me and says "You pick the DVD". She thinks, not unreasonably,that before we consider renting online or going on Netflix we should try and finish off what's already in the house. She is a lady of radical thought.

Which is why I found myself looking at DVDs on shelves. Unsure of what to choose until my eyes came to this.....

The Perfect Catch

Known as Fever Pitch in the US but The Perfect Catch everywhere else as it was a 2005 remake of the original UK movie called Fever Pitch. Hope that's clear. I'd read the Nick Hornby book (brilliant...even if it was about Arsenal) and seen the UK movie which the best thing I could say was that it was alright.

It was however a Rom Com starring Drew Barrymore and Jimmy Fallon about a romance which sport interferes with, it focuses on the baseball team I support the Red Sox and it has a 12 certificate. All boxes seem to have been ticked.

The movie was watched and judged as an entertainment it's brilliant. I loved it (and for the record it's better than the original). The wife loved it and daughter said it was one of the best movies she'd ever seen. And who chose it? Two thumbs pointing towards this guy.

"I'm the man" "Who's The Daddy" and other cliches rolled out of my lips as I went to make cups of tea. Indeed was on such a gloat high it was amazing that my head was able to enter the kitchen. On my return though daughter deflated me with two words.

"Go Yankees".

How did she know this? Pretty Little Liars apparently. Netflix has a lot to answer for.

I won't disown her.

But still

Until the next time.

A Trip To Ponty, Which Of Course Includes A Small But Quietly Wonderful Second Hand Bookshop, Penguins And A Museum

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Though often in this blog I've made it clear that I've always admired Pontypridd when compared to Bridgend Town I hadn't been there,other to watch a rugby game in over a year and quite fancied going on Thursday if only because...well I'll come back to that later.

Unusually this week there were no issues with the weather. So no matter when wife/daughter woke up we could spend a part of the day there. Thus the Kia Picanto was fired up and the three of us arrived there just before twelve.

High Noon At Ponty

After lunch we started to wander around the town centre. In terms of comparison with Bridgend Town nothing has changed. It's still better. There is no sense of decay here. There did not appear to be many shop closures since I last visited with a noticeable exception. The Marks and Spencer was closed roughly a year ago. As far as I can work out an outlet store aside there is only one Marks and Spencer store now between Cardiff and Swansea and that's in Neath. I'll confirm that if I ever go there.

Generally though to a visitor's eye this is a town centre at ease with itself.

Are you watching Bridgend Council?

One of the highlights for me was in Pontypridd Market.

Pontypridd Market

And specifically to the bookstall selling pre owned books.

Inter Books

The ladies went off to do some shopping by themselves. I had an half an hour.

This is a small but quietly wonderful place. Even more so given the decline of bookshops, There is the sense that you as a reader have the chance of the thrill of discovery which the internet for all it's wonders can't match. If you're a reader and you're in Pontypridd give it a visit. For remember, it's sort is dying.

This is how I like a bookshop to be

I could have bought between eighteen and eighty books that afternoon. But I controlled my Penguin book addiction and just bought eight.Starting with...

1440 - John Wyndham - The Midwich Cuckoos

I am a fan of John Wyndham books. I reckon because he was able to write science fiction in the style of an ordinary novel. Thus making it relatable to his readers. 

442 - Graham Greene - Brighton Rock

It's rather surprising that this is the first Graham Greene book I've got for the collection since I've started it. I am a fan. The Heart Of The Matter is one of my most favourite books of all time.

765 - The Innocence Of Father Brown

Confession time. I've never read a G K Chesterton book. Solely because of having so many books and so little time (aka life).This also applies to this next novel.

2535 - Colette - My Mother's House

1425 - Honor Tracey -The Straight And Narrow Path

I've never heard of this writer before. So to be honest I really can't say anything yet.

There was a series of books called Penguin Specials which were about the issues of the day. I bought two of them. Firstly.

S222 - John Mander - Great Britain Or Little England

This is a book about Britain's place in the world post Empire. I bought it because it might be timely post Brexit.

S182 - Edward Crankshaw - Khrushchev's Russia

I bought this because it appeared interesting.

And finally.

Francoise Sagan - La Chamade

I think I've mentioned before how surprisingly emotionally affected I was by Bonjour Tristesse. So any chance I get to buy another book by Ms Sagan will always be taken.

Before leaving for home we visited Pontypridd Museum.

Pontypridd Museum....with added finger

This is a small place. On the ground floor there are exhibitions which this time was an art one. I won't lie this is not to my taste but each to their own. It is a converted chapel which explains this showpiece.

Impressive

Upstairs shows us more with regard to history of Ponty. It also has this which if you put an old style 10p (which they will give you in exchange for a current one) one of the trains will move around the place.

For the child in us all

As long as you don't go in expecting the British museum. I reckon you'll like what you'll see.

We left having enjoyed ourselves. It was a good afternoon,

Until the next time.