A weekend of high drama on several sporting stages........
From the mundane of downtown Dunstall. Where Thundering Home ran his race in St Moritz conditions. 4th. Not bad. But no cigar. The meeting called off after his race. I wish it had been called off before his race.....
To the cauldrons of Murrayfield, Lansdowne Road and Stamford Bridge. England lifting the Calcutta Cup. Through guts and sheer tenacity, for they were second best in terms of skill. Not a game for the purists. Too littered with schoolboy mistakes, but there is no substitute in sport for willpower. Neither side looking capable of winning the 6 Nations.......
To Lansdowne Road yesterday. The Welsh sneaking home in an epic encounter. A last minute penalty pushing the Welsh noses ahead. This was more like it. Skill, flare, enterprise. A game infused with drama and celtic pride. End to end stuff. Another hour of this would not have gone amiss. Neither side deserving to lose. Another annoying sporting cliche, I know, but in this instance perfectly apt......
And then Stamford Bridge. Chelsea 3-0 up minutes into the second half. Game over. Except when you are playing Manchester United. Even a team that does not rank amongst the great United sides. AVB, as the Chelsea Manager is now referred to across the media (saves ink...), must have thought the points were his. And the weight on his shoulders had lightened a little. But then a penalty (correctly awarded), followed soon after by another (dubious). Rooney never looking like missing. He has on occasion this season. Not yesterday. The ferocity of his penalties laying down a marker. A statement in themselves...
Setting up a frantic finale. Chicarito providing the denouement. 3-3. "Football. Bloody Hell......"
A lovely piece in yesterday's Racing Post. Peter Walwyn. A legend. Especially in Lambourn, a community he has done so much for over the years, in company with his "long suffering" wife Bonk. On the eve of the launch of the ill-fated The Sportsman Newspaper, I spent a memorable couple of hours in the company of Peter. I was to be the paper's "Lambourn correspondent". Peter could not have been more helpful, and was full of encouragement and sage advice......
As were everybody else in Lambourn, especially the Trainers. Keen to see the monopoly of The Racing Post challenged. Which did not happen, ultimately, but at least the RP was forced to step up a gear. The Sportsman failed. But I still believe that the Racing Post is a better paper today because of the short lived presence of an opposition title.....
I say "everybody else" was helpful. Not quite. I rang one individual whose livelihood revolves around the Lambourn area, asking whether I could buy him a beer. And to have a chat. More out of politeness than anything else. In business, it is always prudent to build working relationships with the "opposition". My overtures were spurned. I was hardly a massive threat. At the time, I remember being a little surprised at this insular approach..........
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