Early Modern Notes

GRAND SLAM!!!

We did it! We did it!

(I’m going to get plastered now.)

England won. But possibly the best bit was just afterwards, when they were interviewing the new wunderkind Danny and in his excitement he said a very rude word. On the Beeb! On a Saturday afternoon! Tee hee!

Today I am 8 and a half.

Ireland 12-16 Wales. Oh my oh my.

At this moment, Scotland and England are playing in simultaneously pouring rain and brilliant sunshine. A mudbath beckons. Yuck. Pretty rainbow though…

Update: A Scotland win! Well well well. England were as abysmal as the weather and Scotland were real gutsy scrapping buggers.

But those two other words beginning with G and S? Must not think about them.

We didn’t screw up yet. Yay!

Next up, the might of Italy. So many opportunities for humiliation…

I haven’t posted much about Wales’ rugby team since March 2005. Seeing as they’ve been mostly crap and there hasn’t been much worth saying.

And for about 2/3 of today’s game against England, that didn’t seem to be about to change.

So, bloody hell.

(I’m sure we’ll be back to normal viewing within the next couple of weeks. Still.)

Third place playoffs boring? Not this one.

Tomorrow either England or South Africa will win the Rugby World Cup. But everyone knows that Argentina have been the team of the tournament.

After all, nearly all their players have to earn their living outside Argentina, and they are the only major nation that doesn’t participate in an annual international tournament.

And yet they both started and finished their tournament with crushing wins over the hosts (and winners of the Six Nations for the last two years - in theory, the best team in the northern hemisphere), and tonight they thoroughly deserved their bronze medals. (What a pity they had to play their worst match of the tournament in the semi-final…)

Talk about exceeding expectations. They’ve been terrific.

—

Saturday update, after the final: Well, that was pants. (If I wanted to watch a ball being kicked up and down a field, I’d be a footie fan.) South Africa just about deserved the win. Yawn.

Well, for one thing, I promise not to join in the raving just because England beat France by being the slightly less awful team on the night. This does not make them heroes, and although some of them are ugly enough to warrant the label of bulldogs, that comes with the territory. But what bugs me more is the idea that they are ‘underdogs’, just because they’ve spent most of the last four years being rubbish. Teams with the resources and support England have at their disposal are not underdogs. Argentina are underdogs. England are just under-achievers. (Better than being chokers, though, some might say.)

[Update after watching the South Africa/Argentina game: Goddam, the ITV commentary was hilarious tonight. One of them (Will Greenwood, apparently) just could not stop himself from breaking off in the middle of his commentary on the game being played to talk about the England game (’Good pass… and what about that move by Jason Robinson last night then? And JONNY JONNY JONNY!!!’) and gloating about the exits of the All Blacks and Aussies, while the other kept trying to lead him back to the matter in hand… except when he forgot and stopped for a quick crow of his own. Who needs unbiased commentary anyway? Priceless.]

Where was I? Oh yes, promises. Real posts in the not-too-distant future! I swear! Maybe even two of them! I’ve been sent a copy of Andrea McKenzie’s new book Tyburn’s Martyrs by the publishers. So I’ll write something about that fairly soon. Man, it’s nice when people send you free things.

I’ve been doing a bit of cleaning and tidying up over on EMR. So I promise to start getting more of those posts out of the black hole more commonly known as the ‘drafts folder’. (If you emailed me months ago to suggest a link and it still hasn’t appeared, that’s where it’s got to…) And I will try to post more events on Early Modern News. I’ve already taken the opportunity to post a CFP for a new series of seminars at the Globe Theatre in London, which may interest some of you.

How to write about the Cricket World Cup right now? The murder of Bob Woolmer casts a shadow over everything. It is too fucking awful for words. Which, naturally, doesn’t stop the press from indulging in wild speculation and hordes of writers and blog commenters from playing amateur detectives.

And yet it has been a far more exciting tournament than we might have expected; a mixture of ridiculous, astonishing, shocking, awe-inspiring.

A few months ago predictions focused on an unstoppable Aussie procession to pyjamas domination. Yawn. But then they got beaten (three times…) by a crap one-day team led by a chap who, it transpires, can’t even keep a pedalo the right way up. The Aussies have been hit by injuries. And for all the record-breaking, they might even be beatable.

Two south Asian teams are going through to the second round, and neither of them is called Pakistan or India.

The aforementioned crap team, however, made it through the first round, which is something of a marvel. Their fans will probably get over the shock just in time to watch them crash out of the ridiculous so-called Super Eights. (Mind you, the way things are going England - captained by Monty, as by then Vaughan will have fallen over one pothole too many, and Collingwood will have managed to shock even Ian Botham by being caught high on cocaine in a strip joint - will probably be in the final. And lose. To Ireland.)

There have been kids having fun and unlikely heroes. Oh, yes, and sixes.

It’s been an unbelievable fortnight.

But watch that boy go!

(Saturday update: Thank f*ck I have SEK to cheer me up today. Otherwise I might have to start on the gin.)

(Sunday OBO update: “OH GOD DAMN THESE RELENTLESS SIRENS OF HOPE”.)

… Can it? But it doesn’t half lift the spirits.

Oh yeah, now all we have to do is take 20 wickets. Pffft.

Tuesday update: oh, for fuck’s sake.

Wednesday evening update: Still. Really. Pissed. Off.

1. The Ashes has begun. I do not think there will be frenzied liveblogging this time round.

2. Wales v. the All Blacks on Saturday. It’s going to be bloody. (Update: Yeah, well. But less dispiriting than last year’s effort.)

The Six Nations goes to France.

So, not exactly the celebrations of last year here in Wales (*understatement alert*). All in all, it hasn’t really been a classic series; very uneven from all the teams. But what a closing afternoon. Three nailbiting matches in a row, all decided in the last few minutes of play. What more could fans ask for?

Well, at least the All-Blacks should be happy with the way this Six Nations is panning out, as a not exactly outstanding France walk all over a truly abysmal England in a match strewn with errors.

In cricket news, bloody hell!! (And some more of the jaw-dropping detail.)

Scotland do it again. Awesome game by Scotland. England, not so much (some terrible unforced errors); the best team won amidst some truly foul weather. Brilliant, gripping stuff.

(And Wales play Ireland tomorrow in Dublin. Oh dear.)

Watching games like these. I am a complete wreck AGAIN.

But considering I was on the verge of giving up this autumn season as a lost cause, I’m happy bloody ecstatic.

(Since Wales (at rugby) and England (at cricket) seem to be in some sort of weird up-and-down rollercoaster what-happened-to-my-fingernails synchronicity this year, this means that we’re going to win at Lahore next week, right? … Yeah, right.)

Almost forgot in the excitement: to New Zealand readers, congratulations. What a team.

Here today, most likely.

Deceptive because I shall be (a) busy starting to put Carnivalesque together (see post below), except when (b) this kicks off at 4 o’clock. I am not filled with optimism.

Says the Beeb.

I’m about to turn on the TV (10.20am) to see if the situation on the ground in any way resembles their graphics. (In my experience over here in Wales, it often doesn’t.)

Why has the Ashes series felt so much like the Six Nations earlier this year (except that now I’m supporting England, of course)? I went through exactly the same sort of agonies watching Wales in the winter. But then we did it in the end.

(Quite apart from the fact that supporting Wales at rugby union and England at cricket over the last 10-15 years have often been the same sort of experience. Painful, traumatic, too many false dawns, periods when I just couldn’t bear to watch any more… but I kept coming back. Perhaps I really am a masochist.)

Well, 6 hours and 90+ overs to go. Everything still to play for on the last day. What have you got for us, Warney?

….

Updates…

10.25am: Weather looks better, though no blue sky.

11.45: Sunny. 82-3. And a very very tight nearly run-out…

Good job my sofa is right up against the wall so I couldn’t get behind it anyway.

Lunchtime: 127-5. I feel sick.

And actually there is a foot or so of space one side of the back of the sofa if I move a box out.

2.10pm: 182-5. (188 ahead.) Man, Pieterson came up with the goods today (78, including 3 sixes). And Collingwood solid as a rock, if rocks can be ginger. As Ed says, this has turned into a ODI. There could be one hell of an Aussie run chase after tea.

Teatime! 221-7! And Pieterson got his first Test century. Joyous, glorious stuff. (After the early lucky breaks. The Aussies must be sick sick sick about those dropped catches.)

4.15pm. Pieterson: 6 X 6. That’s all.

Mind you, his ego will need to be sat on a bit after today.

4.44pm: … Make that 7 X 6, and the 150.

5pm: Bye bye to Pieterson… and to Richie Benaud, at almost the same minute.

What a day it’s been. Oh my. But we did it in the end…

356-6 at lunch. Freddie comes, sees and conquers. And what a little sweetie from Hoggard to go off to.

1.44pm: 367 all out. But what next? This is scary.