That Fairytale in New York…
“In the drunk tank….”
Scenes. The saunter to decisive victory turned to trudge through cloying treacle. A fantastic US fightback amidst sporting pandemonium…
The crowds have received plenty of comments – and, for sure, some have overstepped the mark. But a small percentage of the whole. This is a “one off” occasion when golfing etiquette, both inside and outside of the ropes, becomes frayed and blurred. Traditional values and ethos torn to pieces amidst the heated maelstrom of high intensity competition…
There has been plenty of tutting and rolling of the eyes – but this is a unique event. And to my mind, the raucous nature of the spectators adds to rather than diminishes from the spectacle….
Rory. Rising to the bait – but more than rising to the occasion…
The cakewalk turned to muddled slog meaning that the planned Sunday early night went awry…
But Hey Ho. Sport, Bloody Hell. Ireland in two years time. That will be fun…
Next sporting stop is “Down Under”. The Ashes looming. England’s battalion of fast bowlers collectively wrapped in cotton wool for a few short weeks longer. Stay safe boys…
No runners for us over the weekend. And so I took in an FA Cup qualifying round on Saturday. A glamour tie in front of 700 odd spectators. Farnham Town 3 – Dorchester United 0. Sport, Bloody Hell…
The seaside today. Brighton. The mercurial Marsh Benham. Beaten a neck there a fortnight ago…
