Rugby - is it really that bad Ms.Pollock?

Rugby...is it really that bad Ms Pollock.

The open letter, forwarded by Allyson Pollock and countersigned by over 70 academics, calling on the Government to ban rugby in schools clearly sent reverberations around the rugby world this week.

But who is Allyson Pollock and why does she seem to have a bug bear with the game of rugby which has deep traditional roots in the UK. She is a professor in public health matters at a top London university. Her work and research has powerful lobby to sway government think tanks and policy on many matters relating to public health.

So why the bug bear with rugby? It is reported for over ten years this professor has been lobbying about rugby and it's contact nature and injuries to young persons. She is not just an interfering busy body...around 2004  her own son suffered a number of injuries from playing rugby at school including a broken leg and in another incident upper body injury to the head.

Rightly so, as a parent, Ms Pollock was duly alarmed, shocked and angry...basically any parent would be as that is a fact of life. Most parents would have to simply face up to the hard school of knocks...such things happen! But for Ms Pollock, in her career, education and academic work she had the tools to rattle the feathers of the school and the rugby association in realising their responsibilities in dealing with such incidents.

So since then she has penned many articles on injury to young persons in rugby and calls for the banning of the tackle and scrum or for the rugby hierarchy to change the rules and laws of the game among youth teams. She is campaigning for an outright ban of rugby in schools and be replaced with a non contact alternative...tag or touch rugby.

She is prepared to start an e-petition in this matter so that it forces debate in parliament and she clearly has the ambition, factual resentment and academic advantage to succeed in that quest. But will her quest have repercussion for the game in general...certainly there is very real threat to this very traditional deep rooted cultural sport in that if you root out the contact element at youth level then  future generations will never learn the disciplines required to absorb contact at senior level.

Contact in rugby, in my experience, is introduced at the age of nine at club level. It is phased in over a number of years and includes ways on how to fall to ground and protecting oneself in contact situations on the field.  In schools contact is not played until year seven, tag or touch is predominant in primary schools. At secondary level, the contact element is firstly only put before boys on the curriculum, rarely offered towards girls.

Clearly there is argument and differentiation on how rugby is delivered in schools as compared to club rugby. There is a sad lacking in duty of care and primary prevention and significant shifts in schools moving away from physical sport to alternative fitness such as dance - which is hugely resented by boys.

One cannot remove contact elements in rugby just so in schools alone. If you are to have rigid policy protecting children then club rugby would have to adapt as well. Rugby here could follow the rules and laws as in French and NZ and have calendar year groups, weight groups, uncontested scrums at youth level...so would such a move satisfy the quest of Ms.Pollock? I doubt it!

Remember this, it doesn't matter how much you change the rules or to what extent you ban or reduce the element  of contact there will always be that one child who wants to put the fear of God into the opposition;  there will always be that one child who thinks they are clever ducking and diving attempted tackles; and there will always be that one child who kicks against the tackle trying to stay on their feet, swinging their elbows in wild unison. This is where inherent danger lies when those playing ignore the technique and discipline demanded by the sport.

The RFU is taking rugby programmes into schools in a serious way and has a long way to go to achieve its aims. Also the alarm bells ringing out around rugby injuries ought be put into comparisons not only against other contact sports but non-contact sport such as gymnastics and cycling. And then consider this how many children are hurt just at break time alone...probably a comparable number. Then what about outside school such as skate parks? Are councils dismantling these parks? Are schools stopping break time activity?

I bid you farewell and let you all make your informed choice and debate on this matter. Stay safe.

God bless

Amen.

An Antique Tale...

 

My vintage toy car.



Waking up on a Sunday and it is peeing down with rain does not do well for queuing up at Walmer Castle for a chance to be on the BBC programme Antiques Roadshow. So I had a power nap on the sofa and dismissed the idea of going to the show.

And soon I was in a deep sleep, dreaming, dreaming, dreami.....ng! Oh Fiona Bruce, Brucie babe!!

' Car was ready and I collected my Nan, bless her well, all 4 foot-five of her. Splendid for her age, but alas a bit slow but some great stories to tell. Rang her doorbell and she greeted me with her now traditional, "Who the fook are you? No salesmen, no JoJo's; go away".

"Its me nan. We are going to the Antiques Roadshow!"

" I ain't that old. 99 I am and still going. Not out so to say! Come on lad stop dithering!"

My nan came out with her broom, not a witches broom but a newish looking one from Homebase. She was convinced it was the same rotten one that her husband use to have. He were a keen gardener and always said to me to look after your broom. Alas he never looked after his rake, left it lying on the ground and a misplaced foot and then WHACK!! Hit directly on the forehead whilst picking a cabbage for dinner.

Always asked my nan what did you do at the time. Her reply was, "Only thing I could do; opened a tin of peas..." My nan so funny!!

So we parked up near the castle and joined in the queue for the show. This was going to be some wait; my nan, her Zimmer and broom, my vintage toy car and an old tortoise paperweight. Soon we got somewhere to sit and rest, a waiting area of sorts and a group of posh looking researchers rummaging and inspecting peoples belongings. Trying to find the most notable antiques.

Would I get to be on TV with Fiona...oh Fiona!!

Whilst we waited for the researchers to approach us my nan was staring at an old boy in an electric wheelchair. In his basket was some miniature grandfather clock. It looked extremely old and was very dusty and grimy on the face. In turn he was staring at nan. In fact they stared at each other for a good ten minutes and then together they spoke in unison, " Hello? Do I know you??".

I thought to myself you ought too;  your blinking neighbours!! You always admired his clock!

 

...they have no value...

 

 

Soon we were greeted by the researchers. They asked if we had any antiques for filming. Yes I replied as nan shoved her broom into the man's face.

 

" It's Victorian! she said. Gracefully I hid the Homebase label with my hand.

 

"Oh really?" said the man.

 

I had to come out with some story so I told him, " Belonged to my granddad and his father before. They kept it well maintained, and it has had 17 new brush heads and 20 new handles in its one hundred and twenty year life."

 

"Is that so?" replied the man. " More like Fools and Horses do you not think?

 

" Do you have any thing of interest?"

 

" My vintage toy car!" He said that with no box they have no value.

 

" My old tortoise paperweight?" He said far eastern tourist ware, they have no value.

 

 

...wasting time...

 

 

The man was clearly annoyed with us and suggested we were wasting time with our silly items. My nan was now having a nap. As the man muttered obscenities under his breath he turned to the old man in the electric wheelchair. The old man then fainted on the sounding of words of delight from the researcher; "...fantastic find...£10000 at least...get him on with Fiona..." First aiders were called an in the ensuing commotion a scruffy, dark haired man of eastern European appearance snatched the clock from the man's basket only to be rugby tackled by two others in the crowd and hit with an old antique police truncheon. "Belonged to my late husband...I knew it would come in handy" I heard a lady say.

 

The researcher, now rather bemused with the excitement, turned around and his eyes fell on my nan, who was very fast asleep. The chap had clearly forgotten that he thought we were wasting his time and was clearly out of sorts from so much suddenly going on around; ambulance, police and news cameras. "Now" he said "who does this ancient doll belong too?"

 

I promptly snapped back, time wasters eh, "That doll sir; is my fooking NAN!!"

 

Oh yes I got to be on telly, the local news...what a farce! Fiona, Fiona....Fioooona, yawn!'

 

 

God bless. Amen.



A gardening poem

Tis the growing season again

Tis the growing season yet again,

First were the snowdrops, 

Then colourful crocus,

Majestically tall daffodils,

And shrubs into bud.

In shops are violets and pansy,

To plant in those beds,

Or to make hanging baskets,

For your homesteads.

The first cuts to the grass,

Might make it look yellow,

But then come the rains,

To make the grass green.

A rake and a feed,

A scattering of seed,

Will all do good,

Tis the growing season again.

Follow a plan,

To make your gardens look lush,

Don't leave it too late,

Or garden might look tired,

When it could be looking so plush.

So when buying the chocolate,

And hotcross buns,

Plan for your garden,

It's colour and look,

An outdoor space for you to have fun.

Good effort now,

Acquires some work,

And there are bargains to be had,

As shops tempt you with money saving perks.

So you see,

There is a lot going on,

Everything growing,

With the sun and the rain,

Tis the growing season yet with us again.

A day of crime, cake and tea...

Well, I am going to a very first today...a crime writers' convention! Yes, I am going to a meeting where there will be nothing short of murder, mystery and suspense.

Why I am going is a mystery in itself but I have reason because I wrote a 100 word crime novel and entered my writing into the Flash Fiction Competition. So that is the suspense part...will I win??? without knowledge of any other short stories entered then I have no idea what the competition is like in terms of quality of writing, brilliance of comprehension, grammatical excellence.

My story is simple, well it had to be in 100 words. The scene is set and a few words bring you from the past to the present. And there is a twist...at least I think it is a twist. Good enough, well have to wait and see at the convention.

Now going to a crime convention for writers, if I win, I am sure going to upset a few, because there are many, no doubt, who have been writing of dreaded deeds, and have never made a huge success of it, this writing lark. A bit like my blogging, because sure no one bloody reads this waffle...I mean there are hundreds of blogs, about different subjects all over this internet thingy, we can't possibly read them all, more so the ones adorned with pop-up adverts.

My, going off on a tangent there! So, back to this convention...now one will have to ponder on what to wear? Agatha Christie style or hoodie and jeans? Polished shoes or trainers? A few coins in my lean wallet or a wad of Monopoly notes? Panama hat or beanie? Cigarettes or cigar? Oh dear, I think I am going to stick out like a sore thumb...not good if your trying to get away with murder!

Not that I am going to murder anyone, but I will certainly feel a bit odd because I am only going to see if I win...and if I don't then, Then, THen, THEn, THEN...BAM!!!!

" No officer, I had my own cake and drunk tea from my own flask...why were everyone poisoned?? How nasty...tut, tut, tut."

Oh yes, I am going to make sure I am on my guard, treat everyone with suspicious eyes, sit at the back and inspect my tea with vigour...fresh milk please! I will listen to all the guest authors with interest whilst trying not to fall asleep. I may also make conversation, with the less suspicious of course, so not to get bored.

But most of all I am going because its a little bit odd and something different and I need to expand on my skill of writing something great.

So bye for now, God Bless and amen.

PS: Now where are those darkened glasses of mine!!!!???

What a classic...!

Ford Corsair 2000E, Dinky no: 169

 

 

 

 

Allowable living expenses...who are they kidding?

Well, recently applied for health costs and the reply has not long come back...WHAT? I can afford WHAT?

Who are they kidding? I was gobsmacked...when you're down, you are down, you do not need another kick in the mouth...cant be in the teeth cos the dentist has taken most of them out at my expense. And when he lands you with another top band of treatment, no not lands, formally tells you off because you need a bloody crown...and the costs. "It will only cost £219.00!"

"Ah, can I pay in instalments, please?"

"Er, no!"

If you just so happen to have suffered from poor dental hygiene then dental treatment is a very high cost. Thank goodness my health cert says that we can afford the first £376 of such treatment. Get real NHS the top band is only £219 pounds...pounds...pounds!

So, scrutinizing the workings they say that as couple we only need £113 to live on per week, plus the cost of any mortgage and council tax which is a grand total guide of two hundred and forty so pounds...surely after lasts week shopping they left off a few zeros! Or perhaps put the decimal point in the wrong place!

Then they have a cheek to compare that against our income, which sadly works out that we have a surplus of just over hundred pounds a week spare..yep you guessed, they didn't come shopping with us at Lidl, or was it Aldi...As my wife says, "We have to live like Kings for the first week of the month and paupers for the rest!"...lol.

 

...allowable expenses...

 

 

This called for some research. Well, frankly on GOV.UK I have no idea how in typing into the search engine for allowable living expenses other than what the heck has taking a trip to the outer reaches of the third world got to do with allowable living expenses. Der???????????

 

Maybe, they do not want you to know what their ridiculous figures are whilst paying MP's another few grand on top of their salaries. Or to the fact that our top brass are trying to keep public pay rises to less than 1%...it certainly feels like a them and us world! But I knew that anyway.

 

Even, under Income Support rules, have suppressed allowances...as a family you no longer are given allowance for any children as this is deemed to be taken care of under tax credits...so the first rule of any guide is that as a couple you only need that £113 a week to live...live a life of what?

 

I delve further through internet pages looking for material, even the Irish acknowledge that they do not expect those on the lower income scale to live a sub-standard life...they should have the right to clothe, drink and be merry just like any other person.

 

And, upstairs I find our last thwarted claim for council tax...but that is of sad reading as well, as a family of four you ought be able to live on £240 a week. Ha, ha more austerity!

 

 

Actual needs...

 

So, on having researched depressingly for a serious answer to my whoa, I end up in a wealth of debt advice sites...now this is more like it, the true cost of what one would need to live on and still scrape the barrel of life...or go bankrupt!

 

Why is it that insolvency rules are vastly different from what the government says you actually need to live on...well that's easy to answer they obviously do not like fat cat bankers, along with public workers and those on social benefits and UKIP of course!

 

Well, relieved to discover that we actually would need £1700 plus a month to live, which works out something like £412 to live like the Irish. Compare that to £240 under income support rules then that's a short fall of £180 a week...so who are they kidding? Well, haven't a clue, perhaps this should read "...who are they killing?...". That would be more apt.

 

Now, going back to our claim for health costs, I take away all the costs quoted for children and as a couple we would still need £1500 at least each month, which is a weekly sum of £350 plus so on taking away our present income we are £10 short...and they claim we would be £106 in surplus.

 

Crickey, even creditors would recognise that a family of four would require to spend on food shopping alone £100 pound a week. Take this off the £240 and that £140 has to go towards all your other costs...well can tell you that wont go far given consideration to travel (petrol £20/week), school dinners (£2 per child per day), pocket money (my kids are robbing me), mobiles and internet (everyone in the house lives like an adult), clothes (shabby chic looking and shoes don't last), gas and electric (£30 a week)...pets, laundry, social activity.

 

 

...no more blood in the stone...

 

And it goes on and on...need I not say. Yes, the answer is to earn more if one can...read somewhere that there are more going into self-employment, which is what I am doing, and my good wife exceeds herself doing extra hours but one can only squeeze the stone so much.

 

But at sometime when one is branching out on a new path there will be tough times but one would steely expect some decency of aid when there is no more blood in the stone...but in measures of austerity the government is stating tough, big time, and it hurts.

 

Not that I am shocked, with a thread on Mumsnet, there are many scraping the barrel with whatever comes in an equal amount goes out. And it makes no surprising read that probably 50% of the nation are in the same situ as us...but in a modern day world it is sad, especially so when the government has been fighting pointless wars and the cost of petrol has remained a constant high.

 

It has nowt to do with austerity...more like lying about the true cost of living. Now to go and stick to budget plan; get a nice cuppa on; what no milk??? Oh shite, cant be bothered to walk to Tesco just to save 10p...the Coop is just ten doors away!

 

Farewell, God bless and amen.



 





Google it...

Last week, I set upon a quest to find my town's oldest building...so armed with a smart phone, a begrudging youngster; "What you taking photos of houses for?" and later at home with an iPad, not only did I complete my quest but fascinatingly have found a new past-time to amuse oneself on those rainy summer days.

But as always it is best to do some research on these things so finding out that the oldest building was just a short walk around the corner from my abode meant I would have to ruin my carbon footprint and go for a drive...yeah alright!

So here's a pic of our town's oldest building:

Well, this bit is not...my research tells me that the church was built in Norman times. So going through a few history sites and the church site I find out that the church, over the years had many alterations and additions...Mmm!

My thought was come on son let's go round the back, but even myself is dubious of walking among those old graveyards so did not wish to drag my boy into there...only been down the road five minutes and he was already bored...lol.

So that is where Google Maps comes in so handy...amazingly that Street View car, that so little have witnessed, is armed with the best camera in the world and has captured images that one cannot see or admire from the footpath...peeping over walls, peering down alleys, close up, far away...Google it!

And this is a such a pic...the back of the church:

Ah, now that looks more like it. Built in the 12th Century...my town's oldest building. But my oh my weren't those Normans busy; Dover Castle, The Tower of London and all those churches...so many churches.

Yes, Google allowed me to peep over the wall and what a delightful pic it is, or not depending on your thoughts and religious stance. And that was it, I had found another waste of time...one could go on a " street view" tour of anywhere in the world...well any mapped town or city that is and the residents have not asked for postings to be removed, which one whole street in our town  has obviously done...and good on them too! I wouldn't wish any nosey parker looking in my windows via Google.

The thing is with this street view thingy, it must be done on an iPad. Drop pin on a road map in any town or city of the world and then take a tour...it is just like being there but one has not left their sofa!
Move the screen view around with your fingers until you find a scene that you like and then take a pic with your smart phone. Make up an album and then convince your media peeps and friends that you have been on tour...the best holiday ever!

Make sure you cut, crop, resize, add effects so to personalize your photo's...this makes it more convincing. Don't' leave them like this shot of a building in Wellington NZ;

Leaving a shot of your iPad's casing cover, or leaving in the choice button in the bottom right-hand corner which allows you to go back to the maps...and do not post pics in your collection of those arrows, that would be a dead giveaway that you had not gone but had done so from home...lol.

There is only one thing you cannot do and that is to try and  hide the watermarking's of Google's accreditations...but these are so faint that one would really have to scrutinize your albums and pictures.

If you do so wish to pretend; "Hey look where I have been??!..." make sure you do not show the reflection of the street view mapping car and camera.

Basically, want to go somewhere, or even plan to actually go somewhere then Google is yer man!...
as they say!

Have fun and God bless. Amen.

Life Style - is there an SOP for making tea??

Tea with milk

Tea...we drink it by the cup load. We brew it, stew it, stir it, add sugar to it, top it up with milk, dip biscuits in it, spill it, let it go cold, re-heat in the microwave. In essence we Brits have  one hell of a love affair for tea. We even named a break at work after it!

It comes in many forms, easy for us to use, in round bags, square bags, pyramid bags, rectangular bags. For our choice there are various blends, flavours and herbal ones too. Then we have our selection of brands from the damn right cheap and tasteless to the blended best such as Earl Grey. Oh then we must not forget that some bags are attached with string and a tab so we do not scald our fingers and thumbs taking the bag out of the cup, and maybe they might have a pull cord so we can squeeze that last little drop from the bag.

Traditionally, there is loose tea...what the hell!!! er yes traditional blended tea! Yep, if you had this or even still do then you never drink the drop in the bottom...because there'll be tea leaves in the bottom of your cuppa and these are meant to be read to forecast your fortune for the day.

Tea is also served in many different shaped and sized cups...big, small and wide in almost bowl like cups, standard white catering cups, fine bone china cups and saucers, tall glass tumblers, mugs the size of pint glasses, normal sized mugs or oversized ones. Ones with chunky handles or ones with dainty handles. Many of these receptacles are decorated, such as to promote your feelings, your age, your habits...

...and judging by our cupboards the humble bone china cup is a minority in many homes.

Our high streets and shopping centres allow us also to purchase a cuppa at well-known cafes and restaurants, be they large chain operators or a local independent offering a varied experience from that "was lovely" to the "aren't coming here again".

We can purchase tea on our transport systems, like on the train to London, where great skill, expertise and a steady hand are required in order not to spill your tea as the train rumbles along. Or on board a ferry to France, when in a force six gale, you wont have much chance of getting to drink your tea on the crest of a wave.

And in all these experiences you invariably have a battle to open little packets of sugar and tiny cartons of milk and, with most, stir it with a long wooden stick...which by then your tea is going cold and stewed beyond your reasoning and taste...and so I ask is there a standard operating procedure (SOP) for making tea??

                                                             

Believe it or not we have all been on a secret mission to answer this question. We taste, we observe and we perceive to ascertain if our tea has been made accordingly to our mental version of our own SOP for making a cuppa of tea. In asking we will make comments to our family and friends cos there is no doubt that from my experience in that; I do not make it like my son, he does not make it like his sister, I do not make it like my wife and she does not make it like me and when we visit my sister-in-law then it's a case of pot luck and extreme probability if I'd get tea exacting to my taste.

And if round my loving Aunt's then the offering is black and no sugar....vegetarians!!

Yes, all our life no-one and no-place has made the exacting cup of tea. If ever in a café and you happen to see the washer-up wipe their mouth with the tea cloth then I advise you to make an immediate exit for the fear of catching something nasty. And what is the point of that wooden stirrer...it doesn't do what it's meant for anyway. At least all those tiny packets of sugar and milk are a handy supply if you are planning a camping holiday.

The basics are there, put tea bag in cup or pot and add boiled water but the rest of any SOP is a science only known to ourselves. At work many have tried to write down the procedure in health and safety classes and there is no singular procedure...there would always have been one or two of us whom had forget to write down the step of adding boiled water and we be questioned on the need of plugging in the kettle...(common sense?)...maybe not! Then in any debate we would all argue on the correct method in order to promote and protect our own method.

Well I trust I have enlightened you all I am off now to make another cup....God bless you all!