UCI World Road Race Championships 2011

Don't you just love it when a plan comes together?

It's not immediately apparent, but Mark Cavendish's World Championships victory was underpinned at the Tour of Poland in mid-August. There, in the final throes of the period for qualifying riders for the World Championships, Great Britain managed to bolster their tally of riders for the Worlds from 5 to 8 by virtue of Peter Kennaugh, Steve Cummings and Adam Blythe all scoring World Ranking points. Up to that point, Britain's status amongst the top 10 nations in the rankings was made by points contributions from Ben Swift, David Millar, Bradley Wiggins, Geraint Thomas and, of course, Cavendish himself.

In Copenhagen for the Road Race Worlds, the team of Cavendish, Wiggins, Millar, Thomas, Cummings along with Vuelta a Espana revelation Chris Froome, reliable domestique Jeremy Hunt and burgeoning Classics specialist Ian Stannard lined up with one plan, and one plan only; bring Mark Cavendish to the finish in a bunch sprint. The expected early breakaway formed in the first hour - it contained riders from Spain and France, but was never a major worry even though it experienced a maximum lead of around eight minutes.

Even during those early laps, it was Britain who were doing much of the pacesetting. There were sporadic contributions from Germany working for Andre Greipel (and even more sporadically from USA for Farrar), but the line of red and blue jerseys were constantly prominent. The first real worry for the British team came earlier than expected, when a dangerous move went clear with over 100km still to race; a move of seven riders containing in its midst Johan Vansummeren, the man who won Paris-Roubaix from a similar breakaway and the Italian Luca Paolini. Still Great Britain worked hard on the front, as commentators, the peloton and half of the Twittersphere raised a collective eyebrow at their tactics.

Theirs was a tactic of containment; not chase down every attack with immediate urgency, but ride a consistently high tempo that discourages attacking riding whilst limiting the deficit to the riders ahead. Chris Froome was a real workhorse, as was Steve Cummings, both riders in form having reached the podium in their tune up races. Froome in particular was seen towards the back with about an hour to go, then astonishingly recovered to do further turns at the front again and even got onto the back of a breakaway move late on, albeit very briefly. A mid-race crash derailed the chances of the defending champion Thor Hushovd, but Norway still had Edvald Boasson Hagen in the lead group, hiding in the wheels alongside all the other sprint favourites; Farrar, Greipel, Sagan, Freire.

As the race wore on, it was apparent that the front straight, and a small climb on the back of the circuit, were the only two places on the lap that could provide the launchpad for an attack. Strong groups went away every time, but the dangerous groups never got a significant gap - no more than a minute or so. Belgium were the chief aggressors - at one point having four riders clear in two different groups - but Italy and certainly Spain were strangely passive, almost handing the race to the British contingent, alongside the Australians who were beginning to mass their troops in the last couple of laps. It would have been easy enough to get a British rider in the break from their front position, and many questioned why they did not do so (as it would put the onus on other teams to chase) but they doggedly stuck to their task, putting their faith in their pace-setting ability.

Although groups were getting away and putting Britain on the defensive, an obvious lack of cohesion in any of the attackers was hampering their efforts.The front group started to attack each other as behind, Lars Bak gave the home fans something to cheer by jumping clear. Then the ever courageous Thomas Voeckler joined the fray inside two laps to go and a break of three formed. Still, however, the team pursuit-like formation of the British team hovered within sight. An Irish jersey - possibly Matt Brammier - was seen towards the front a lap and a half out, a likely alliance in service of the British. Norway provided a helping hand, with two riders setting tempo for Boasson Hagen. Cummings, Froome and Hunt were tailed off, exhausted by the effort of staying on the front for 200km - a supreme job of work done. Cavendish, content to sit in the middle of the bunch early on, was now never less than 10 or 20 places back from the front of the peloton, rarely leaving the wheel of Thomas.

As the bell sounded for the final lap to commence, the expected attacks from the likes of Phillipe Gilbert and Fabian Cancellara never came, as the bunch seemed to be resigned to a bunch sprint. Either that or the presence of a relatively fresh Wiggins smashed the final climb to the bell, setting a savage pace and riding David Millar off his wheel momentarily. Wiggins, who had looked comfortable throughout, single-handedly brought back the breakaway, which had swelled to four with the attack of Johnny Hoogerland. The time trial specialist (who had himself won a silver medal for that event earlier in the week) set the tempo for half a lap, swinging over only when absolutely spent, with the Australian team hovering ominously as the Brits were down to three.

Ian Stannard took over from Wiggins, with Thomas second wheel and Cavendish behind. Six Australians immediately overhauled them, with a fresh Italian team also lined out alongside them. The Spanish team were trying to bring Oscar Freire into the mix. The Germans took a turn on the front. All were looking to get the advantage from essentially being carried the entire race by the British team. Suddenly The British jerseys were no longer visible at the front.

Inside the last two kilometres, Cavendish was about thirty places back. The peloton was fanned out across the road, with no one team in complete control, although the Australians were still well organised in a line. The three remaining Brits were too, to some extent, but squeezed to the right hand side as Stannard sprinted through a gap and tried to bring his two teammates with him. He failed, but deposited Cavendish on the back of the Australian train, who were looking to set up Milan-Sanremo winner Matt Goss. As the race turned the final corner, Stannard was on the front with Thomas still on his wheel, but no Cavendish. His path was cut off but he seemed happy to follow the wheel of Goss. The fact that Goss - normally a teammate of his at HTC-Highroad - has been his leadout man on many occasions (most notably at the Vuelta a Espana) probably influenced this decision, as Thomas swung off looking for his sprinter, but Cavendish remained put.

500 metres to go. The race clock read over 5 and a half hours, but in reality, the culmination of a project going back years was reaching its climax. The best British road squad ever had done its job - delivering Cavendish in an almost ideal position, albeit slightly improvised. As the Australians - still with four riders - started its final leadout, the overhead shot showed Cavendish completely boxed. But the tough uphill finish favoured a rider going late, and when Goss opened his sprint, it also opened the gap for Cavendish to shoot out of the box. He jumped over Goss and got a bike length almost immediately but then the deceptive severity climb started to seep into his legs. Head down, grimacing and pushing for all he was worth, he ground his way to the line as Goss started to close once more.

But it wasn't enough. Cavendish raised his arms in celebration, with Goss in second. Andre Greipel of Germany, a long-time rival and foe of Cavendish, took third and was the first to congratulate the Manxman. Fabian Cancellara had his best ever road race, but failed by a tyre's width to land a medal. A victory for Cavendish, but in reality the whole of the British team should take a bow. Captained by Dave Millar, they bossed the peloton from start to finish, and Cavendish, given the responsibility, didn't dare to fail. 46 years after Tom Simpson wore the rainbow stripes, Mark Cavendish of Great Britain pulled on that famous jersey.

Some musings on the Chinese Grand Prix

Sunday's Chinese Grand Prix produced one of the most frantic, action-packed races (certainly in the dry) that F1 has seen for many a year. A combination of tyre strategies, KERS, DRS and some good old-fashioned wheel-to-wheel racing kept us guessing right to the very end. There were a couple of intriguing asides to this race that occured, which I will attempt to cover here.

Cycling-style 'echelons' in F1?

DRS appeared, at least in China, to produce a secondary effect alongside its raison d'etre to produce more overtaking. Around the middle of the first stint it was apparent that the field had broken up into distinct packs, that were not necessarily due to slower cars being out of position holding up a train of rivals behind. 

Here is what I believe is happening. After two laps the DRS system is activated. By this point, the natural field spread of the pack of cars means that each driver is spaced roughly around a second or so apart (the aero of the cars this year allowing drivers to run much more closely to each other - interestingly, in amongst KERS/DRS and tyres, this point seems to have been lost slightly). Crucially, the DRS activation point is set up for cars being within a second of the one in front.

So say driver A is at the front of a pack, with drivers, B, C and D all being within that one second window, but driver E is 1.1 seconds behind D. Assuming A has the quickest raw pace (a reasonable assumption), drivers B, C and D (who now have DRS activated) gain in lap time due to deploying DRS and concertina behind A (while the principal effect of DRS, to aid overtaking, is negated). Meanwhile, driver E cannot use DRS and so loses the propensity to gain that extra half second or so, and so falls back. It essentially allows the (slower-in-raw-pace-terms) cars B-D to run at car A's quicker race pace, while E misses the cut.

It's analogous to the race patterns in road cycling, particularly of the so-called echelons that form in crosswinds. Being in echelon formation (a line of riders across the road, sheltering from the effective wind direction) allows the riders to utilise the lower wind resistance to maintain their position. But fall from the pack momentarily and suddenly being exposed to the extra resistance and get dropped quickly and never regain that position therein unless the pace eases in front.

This was apparent in China, as after about 10 laps there were about four distinct 'groups' on the road, all running nose-to-tail within those groups, but the groups themselves spaced a good few seconds apart. We had:

But-Ham-Vet (covered by 2 sec)
...3 sec gap to...
Ros-Mas-Alo (< 1.8s)
...7s...
DiR-Sut-Kob-MSc (2.2s)
...3s...
Pet
...4s...
Alg-Bue-Hei-Per-Web-Bar (2.6s)
...and the backmarkers

Of course, the tyre strategy had a greater bearing on the final result, in reality, but is an interesting side point none-the-less.

Strategy begins on Saturday

Well, in truth it has done (in various guises) for a number of years - fuel levels, tyre choices and the like have often had to be set before qualifying. But here, qualifying strategy is becoming so integrated with the race strategy, especially with the three-part system affording drivers the opportunity to save fresh sets of tyres for the race. Mark Webber's stunning drive showed the importance of doing so (as, to some extent, did Lewis Hamilton's race). 

This gives rise to some interesting quandries. For instance, is there any real advantage to starting 10th over 11th? If a driver makes the top-10 shootout, might he elect not to even set a time in Q3 and save a set of tyres - particularly if he does not expect to get much higher than 7th or 8th? On tracks with high tyre wear it might be an advantage to use a set of primes for Q1, a set of options for Q2 and save four sets of fresh tyres for the race. In fact, in Canada, one might envisage doing Q1 and Q2 (and potentially, but unlikely, Q3) on the same set of tyres (qualifying...wherever) and have five sets of tyres fresh for the GP itself. After all, if tracks like Melbourne and China are producing three-stop optimum races, then Canada must surely see four stops (at least!). 

Also, is the fabled 'undercut' (where you pit a lap earlier than your rival on track - often at the end of the first stint - thus gaining a 2-3 second advantage with that out lap on fresh tyres) even worth it this year? Surely at some point you have to pay that lap back, perhaps by making your final stop a lap earlier, at which point the situation might turn on its head at the end of the race if your tyres fall off the performance cliff on the last lap when your rival's don't.

Scrapping tooth and nail for grid slots and burning up new rubber seems to be less worth it in 2011-spec F1 when overtaking is demonstrably possible. Furthermore, the differential in lap times available to fresh-tyre runners (Webber, for instance, was lapping at up to 3 seconds a lap faster than his teammate in the final stint) appears to be overcoming the advantage of being a few slots up the grid and the gaining few seconds of field-spread in the earlier stages of the race.

We shall, of course, see in due course.

Tour Of Flanders

The last hour or so of the 2011 Ronde Van Vlaanderen produced probably the most exciting racing to be found all year, indeed perhaps in many a year. I joined the race coverage at this point, with Sylvain Chavanel in the lead, having just dropped his fellow escape artists Edvald Boasson Hagen and Lars Boom.

Here, back home, cup of tea was made as I waited for the Fabian Cancellara show to begin. Then, in just that short time, boom! (No, not Boom). Tom Boonen attacked. Quite why he attacked, with his teammate in the lead, I don't know. Perhaps even Tornado Tom himself doesn't get that one, since all it achieved was to draw out Cancellara into the inevitable counter punch. Cleverly, he used the ailing Boasson Hagen and Boom (who were going backwards quickly) as a buffer, skipping round the pair on a narrow, crowd-lined section of road - thereby blocking the way for the following Boonen. Tom had no response. The Tornado, it seemed, had blown.

Cancellara, (the hurricane in all this meteorological metaphor) was on a charge. Still with 50km to ride to the finish line, he decided that this was the moment. Was this the error? Did Fabian simply believe his own hype, his own invincibility? Whatever, Fabian did what Fabian does. He hammered at the pedals, rapidly eating up the ground between him and the still-leading Chavanel. Our frontrunner relented, and the catch was complete as Fabian took over the pace. A flick of Swiss elbow yielded no response, as Sylvain did the only sensible thing and lock onto the wheel of Cancellara.

And so it was that the greatest pursuit match of them all began. Cancellara versus the world, versus the peloton, versus the climbs, the cobbles, the works. BMC, a squad boasting some of the finest classics men in the field, committed almost their entire workforce to the chase, and even they struggled to bring him back. The gap hovered at a minute. Still Chavanel clung on to that wheel for all he was worth, and he was worth a hell of a lot today.

The writing, it seemed, was on the wall. And, in a sense it was, for the Wall of Geraardsbergen and its cracked cobbles cracked Fabian, aided undoubtedly by the man of the moment, Phillipe Gilbert (and that BMC TTT effort). Unperturbed, Cancellara went again over the top of the climb, forcing a selection of five. Most of the names were present - enough, surely to carve the spoils between them?

Again, they were foiled. Enter (stage left) a Welsh Dragon, young Geraint Thomas, who pulled and then pulled some more for his man Flecha who had missed seemingly the crucial move. The chasers poised to bridge on the Bosberg, but then Gilbert went for glory. The group imploded on the berg, and Cancellara was beaten. Even then they wouldn't work with him, as Scheirlinckx followed his every sway and stagger with laser precision, as Chavanel once more flew free over the summit in chase. Gilbert was brought back. That man Thomas once again hauled himself back into the second group of chasers, then brought that group up to the leaders.

None of these riders, by the way, would win the race.

Today everyone said ‘I am Spartacus’. A flurry of attacks followed from the twelve-strong lead group, perhaps buoyed by the great man’s infallibility, before Cancellara summoned (from where I do not know) one final effort to reduce the final selection to three (as if to say, ‘No, boys, this is how you do it’). In the selection was Fabian himself, of course, plus the indefatigable Chavanel and a previously anonymous Nick Nuyens. Cancellara and Chavanel shook hands, proving that the kinship in survival and suffering overcomes competition and corporate clothing. That so, a race was still there to be won. Comrades no longer, Cancellara found himself (where else?) but hung out to dry on the front as the race entered its final turns. He had no choice but to go early - too early - as Boonen broke free of the chasers and threatened to unleash his formidable finish. As he opened up the sprint, all those efforts - the break, the catch, the counter, the chase - all that pain seeped into Fabian's sizeable quads and he began to falter. A man of that frame punches a big hole in the air, and sprinting behind Cancellara must be like sprinting in free space. Suddenly, free space was all Nick Nuyens could see in front of him. Then a finish line. Then a win, no, the win.

And the best bit? Next week we do it all again. Roubaix waits.

The Program Initiative (+The Longest Day+A Ninja Slob Drew Me), Southampton Joiners, 18/03/11

I first caught Southampton band The Program Initiative performing a half-hour set opening for Maybeshewill last month. I was suitably impressed to check out their headline show, the opening date of their tour to promote the release of debut album 'Mercury [Phase 1]'. For the meagre sum of five pounds, the line-up looked an intriguing one throughout.

First up were A Ninja Slob Drew Me, an unusual two piece fronted by a man playing an eight-string bass guitar and sidekicked by the increasingly familiar laptop...operator (you'd hasten to say 'player') controlling the beats/electronics. (At least I think so, for all we know he could be having a bit of a dance while playing Minesweeper). The combination worked well; the bass guitar was exploited to the full limits of its potential and when combined with a range of pedals produced an array of clever sounds, allowing the band to explore typical loud/quiet/heavy (pleasingly heavy at times) dynamics expected in instrumental music. However, there is only so much variation possible in such a limited set-up, and at over thirty minutes the set dragged a little towards the end.

The Longest Day were your typical post-hardcore rock outfit - a surplus of hair and black clothing abounded  while the four likely lads on show ploughed through  a set of choppy riffs, thunderous drumming and off-kilter rhythms. File generally under 'nothing new to see here', although that is to do something of a disservice to the fact that they were a strong, technically tight band with some good ideas. As a pleasing bonus, the singer really could sing and never once resorted to the distortion-heavy screamo that so often permeates this type of music (not that that is necessarily a bad thing). For the last song, he even invited the crowd to possibly feel free to move around a bit. Sorry guys, this is a postrock show, we don't do that kind of thing here. He would have had far more success asking us to stare longinly at our shoes and scratch our collective chins thoughtfully.

The Longest Day

And so, beyond 10pm, enter The Program Initiative. Now, some bands have toyed with the idea of a concept album. TPI are essentially a concept band, existing at the centre of a make-believe story centred around the fictional 'Kepler Corporation' and their attempts to investigate 'The Anomaly', a strange entity that engulfs our Sun. So far, so sci-fi. As a band, TPI play typically epic instrumental rock, glacial and powerful at its slowest times, punishing at others. They recall the usual influences in the genre, but also retain (appropriately) a space-rock feel to them, helped by the bright synth chords and driving rhythm section that occasionally brings to mind, say, Secret Machines, particularly on opener 'Beneath The Plume', which combined with the shuttle launch footage really sets the tone well and is an early highlight.

The Program Initiative broadcast to the Joiners

What sets them apart is the fact that this takes place in the midst of a 60-minute film based around the storyline of the Kepler Corporation and projected onto a canvas screen placed in front of the stage (such that we do not see the band behind). There is no band introduction, no between song banter, the foursome are there solely to provide the music to the production. At its core, then, the TPI project is the ultimate music video, where the live music is intertwined with the visuals - mesmerising, occasionally stunning as they are.- to create a single piece of art. Songs come to a conclusion; but there is no applause. Instead the audience is held captive by the advancement of the (admittedly quite thin) storyline, where mock interviews, press conferences, news reports and the like put flesh on the otherwise quite abstract flashes of film to which the band soundtrack. A small technical hitch midway through spoilt the illusion somewhat (featuring the unwanted appearance of a Mac drop-down menu) and some of the rear-most audience members annoyingly insisted on talking through the quiet parts. If this was a proper cinema they'd have surely been dragged out quite quickly. The band make a brief 'appearance' towards the end, where the stage is lit behind the screen for a final flourish (ironically, to play album opener 'Commencement') before one final surprise to truly bring the experience of the previous hour to life. 

  

Film ends, lights up on stage and we see the band for the first time.

The Program Initiative are nothing short of fascinating. The experience is occasionally slightly overwhelming; that is to say that it is sometimes easy to forget in the midst of all that is going on that one is at a (post) rock gig at heart. Plus, nothing screams 'nerd' quite like a combination of instrumental rock and science fiction. But choose to buy into it and prepare for a special, and pretty unique, experience.

10 songs in 2010.

Let's establish some ground rules. This is not a definitive 'best of' list, but a cross-section of ten songs that in some way defined my 2010. Or I just love them. I find it tough to really rank them, so I've only got a top three - the rest are in no real order (ostensibly at least - they are listed as I thought of them, so there's probably an implicit sorting out that way). There'll probably be another ten on the way if I can find enough.So, ten bands, ten great songs, starting with...

1 - 65daysofstatic - Tiger Girl
That Tiger Girl is quite possibly the zenith of 65's incredible career to date is saying something. But this is well deserving of that accolade. A tease of a song that gradually unfolds over its ten minutes, it draws you in from its simple, unassuming beginnings to stop you in your tracks and leave you scraping skies and speechless. It is part post rock, part electronic, all special. A must.



2 - Sky Larkin - Still Windmills
Leeds' finest band, Sky Larkin, have been knocking on the door of something special for a while, something perfectly encapsulated in the opening lyric to this song - 'I know there's potential...'. Their second album Kaleide is a consistent highlight - probably my album of 2010 - so much so that picking one song from it is a tricky task. Still Windmills is a prime example of what they do so well - catchy hooks, razor-sharp guitars, quirky lyrics and effervescent vocals from the never-less-than-wonderful Katie Harkin.



3 - Maybeshewill - To The Skies From The Hillside
Not just for the song, but the way it combines with the video to create a single, jaw-droppingly beautiful piece of art. The music is not much in the way of progression from their first two albums, but then their first two albums were a little bit great. It peaks and troughs like any good post rock song should, but it shifts moods as well as sounds to create an all-out assault on the senses, crackling with tension, panic, power and sheer bliss. Listen, watch, and be in awe.






Los Campesinos! - The Sea Is A Good Place To Think Of The Future
Is it cheating to include a song that was given away free sometime in 2009 on a 2010 list? Not really, since it was the standout track on this year's 'Romance Is Boring' album. Appropriately windswept, emotional as ever and with an extra rawness that was missing from their more determindly twee efforts, Los Campesinos! are growing up. 



Frightened Rabbit - Skip The Youth
For their third longplayer, Frightened Rabbit have stepped up again in terms of grandeur. From their lo-fi, scruffy indie beginnings to this, a true epic that crests the six-minute barrier thanks in part to a patient intro that recalls a sort of You! Me! Dancing! for the manic depressive. It somewhat echoes labelmates The Twilight Sad, whilst remaining wholly their own.



Errors - Supertribe
Slick, mathy electro pop from the Scottish foursome. This band ended my nine-month gig drought, and I'm glad I went. Top stuff.




   Delphic - Acolyte
As if 'Tiger Girl' wasn't enough for one year, we get treated to another sumptuous, melodic instrumental from 2010's forgotten band.


Rolo Tomassi - Tongue In Chic
From the excellent, Diplo-produced second album 'Cosmology'. One moment screaming mathcore, then becomes all spaced out and jazzy, with ACTUAL singing and everything. (And I mean, everything). Clever, intricate and bloody scary.




Stagecoach - Map To The Freezer
Remember the first time you heard Los Campesinos!? (How do you deal with a pile-up of punctuation like that, eh?) Well Stagecoach have that same sense of unbridled, giddy fun about them, but with an added crunch to them, much like, say Dananananaykroyd or recent touring partners Johnny Foreigner. You can thank genius producer James Kenosha for that, deploying the same crisp rawness he brought to the Pulled Apart By Horses album. And yes, that video is 'Speed'. I don't really get why, either.





Maps and Atlases - Solid Ground
A quirky, unlikely math/folk crossover, like a downtempo This Town Needs Guns fronted by Napoleon IIIrd. And is as every bit as good as that sounds.

Johnny Foreigner - 'You Thought You Saw A Shooting Star But Yr Eyes Were Blurred With Tears And That Lighthouse Can Be Pretty Deceiving With The Sky So Clear And Sea So Calm'

Birmingham's indie heroes (and heroine) Johnny Foreigner still feel like a fresh, new, young band, and it takes quite a bit of adjusting to realise that they are two albums and a host of EPs and singles into their career to date. Their well-founded reputation has been built on a staple diet of scuzzy, shouty indie-pop that has permeated the vast majority of their catalogue to date. This, however, is a formula that only stretches so far, and even by their second longplayer, 'Grace And The Bigger Picture', signs of death by repetition were seeping in.

'YTYSASSBYEWBWTATLCBPDWTSSCASSC' (for short)*, then, is the confident sound of a band seemingly tired of their comfort zone and looking for ways to branch out. As such, this EP release seems slightly disjointed, almost haphazard in the way it shifts from one track to the next. At 20 minutes and 6 songs, this is less of a cohesive record, more a brainstorming session. Fortunately for JoFo, just about everything they turn their hands to just, well, bloody works.

'The Wind And The Weathervanes' serves as an unusually restrained opener, hazy and laid back in an almost Pavement-like fashion, changing tack halfway to unleash a wave of expansive guitar lines more reminiscent of a post-rock outfit than the band we have come to know and love. That string sounds appear over the coda serve as a further reminder that this is a new-look, more grown up band we are witnessing before our eyes and our ears.

Well, almost. Those strings fade out into 'Who Needs Comment Boxes When You've Got Knives', a determinedly out and out punk effort, certainly heavier than anything that they have made previously. It is a blistering and effective run through heavy chords and simple fast-paced drumming, backed by the familiar vocal interplay between Alexei and Kelly. Two tracks in and still no new direction found and stuck to. Where to next? On the second part of 'Elegy For Post-Teenage Living Parts One And Two', they turn to making skittish electro-pop, with Alexei monologuing over a synth bassline and programmed beats vaguely recalling early hit 'Salt, Pepa and Spinderella'.

And still they are not finished yet. 'Robert Scargill Takes The Prize' sees the band at their most tender, most heartfelt (a title it will hold for precisely two songs' time), a fragile boy/girl duet over plucked acoustic guitars and gentle keys turn proceedings towards folktronica for a moment. Christ, this band really can do anything. A neat touch is the false ending to this song, giving a few extra seconds of outro where many would just have gone 'enough'. By the time 'Harriet, By Proxy' arrives, it is almost familiarly unfamiliar, probably the only track here that could slip relatively unnoticed into either of their first two albums and yet in the context of this record something different again.

'Harriet...' decent enough though it is, almost serves as a pause before delivering something special for the closing track entitled, simply, 'Yr Loved'. Another slow-burning gem, beautiful both musically and lyrically and glittering with hope, this song confirms the new status of Johnny Foreigner. Forget the genre, style or direction. This band is life-affirming, and this EP is something to be savoured.






*I wonder how many reviews in the blogosphere will repeat this gag, but no matter.

Track Cycling Is Dead...

...long live, well, Sir Chris Hoy I guess.
On the weekend of the European Championships, it seems appropriate to reflect on the sweeping changes made to the sport in recent times. Since the last Olympics in 2008, when the Great Britain track team (I'm NOT calling it 'Team GB' - what a hateful phrase that is) ripped up the Beijing velodrome, the UCI have managed to completely take apart the sport, turning it into not only just a sprinter's game, but a restricted one even at that. This from a governing body who, according to the programme for the Manchester Track Worlds in 2008, '[their] commitment towards the promotion and development of Track cycling is a strategic priority'. Well it's a funny way to go about it, believe you me.

The story goes roughly like this. In a bid to give parity between men's and women's events at the Olympics (the men previously had 7 events to the women's 3) the UCI took their allocation of 10 events and split them 5 for each gender. So far, so fair, you might think. But in doing so, they have created a disparity between sprint and endurance cycling. Out goes the points race and the Madison - both enthralling tactical distance events, and (most contentiously) the Individual Pursuit (see feature below about this wonderful event). Many at this point cried anti-Great Britain foul (we'll come to that in a bit), given this country's record in particularly the IP, having won both sexes' disciplines with Bradley Wiggins and Rebecca Romero (and a bronze and silver too). This is not true, since in comes the Team Sprint, Team Pursuit and Keirin for women (all titles won by Britian in the last few years) and an Omnium event (a multi-event discipline introduced as a sop to the endurance riders) a version of which was won by Ed Clancy this year.

However, the UCI, according to some on the British team, dragged their feet in outlining the qualification process for 2012, and then by being reluctant to name the exact date of these Euros, giving rise to a potential conflict with the Commonwealth Games. Similar hesitancy was thrown at the Omnium event, with the exact format unknown even as of the 2010 Worlds. This could be interpreted as yet another attempt to destabilize what was becoming an almost mechanical British rout of the medal rostrum. All that was apparent that the version Clancy won was more sprint-friendly, and that the Olympic Omnium will take a more endurance, multi-day form. This weekend's competition should give a clear(er) picture of that. Let's be clear on this, governing bodies DO take action to try and break up repetitively dominant performances, the FIA on Ferrari in the last few years for instance, the raft of essentially anti-China rule changes in table tennis, the random draw, 5-frame format at the recent World Open snooker event.

Even more baffling decisions have been taken to affect the Olympic programme since, however, which are a clearer sign of breaking up the British dominance (and, to the same extent, the Australian stranglehold that has existed since 2009). The qualification format revealed that only one entrant (i.,e. one rider or team) per nation would be allowed to compete in any event. This only affects the Match Sprint and Keirin in reality since the team and bunch endurance events were always restricted at the championships anyway. In these events, however, the field is going to be greatly reduced. Added to this is a restriction on the number of riders from each contintent, to ensure a worldwide field. This, according to the qualification procedure, means that there will be only 8 contenders in the match sprint and keirin. Suddenly this is looking like a nonsense competition, a far cry from the 24-strong fields one is used to seeing. Victoria Pendleton makes the obvious but beautifully incisive analogy to athletics - like telling Asafa Powell he can't go to the Olympics alongside Usain Bolt. Now imagine the men's 100m going off as a straight final as well and you get a picture of just what a mess the whole thing has become. Apparently this is to remove the possibility of collusion, according to UCI President Pat McQuaid; well this could only happen in the Keirin, so a fairly redundant argument there. And apparently this rule introduces the sport to more nations, well with dramatically reduced fields across the board this hardly stacks up, does it?

Imposing the continental quota will thin down further what is already becoming a quality-deficient field. Based on the best riders from each country on the concluding World Rankings for 2009-10, the Men's Sprint would look like this.

Kevin Sireau (FRA) World #1
Shane Perkins (AUS) #2
Matt Crampton (GBR) #3
Maximillian Levy (GER) #5
Damian Zielinski (POL) #14
Travis Smith (CAN) #15
Azizulhasni Awang (MAL) #17
Lei Zhang (CHN) #19



I don't know whether the system is based on athletes individually, or whether athletes score points for their country, who then pick an athlete to represent them. This would be even worse; the qualifying nations and their rankings, and their corresponding best ranked rider together with his individual world ranking are all outlined below.

France (#1) - Sireau (#1)
Great Britain (#2) - Crampton (#3)
Australia (#3) - Perkins (#2)
Germany (#4) - Levy (#5)
Czech Republic (#5) - Denis Spicka (#18)
China (#8) - Zhang (#19)
Japan (#9) - Kazunari Watanabe (#32)
Canada (#12) - Smith (#15)

The powers that be have even decreed that Oceania get only one representative per event - which seems OK, given the relative size to Asia who get two, but remember that Australia and New Zealand are two of the bigger track nations and are well represented across the board, and Asia have very few riders who can compete at world level. It is simply astonishing that a rider even outside the top 10, let alone the top 30, could even potentially qualify for an 8-strong event. Even if they took the top 8 in the world - that would be exciting to watch, or the top 8 countries regardless of location, but to impose all these restrictions, forget it. Just forget it.

All this of course makes a mockery of the idea that the Olympics are the pinnacle of the sport. I'm not sure why this idea should be prevalent, since if participation is restricted by IOC athlete quotas, then surely the World Championships in the respective sport, where more athletes are given the chance to compete and in a wider range of events, then surely this should be the biggest event in that sport. Given the relative state of the Worlds and Olympics in track cycling, the prestige attached to the rainbow stripes awarded to the winner, and the chance to beat all of the best in the world to attain that winning status, and the full range of events then the Worlds are the hardest and best competition to win by a long, long way. Unfortunately, the exposure and funding that come with Olympic success are burning the sport at both ends of the candle. Fewer riders get that Olympic chance, mean that riders are turning their back on the track, hurting the sport at Worlds level too. An unqualified mess indeed.


Feature: Hot Pursuit
The men's 4km Individual Pursuit is one of the most historic, evocative and pure track cycling events. It is essentially a time trial at that distance, but head-to-head with an opponent starting from the opposite side of the track, so it is either the first rider to catch the other or the fastest to 4000m that wins. It is a hotbed of British success over the years, with a host of World and Olympic Champions, and the World Record is held by Chris Boardman at (the fantastically palindromic) 4:11.114 - a record unlikely to be challenged as it was set using the now banned 'Superman' position, which was a freakishly fast, if unwieldy, riding style. However, in the last few years, a raft of international (largely Anglophone) young talent has arisen and looked set to take the event to new levels. Indeed, the London 2012 4km IP should have been one of the entire Games' potential highlights. Alas, it looks set not to be. For interest, here is a rundown of the top 8 contenders that would have been.

Taylor Phinney (USA) - Reigning World Champion, having retained his title this year. Rode a 4:15.1 on his way to winning the 2009 Worlds.
Jesse Sargent (NZL) - Teammate of Phinney at Trek-Livestrong U23 this year, rode a 4:15.9 in the qualification round of the Worlds this year.
Hayden Roulston (NZL) - Olympic Silver medallist in Beijing, now a member of HTC-Columbia. Only had a brief spell as a pursuiter, rode 4:18 at the Worlds and Olympics in 2008.
Bradley Wiggins (GBR) - Twice Olympic Champion for the event, riding low 4:15 to set Olympic Records in successive Games. Set a PB of 4:15.036 in the first round of the Beijing Games.
Geraint Thomas (GBR) - Has a 4:15.015 to his name, and looked nailed on for a historic 4:13 clocking at the Manchester World Cup in 2009, when he stopped after catching his opponent Cornu in the final.
Jack Bobridge (AUS) - Rode a super fast 4:14.4 Australian record (bettering the time of the legendary Bradley McGee), the second fastest in history (effectively a standard position world record). Took a win on the road at ProTour level in the Eneco Tour this year.
Rohan Dennis (AUS) - Beaten by Bobridge in that record ride at the Australian championships, clocking a 4:15.7.
Dominique Cornu (BEL) - Former World U23 Time Trial Champion, another youngster with great potential, although his 4:17 clocking would struggle to get him into the medal rides. Astonishing when you consider Wiggins has won world titles with slower.

Great moments in pursuit - unashamedly Brit-centric.

Return to blogosphere.

...well, I'll try.

my top 10 sports moments of 2009 - plus some youtube links.

This collection of sporting moments tries to supercede some of the obvious and go for what made compulsive viewing/listening/reading (it happened) in 2009 from my own perspective. Some, like Bolt's unstoppable wins in Berlin, were too big to ignore; others are unlikely to grace many 'Best of...' lists, unless you have some extremely specific parameters for them. All of these encompass the 'you remember where you were...' factor that great moments exude; all were twined with the uncertainty, the tension and that little bit of magic that makes sport so compelling. Generally speaking, the events are Brit/English/club-centric, as they capture those times when rooting for your home team makes the moment all the more important, others transcend the need to take national or local sides.

-Burnley win promotion to the Premier League (1)
For personal attachment, nothing can come close to the moment that Burnley secured their return to the top flight of English football by winning the Championship play-off final against Sheffield Utd. This I watched on the TV in a pub in Oxford, about a week before my final exams, so a much-needed relief was in order. Wade Elliot provided it with a stunning strike in the first half - worthy of winning any football match - followed by an hour of tension as the 1-0 scoreline was maintained. That made it extra-special in a way, having to go through that knowing the win was so close but so easily snatched away. Eventually we held out and the celebrations could start. But not for me as I had revising to do. I got a 2:1, thanks for asking :)


 
-Bradley Wiggins ascends Mont Ventoux to secure Tour de France fourth (2)
For the definitive 'moment', I constrained myself to pick one stage of Wiggo's epic 2009 Tour de France. It could have been the stage to Andorra-Arcalis, where he announced himself as a contender by finishing in the Armstrong/Schleck group, or the climb to Verbier where he actually attacked and beat Armstrong to the summit. Instead I went for the iconic penultimate stage to Mont Ventoux, where Wiggins was understandably hanging on with every ounce of determination and then some, to drag himself over the line with seconds to spare to hang on to his fourth place overall.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CWAjG5ndebo

While searching for videos for this I found one where he pushes a spectator out of his way - nice work, Brad!


-Jessica Ennis wins World Athletics heptathlon (3)
Again, I hasten to define a moment as being two days of competition. Perhaps if I had to pin it down it would be seeing Jess split 28 seconds at 200m for her 800m (and 60s at 400m), quicker than the heats of the actual women's 800m (see the vid). But that first day performance was immense; a dominant marker laid down in her strongest events, a PB in a weaker one (the shot put) set up a magic two days for the Sheffield star. Those who followed the sport knew it was coming for a while, those who didn't probably do now, thanks to her.


-Jenson Button wins for Brawn GP in Australia (4)
Again, this was a toss up between the drive that ended it all - the stunning champion's performance in Brazil - or the one which kicked off his world title season. In the end, I decided that the pole and victory in Australia was the stand out moment for me, just because of the relatively unexpected nature of the win- I say relatively because Brawn and his team were convinced all along they had a race-winning car, times in tests backed this up, and pole in Oz proved it. And of course the sheer romance of the occasion, which wore off a bit after 6 wins in 7 races. 


-Usain Bolt runs 19.19 200m WR in Berlin (5)
Stunning. That's all anyone can truly say about Usain Bolt's 200m world record. Of course, all anyone actually talks about is the 100m record. But when Bolt set his 100m record in Beijing he was slowing down; showboating. We all knew he could run faster. His 200m run in the Bird's Nest was supposedly Bolt at his limit, straining to beat a supposedly unbeatable record, which he managed by 0.02 seconds. To see him, therefore, take over a tenth off that time in Berlin defied belief  - he even said he was tired beforehand.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9EiPCfPROtE


-Phillips Idowu wins triple jump World Championships (6)
We've waited, like Jonathan Edwards has in BBC commentary, to say this; Philips Idowu is a World Champion. Well, he was already one, after all he won the indoor title with what still is his longest legal jump, indoors or out. But the outdoor title was the big one. In the context of his self-perceived Olympic 'failure' (where he won silver) this was massive. The outdoor lifetime best he produced to win the gold was one of those leap-from-your-seat moments (anyone who watches sport at home will attest to the existence of those) - from the split second he landed from the step phase and launched himself towards the pit it looked good. His great rival Evora couldn't respond even in the final round, the vaguely anti-climatic moment where victory is assured by another man's failure, not by the final word of the victor. But no matter. A popular champion was made.


-Mark Cavendish wins Milan-Sanremo (7)
Never mind the 6 wins in the Tour de France - they, to some extent, were expected. Everyone knew the competition was not up to scratch over a flat stage with the Columbia lead-out train and Cav to finish it off, like a striker tapping an exquisite cross into an open net (not to denigrate his success, he's put in that position because he is the best). But Milan-Sanremo was a different beast; the longest one-day race on the calendar, short, tough climbs to contend with near the end, plus the lack of prior experience led many to dismiss Cavendish's chances outright. And when Heinrich Haussler took off from the bunch that remained into the finish in Sanremo, it looked as though Cav would have to wait another year. But not so.
I 'followed' the race on cyclingnews.com's live online text coverage, so sitting there pressing F5 is perhaps not the most dramatic way to learn the outcome of a sporting, but the satisfaction I gleaned from reading the words of a Cavendish win was surprisingly immense.



-Hayley Yelling wins 2009 European Cross Country Championships (8)
It was the year of the comeback. Except this one wasn't really supposed to happen. While Armstrong, Watson and (nearly) Schumacher held down the fort for the old guard and dominated the sports headlines, the gutsy but quite clearly retired runner Yelling was merely 'keeping fit'. Tempted out of retirement to run the Liverpool Cross Challenge, she won, thereby qualifying for the upcoming Europeanns in Dublin. Yelling set off at the front, out alone by five seconds, as she headed a pack of talented runners all looking round at each other. Unfazed and unperturbed, Yelling ploughed her lone furrow out in the lead, that strong and all-encompassing running action never wavering. Commentators Cram and Foster actually started to believe she could win - that it came about a kilometre from the finish was no matter to those sat at home who always held it. Truly inspirational performance.


(Sorry, no vid)



-Russell Downing wins Tour of Ireland (9)
In which David slays Goliath, albeit in Ireland. Having been denied victory in 2008 by ruthless Team Columbia teamwork, Russell Downing was out to make amends. The Yorkshireman, who races mainly in Britain for a small domestic team, took on the might of some top European squads with headline-grabbing riders. While opponents in Ireland, Lance Armstrong and Mark Cavendish, were traversing France in the highest profile race in the world in July, Downing was mopping up wins in decidedly unglamarous places like Colne in Lancashire. It started with a win from a breakaway group on stage 1, and he held the yellow jersey going into the third and final day. The race finished in atrocious weather in Cork, with two ascents of St. Patrick's Hill in the town to contend with. This was too much for many, including Armstrong, who decided that there were many places he'd rather be than on a bike up a 25% gradient, in the pouring rain.  Downing was isolated in a group of favourites at the front, and having been subjected to every attack the others could throw at him, launched a tour-winning counter attack. A much-deserved crack at the big time with the new Team Sky followed.

 
-Scotland beat Australia at Murrayfield (10)
The highlight of a rather drab Autumn International series, the Scots defended like hell for nearly the entire eighty minutes. There were about only three times Scotland made it over the Aussie's 10m line, and they resulted in three three-pointers; two penalties and a late drop goal. Australia's lone penalty score meant that only a converted try would do in the last few minutes, (one they should have had much earlier but for a mixture of mistakes and last-ditch tackling). Gold-and-green forward were camped on the Scottish try line in overtime, but they could not find a way through. Eventually, numbers told out wide and Cross, well, crossed over near the corner for five points. However, that gave the underperforming Matt Giteau a tough kick to win the game, and when it sailed wide, the Scots were rewarded with a heroic victory that demanded applause from everyone, no matter who you support.


missing the cut...(in no order)
England win the Ashes.
Roger Federer wins French Open and career Grand Slam.
Andy Murray defeats Stanislas Wawrinka under the lights at Wimbledon.
Dai Greene runs 48.24 for 400mH in Berlin semifinal.
Jenny Meadows 800m bronze.
GB men ride 2nd fastest team pursuit/women team pursuit WR.
Tom Watson *almost* winning the 2009 Open Championship.

Why I won't be getting the Rage this Christmas.

Now, I'm nobody's Simon Cowell fan, but I'm starting to think that the latest anti-X Factor/Syco (pronounced as 'Psycho' rather than my choice of 'Sicko', either way it's no win) protest is as predictable as it is tiresome. I'm not exactly bowled over at the prospect of Geordie Joe romping to the Christmas number 1, before the inevitably dull album release and the eventual career on the West End. I even bought into the previous year's Facebook campaign, the one where we were all supposed to go out and buy (actually, sit in and download) Jeff Buckley's version of 'Hallelujah' over the Alexandra Burke version.

But I'm starting to wonder, if there is any time of the year that we should lie down and give in to the crass commercialisation of popular music, then it's Christmas? After all, crass commercialisation is what Christmas has come to be associated with. The charts are likely to be filled with the same Christmas songs that have been doing the rounds for the last however many years. Christmas is the time of the year where people who know nothing about music buy albums for other people who know nothing about music and occasionally not actually from Tesco. Expect the impossibly bland housewives' favourite, Mickey Bubble, or whatever he's called, to be up there in the album charts alongside Lady GaGa and Susan Boyle, an unlikely threesome indeed (in all possible senses of the word). The prospect of the musical puppet McElderry topping the singles chart come the 25th is, in many ways, a perfect microcosm of a society in which we rush round trying to find the latest fad item to hastily wrap for our loved ones on the big day, before being even more hastily discarded/returned with the receipt/consigned to the shed on the 26th.

It is into this melee that the latest Facebook protest has arrived, in the form of Rage Against The Machine's 1992 song 'Killing in the Name', and our supposed purchase thereof. Someone, somewhere has presumably decided this would be incredibly clever to have as a song blaring out of our stereos over Christmas. As a title it is the worst there has been for a Christmas song (as it now is) since The Darkness released one containing 'bells end' in the title (a fact I believe singer Justin Hawkins said he was proud of). More worryingly, the song is dreadful. Seriously dreadful. It is the sort of utter wank that almost certainly influenced the early-noughties rise of nu-metal, and for that reason this song should be left in the vaults of music history and forgotten about.

Championing RATM over Cowell and his charges is exactly the kind of pseudo-edgy thing you'd do if you think rebelling is only buying the Fairtrade chocolate from your local Waitrose. Digging up a song from nearly two decades ago from a hugely successful band and lining their already deep pockets is not, in any way, shape or form, an act of protest - especially given the current bustling, burgeoning and varied UK indie scene producing a stream of great, unheard music (and by indie I mean the plethora of smaller, independent acts likely to be playing your nearest toilet venue and plugging their 7" single on MySpace).

But, say the protesters, it's about Cowell controlling the charts. Yes, he is to some extent, but if the only way to protest is by buying a single specific song which I might not happen to like, thankyouverymuch, then you can keep it. Sorry to say it, but the charts are and will continue dominated by Cowell and the major labels, and have always been. There's little we can do about that, and why would we want to? The charts are not about recognising true talent, they're about who has the biggest marketing budget and can pull a few strings with the radio giants, a two-pronged attack which will inevitably translate into sales. If that is what the protest is against, then I'm sorry, you've lost. Irretrievably so.

So this Christmas, I will be protesting against protesting. That is to say, do nothing at all and just enjoy Christmas for what it is. I invite you to do the same.

Athletics - it's all about the little victories.

Very few will ever get to reach the heights of pulling on the national vest for a major international event. For the rest of us, it's all about those little victories; boosting your profile by scooping up the successes behind the headlines. Here are some handy hints to Officially Make You A Better Athlete (TM):

1. If someone asks for where you are ranked in the country, quote your English ranking instead of your UK one for an instant position hike. You can find out this ranking (and many more) by logging in on the Power of 10 rankings page, or instantly on the TOPS site.

2. Compete in one of many events of varying obscurity. These can be either standard ones like 400m hurdles (of course), steeplechase, pole vault or hammer - mop up those county titles - or non-standard race distances like 300m, 600m or similar. My personal favourite is the 200m hurdles, probably run three or four times a year, followed by the double decathlon (Google it).

3. Race indoors. As a rule of thumb, your UK indoor ranking for a given performance is roughly one order of magnitude better than it would have been had you run the same time outdoors.

4. Why not combine points 2 and 3 and run a rarely-raced distance indoors? National top-ten glory surely awaits.

5. Race in Welsh/Scottish/Irish championships (they're usually open) for a boost to your national champs credentials - and say you've raced in another country as a bonus. Alternatively race in national race-walking/combined events competitions.

6. Race in the above, the Northerns/Southerns/Midlands or major open meetings like the Birmingham Games and UK Cross Challenge races and perhaps draw an international figure for a great start-line (let's face it, not the finish line) photo and a name to drop in the future when you're sat at home eating Pringles and watching the Olympics on telly.

Ranthology #2 - The Wonderful English Language

Classified ads are a great place to find people taking liberties with language. People always talk about having a 'Genuine reason for sale'. As opposed to what, an artificial reason? I don't want to be buying a car, ask why it is being sold and have the man go, 'Well, next week I'm moving to Kazakhstan with Dame Kelly Holmes and our 16 illegitimate children. I don't need the car; we're riding there on a cart pulled by Red Rum and Shergar'.

The problem with those adverts is that you have a limited number of words, so short, familiar phrases like this are used. These limitations causes further problems. The best advert I ever saw was in a cycling magazine. I think it was advertising a bike, although it could have been the Virgin Mary. It started off alright, a couple of lines describing the bike. Then it said, 'Genuine reason for sale. Never ridden, wife is pregnant'.

I rang him up anyway, because I was interested in buying a bike. He said 'have you got anywhere to put it?' - I said 'Well I've got room in the stable, I suppose'.

It frightens me just how many uses of the word 'fuck' there somehow happens to be. But how is it actually possible to 'shut the fuck up?' What, exactly, is the 'fuck' in this context? It could only be some sort of German suitcase manufacturer I've never heard of. As in:

'Right, darling, so I've packed the clothes, the suncream and the travellers' cheques. What should I do now?'

'Oh, just shut the fuck up, will you?!'

'Okay, done that, now what?'

'Now get the fuck out of here!'

That could work, I guess.

People go on about how friends, couples and partners apparently get on 'like a house on fire'. Well excuse me. I've watched the news - I've seen houses on fire. I happen to know that's not an experience you'd be happy to replicate. It doesn't work the other way round though. People don't go, 'Well, my house burnt down like a very cute couple'.

I suppose its something about the metaphorical 'heat' or 'sparks' that two people experience when they are together.

Anyway, I knew a guy who was going out with this quite wonderful girl who people said that about, and I was really, really jealous of him. Even I joined in however, saying that they were just like a house on fire. And I suppose I was right to say so, because she was hot and he asphyxiated to death in his sleep.

The court case hasn't come up yet and anyway,  I have an alibi.

Ranthology #1 - Standards.

I hate how people abbreviate TV programmes to just one word. Who Wants To Be A Millionaire is just 'Millionaire', Coronation Street is just 'Corrie', Strictly Come Dancing is just...bollocks.

It is though.

The one that irritates me the most though is Deal or no Deal. Just four short words and you can't be arsed even with those? So people shorten it to just 'Deal'. Even the continuity announcer on Channel 4 does it:

'Now on Channel 4, it's time for Deal'.

This confused me the first time I heard it, because I thought they'd just changed the rules.

Sort of, '22 boxes, a quarter of a million pounds, just one question. 'Deal?'

That seems like an unnecessarily harsh version of the programme, I mean I know there's a credit crunch on and all, but...That's not even the same show anymore, just Noel Edmonds going, 'Right, we're going to give you a tenner, and you can take it and you can fuck off. - go on, get out of here'.

The same drop in standards can be seen everywhere. Even in supermarkets. You go into Tesco now and you're supposed to do your own checkouts. That's bad enough, but they also expect you to take your own bags every time you go shopping - and you should, by the way.

These things wouldn't be so bad on their own, but put them together and it causes problems. Typical scenario:

You go into Tesco - with your bags - pick up a basket and go round the shop putting stuff into the basket. You come to the checkouts, you put your basket on one side, put your bags on the other side, put your stuff through the scanner. You're just about to put the first item into your bag and the machine does this:

'Unexpected item in bagging area. Unexpected item in bagging area.'

And you find yourself going - UNEXPECTED? IT'S A BAG! IT'S A BAG, FOR GOD'S SAKE.

I mean, of all the things you would expect to find, in a bagging area, I'd have thought that a bag would be pretty high up on the list. If you'd had said to me you'd put a traffic cone on there, maybe, I don't know, the head of a crocodile and Barack Obama's left testicle, then yeah, I'd have said that was unexpected as well.

It'd also be a bit...weird. For one thing, how did they scan through?

It's fine though, because I've started getting my own back on them. You know how, each time you shop and re-use a bag, you get a Clubcard point? Well, that's really worked out for me, because I now do all of my shopping one item at a time. I now have enough Clubcard points to actually buy Tesco, which is nice.

Grammatics - Double Negative

Oh shit. I didn't want to do this. It looks I'm going to be forced to say that Grammatics' new single is a little bit...sassy.


I hate myself. Really I do. It is a phrase mostly applied to lowest-common-denominator chav-'n'-b that dominates the top 40.


But the way that minimalistic intro shuffles into view, a simple vocal melody leading into a bass-oriented verse, provides a platform for singer Owen to flex his silky vocal chords in a slightly sultry fashion. Lyrics about 'heavenly letting go' and 'we could do somethine we'd never desired to try'. Oo er. Thankfully, however, no Grammatics song ever goes from A to B without passing X, Y, μ, γ and π on the way. The chorus lifts the song up another hip-swinging gear, with its 'Hey sugar!' line at once a surprise and a highlight, before taking a solid lurch to the left(field) - not the band - with a sprawling middle eight section (that seems to end up as a second, independent chorus). Oh how I struggle trying to apply conventional pop song structures to a track like this. Here the band explore the dreamier, more expansive side of their soundscape, coming over like a dancier Mew, as guitar and cello once again resume their uneasy but devastatingly effective marriage.

  
The thunderous drum pattern (which will probably draw more unfavourable - and entirely wrong - Foals comparisons) which underpins the entire song gets star billing for a moment towards the end before another blast of that second chorus. The drums on this record have been captured brilliantly, prominent in the mix and sounding full enough to almost appear as if the band are actually live on your stereo. 


Grammatics remain a classic Marmite band (another bloody phrase I hate myself for using); albeit a Marmite which few have been exposed to yet. This is 'pop' music crafted the way it should be. This is not a song to drift by in the background. It is fresh, exciting and just a little bit different. Give it a try, you might have found your new favourite band.


9/10


'Double Negative' is available on 7" vinyl and download. A clip is available to stream on their website or their MySpace.

Some opinions from the last few weeks in sport...or a small subset of it, at least.

In this edition:

Football - on Burnley (briefly), England and the World Cup.
Motorsport - Button - a worthy champion, 'Crashgate'.
Tennis - Andy Murray, just leave him be, part 11023.

And finally... - Silly names, silly puns and silly videos. Altogether rather silly.

Football.

In an earlier blog, I noted the peculiarity that was David Nugent signing for Burnley. Well, the sight of Burnley recording what may well be their biggest Premiership win of the whole season against Sunderland – three goals scored by two ex-Preston players – was a turn of events so bizarre I'm quite surprised the Rift didn't open under Turf Moor.

So England are off to the World Cup, amid a blaze of hype about this being our best chance yet to bring home the trophy (© the red tops 1997, 2001, 2005). Here we go again. Forgive me for being a tad cynical; all we've done to reach the finals is win two matches. Yes, you heard me right. Those matches are; v. Croatia (home) and v. Croatia (away). All the rest should be gimmes, quite honestly. Considering that A. this is supposed to be our national sport, B. the money poured into the Premiership (or EPL if you're from outside these shores) and C. the wealth (pun intended) of talent we admittedly have in this country, all the games not involving Croatia in this qualifying group bloody well ought to be put to bed by our players. Anything less is just laziness. Even beating Croatia is not exactly up there with historic footballing legend; so they once finished third in the World Cup? Big deal. Only the fact that England lost to them last time (in qualifying for Euro 2008), when they really shouldn't have done, has built up a fervour over beating a team that hasn't done anything in world football for a good decade into it being an achievement unto itself. Which it is not.

In the time since the last World Cup, English (and in some cases, British) sport has found a new level - GB+NI have finished fourth in the Olympic medal table, had two F1 world champions, had its best World Athletics championships since 1993 and been athletics (men's) Europa Cup champions, found its most successful tennis player in the Open era, dominated track cycling and uncovered two road stars, a first world diving champion and made names in swimming, in the pool and on open water. The football team's closest counterparts, the England rugby union team, defied expectation to reach the World Cup final and put up a great fight therein.

England's football team, meanwhile, has failed to make the last 16 teams in Europe for the one major tournament in that intervening period. They have now cemented their place amongst the last thirty-two names in the world, at the expense of those sleeping giants of the global game Andorra and Belarus. While I accept that they as a team have looked good in those games, putting away teams seemingly with a new found confidence and professionalism (well for all that money they fucking ought to be professional about it!). The first test comes against Brazil in the Middle East (because that isn't about the money at all); then the hard work actually begins. So far, the England National Football Team have achieved precisely this much:

________________________

End.

Motorsport.

Jenson Button. How can a man who won six Grands Prix in a season have his world title questioned - especially when no other driver has won more than two? Not only that, but he has been able to produce recovery drives when his qualifying performance has admittedly gone off the boil. His drive to secure the title was worthy of a champion - risky overtaking manoeuvres on Grosjean, Nakajima, Kobiyashi and Buemi (the latter from a car length's back - how on earth did he manage to brake so late?) showed unbelievable skill and mettle in a pressure situation sans pareil.

Furthermore, if Button doesn't deserve to win, then who does? Barrichello, for being AWOL when the Brawn was at its best? Vettel, who made errors at critical moments (eg at Turkey when he really should have won from pole) or Webber, quick on his day but just too inconsistent? If anyone pulls out the old 'he only won because of the car' - go and watch some fucking F1 and come back with something better. Champions in this sport are always made from a weighted sum of car and driver capability. When Nigel Mansell won in 1992 it was the culmination of a talented driver having a long career near the front, but with the destructively quick FW14B at his hands and feet, active suspension and all.

Anyone who has watched Jenson (as I have) from 2000, when he made his debut, would recognise a driver whose smooth driving style means he gets the best out of a good car, but is less able to make a bad car drive well, unlike say Hamilton who likes a tail-happy car anyway. But remember, champions always come from good cars, so Jenson's style meant that he would be up there with the best this season. Recall for instance Imola 2004, when Button put his Honda on pole and drove away from Schumacher in the first stint, (albeit on a slightly lighter fuel load) - Schumi referred to his pace as 'mind-blowing'. Compliments like those aren't handed out like penny sweets in the playground.

Jenson's world title has been the hardest to win - an early lead whittled away while the other teams caught up has left us on tenterhooks for months and put him under incredile pressure. More pressure, I suspect, than most of us would be able to handle. That alone should be reason enough to deflect criticisms of worthiness for his world title.

***

The main story of recent F1 was actually 'Crashgate'. Erstwhile Formula One commentator James Allen was a great fan of game theory, and specifically its application to a Grand Prix. He would get very excited about the boffins and their computers back in the team factory, running through different scenarios and plotting their outcomes. He would talk about the unusual strategies employed by teams 'out of position' on the grid. Most ironically, he would hold up Renault and Nelson Piquet Jr's one-stop strategy in Germany in 2008 as the gold standard on the subject; the one which vaulted him from his 17th starting slot to an eventual 2nd, thanks to a timely safety car.

Well it seems the Renault team decided to take the idea a stage or two further a few weeks later in Singapore. Under the floodlights, team bosses Flavio Briatore and Pat Symmonds (according to Piquet Jr. and his father) asked Piquet Jr. to crash in order to bring out the safety car – timed straight after teammate Fernando Alonso's pit stop, which allowed him to take the lead since all other teams would pit under the safety car conditions.

Can I make one thing clear though: it is not really race fixing, is it? Fixing implies that all the variables that make sport what it is have been influenced to such a degree as to be nullified; this necessarily includes those normally outside the participants' jurisdiction (in this case, the Renault team). In this case, 'all' Renault did was to use one of their own team members to maximise their chances of victory.

From a purely sporting perspective, Renault therefore did nothing hugely out of the ordinary. It is no more 'fixing' the outcome of a race than using the second driver to back the field up, while the lead driver scampers off into the distance. How many times has commentator Martin Brundle referred to the teammate as a 'rear-gunner' for his leader? Perhaps Brawn should be hauled in front of the FIA when Jenson Button won the Monaco Grand Prix by virtue of his teammate being slow enough to allow Button to open up a large gap in the first stint before his pit stop.

That is not to say that what Renault did does not cross a line, however. Asking a driver to crash is presumptuous in the extreme; although the safety levels in F1 have improved considerably, a car crash is an inherently unpredictable event, even with one of the world's most skilled drivers at the helm. Young Henry Surtees was killed as a result of a freak occurance in an accident earlier this year in a Formula Two race; how can any team boss risk this of their driver?

Renault got away lightly with the punishment; a suspended sentence rather than a fine. McLaren's involvement in the also-lazily titled 'Spygate' scandal of 2007 cost them $100m (interestingly, Renault were also implicated, but not punished). Perhaps with Renault reputedly on the edge of pulling out of the sport altogether, the result is not a surprise, especially since that figure may well run a team for two whole seasons in years to come.


Tennis.

Andy Murray. Again. Sorry, Murray haters. I know there's a lot of you.

So Murray played in the Davis Cup with a slight wrist injury, and aggrevates it to the point of having to pull out of Tour tournaments - including the Shanghai Masters. He'll be losing a stack of ranking points in the process in this, the indoor hard court leg of the World Tour (at which Murray is arguably the best in the world and is defending 3 titles including two Masters). All to try and fight a losing cause for a team whose credentials are of practically no worth at all. Now that they have been relegated to Euro/Africa Zone II, I hope Murray gives up on Davis Cup altogether. Now can you please get off his back and let him get on with it?

Dan's Wide Weird World of Sport

5 really silly names for sports teams:

Super Aguri (Formula One)
Evidently anything but super.

Total Network Solutions (now The New Saints) (Football)
Led to Sky Sports' Jeff Stelling's joke "They'll be dancing in the streets of Total Network Solutions tonight!"

Wakefield Trinity Wildcats (Rugby League)
Either name on its own would be bad enough, but both together? And the inclusion of 'Trinity' spoils the alliteration, surely the only reason for a name like 'Wildcats' in the first place.

Brisbane Roar (formerly Queensland Roar) (Football)
The fans of also-stupidly-named Perth Glory would chant 'Queensland Roar is a fucking stupid name, a fucking stupid name...'

Serramenti PVC Diquigiovanni-Androni Giocattoli (Cycling)
Just too long.

Ridiculously contrived sporting puns.

When Manchester United first won the Premiership and FA Cup in the same season, it was largely attributed to the state of the Old Trafford pitch, which was often compared to an Arctic area of permafrost. Commentators said they did the Double on tundra.

The tennis player jumped out of bed in the afternoon, having slept in. Rushing down to the tournament grounds he looked at his watch once more and exclaimed, in his Australian drawl, "I'm not going to be on time for my match!". He was late, he knew it.

I wish I was responsible for this, surely the greatest headline of all time. It was from The Sun, referring to the time Inverness Caledonian Thistle (perhaps another contender for silly team names) knocked Celtic out of the Scottish Cup:

'Super Caley Go Ballistic Celtic Are Atrocious'.

Genius.

Video of the month.

Thank God for Cuddles himself, Cadel Evans, superbly winning cycling's World Road Race Championships in Mendrisio in September because it gives me a perfect excuse to show this snippet from an interview during the 2008 TdF. No doubt the related videos will highlight some other contretemps with the press. But for the sheer incongruity of him holding a cuddly lion while berating a poor reporter this is a winner every time.

A racist on the BBC?

Finally, after all these years, on BBC1 on Thursday night a racist was unveiled to the nation. Yes, Andrew Neil on 'This Week'; in the week that Gordon Brown was forced to admit his favourite type of biscuit, Neil referred to his two studio guests Dianne Abbott and Michael Portillo (pictured below) at the top on the show as a 'chocolate hobnob' and a 'custard cream'. Shocking.

Clearly no offence was intended, but it did create one of those double-take, 'Did he really just say that?' moments. Sadly the show is un-iPlayer-able (to coin a word).

What is the point of Gok Wan?

The title is probably enough for most, but can anyone actually answer that question? I mean, for a start, that's not a real name. People don't call their kids Gok. I'm sorry, I know that's probably a bit...borderline, we wouldn't be having that problem if he was say, Gok Smith. But really. Gok. That's not a name, more like onomatopoeia from a Batman comic.

"Oh, I'm Gok. These are my brothers, Biff and Bam, and my sister, Kaboom."

And this guy gives fashion advice?!?! He looks like Mark Lammar, circa Shooting Stars, with his head trapped between closing lift doors. Just imagine Lammar when he was captain of team A, flanked by two teammates, each pushing against a cheek with an open palm. It's Gok!

If this blog achieves nothing else, I'd like to single-handedly be responsible for the downfall of Gok Wan. Is there such thing as career homicide? I'd like to try it.

Masterchef: The Professionals

Why the rush? Seriously.

This is a programme where snooty presenters oversee snooty chefs serving snooty food to snooty people. Just like the meals produced in the show, it is divided up into three distinct courses; the introductions to the chefs and the critics, followed by the actual cooking bit, then the X-factor style 'and the winner is...' results bit.

The main portion of the show, then, is a breathless run through the chef's individual perfomances in the kitchen; all close-range, quick-fire, heavily edited shots of the chefs at work. At all points the chef and ourselves are reminded of the eternally ticking clock in which one of the two presenters shouts a random number of minutes left before the food goes out, all interspersed with pseudo-profound, Yoda-esque one-liners. Adding to the overall perplexity is the pulsating dance music ensemble this whole thing is set to, giving that off-your-tits-on-E, Ministry of Sound feel to the proceedings. Probably the only reason the viewer doesn't keel over at this point is that the body can't decide what to have first; an epileptic fit or a mild coronary. That and the brief moments of respite where we watch the chef analyse his/her own performances in the sancturary of that bit at the back of the kitchen with shots of their tortured expressions betwixt morsels of hope or despair or both, coming on like it's the fucking Shawshank Redemption.

The whole emphasis on speed is baffling to say the least. On one occasion, when the chef ran out of his allotted 'time' and the meal was now Officially Late, the host pointed out that the diners 'will be waiting now.' What the hell were they doing hitherto? Playing bloody darts? Eventually the chefs get to 'plate up' - which is surely not a real phrase - where they take laughably large plates and arrange practically sod all on them, while the hosts stare down and shout 'come on' and cause the poor guy to put ice-cream on the fish and vinegar on the pudding amid the confusion. They are then presented to the judges who raise quizzical eyebrows at each other, forgetting all the while that they are BEING PAID to EAT FOOD. Lucky buggers. Just to ratchet the tension up another notch, the shots of each service are underscored by a single low musical note, giving the vague impression that one of the dishes has been poisoned or that the maitre'd is actaully concealing a large cleaver under his suit and about to turn on the critics. Which would be different, at least.

After a good twenty minutes of this carry on, the chefs are gathered together for the results. At this point, due to the mad rapid-fire production approach of the actual kitchen segment, no-one can quite remember who cooked what, including the audience at home, the hosts and even the chefs themselves. In fact by this stage, remembering what day of the week it is becomes quite a task. Compounding matters further, the presenters then announce the chefs in turn as winners and losers in no logical order, who - once they recall what their own names are - either stand in a non-designated winner's area or march disconsolantly out the door.

This process, with subtle tweaks, has been running for a number of weeks, whittling down the contenders. Eventually one chef will rise above all others, and presumably spend the rest of his/her days on Valium trying to calm themselves from the relentless time pressure they have been subjected to and go and work in the world's only Michelin-starred library. I have to say, however, that despite my attempts to send this programme up, I found it oddly compelling, if only because my idea of fine dining is one where you do the tin of beans in the pan instead of the microwave. I just wish they'd slow down a bit.

Tour de France 2010

So the parcours for the 2010 TdF was unveiled today. Hopefully the route will make up for what was a relatively stale edition this year. Certainly the organisers have pulled out a few extra stops along the way this time around. This news gives its fans a taste of what to expect and a vague excuse to start the first round of predictions, gossip and lick-your-finger-and-stick-it-in-the-air guesswork, which I will shamelessly try to do here.

This Tour of France will start in Holland (obviously), Rotterdam to be precise. Interestingly, with the 2009 Vuelta a Espana having started on the Assen TT circuit and the 2010 Giro d'Italia due to kick off in Amsterdam, that makes three Grand Tours in succession starting in the Low Country. Weird.

An almost certainly flat, 8km prologue will favour the usual suspects; so expect Cancellara and Wiggins to be fighting it out, along with Contador (whose TT abilities have improved massively) and Armstrong if he gets back to his former ways (and providing his team get an invite). Also this may be one for the powerful sprinters to get involved in; this year's green jersey Thor Hushovd has already set his sights on the short dash for yellow. With the race crossing into Belgium in the following days, this may give Tom Boonen the incentive to try and win the famous garment to wear into his homeland. In a recent interview he claimed he wished to improve his TT abilites for a tilt at the 2010 Worlds; this opportunity may be an extra motivation.

As mentioned, from Rotterdam the race moves on to Belgium for three stages. If Cancellara, Hushovd or Boonen get themselves high up in the GC early on, expect them to make a bid for the yellow jersey, or to extend their lead on stage three, a 207km dash across Belgium featuring the return of cobblestone sectors to the route. This will suit the strong men who feature in races such as Paris-Roubaix and the Tour of Flanders, who may try and make a break for the line and avoid the mass sprint finish that usually punctuates the early days of the Tour. This may give the new British squad Team Sky and its troupe of Classics specialists (for instance Flecha) to grab some glory. It will also be fraught with danger for the GC guys, with not much to gain, but plenty to lose in crashes and punctures that come with the cobbles.

Otherwise, the opening week of flat stages will give plenty for Britain's sprint superstar, Mark Cavendish, to lay down his challenge for the green jersey, which he lost in 2009 to Thor Hushovd, despite winning 6 stages along the way. The number of stages designated 'plain' is down one this coming edition from 10 to 9, but that is still plenty for Cav to get his teeth into. He flags up 8 stages for possible wins, anyone want to bet for less than 5 or 6? However, it remains to be seen how effective his Columbia team's lead out train will be this year, and especially with the emergence of rivals Garmin in recent months with the likes of Tyler Farrar and Chris Sutton (although he might be off to Sky), Hushovd again likely to be challenging, perhaps Boonen, McEwen and Ciolek too. Another shout might be the young Norweigan Edvald Boasson Hagen, winner of four stages in the Tour of Britain, the Eneco Tour and Gent-Wevelgem this year, this talented rider also moves to Sky for next year and could be one to watch when the peloton roars under the red kite. I'll also choose this time to mention Gert Steegmans, the Belgian who pinched a win from his leader Boonen in their home country and won on the Champs Elysses in 2008, before going AWOL in 2009 after a disagreement with his team. Now he has found a happy home at RadioShack he might well be back in form next year.

Of course, the race is won and lost in the mountains, and for the 2010 edition the giant Col du Tourmalet will make a return for its centenary, not once but twice (making up for the fact that it was undoubtedly wasted in its 2009 appearance) - once either side of the second rest day. For the second encounter the summit will act as the stage finish and its prominence in the middle of the third week, especially since the riders will have a free day beforehand, may decide the Tour in a similar way to Alpe d'Huez did in 2008 when Carlos Sastre attacked at the base of the climb and won the stage and ultimately the Tour.

The mountain goats that may contest this epic dash up the Col will have to include defending champion Contador, Andy Schleck, world champion Cadel Evans (if he rides - rumours suggest he may be farmed out to contest one of the other three-week tours instead). From a British perspective we must also consider Bradley Wiggins in this elite group of GC contenders, following his sensational fourth place in 2009. What may hinder his progress up the rankings this time around is the fact that the route in this year past could not have been better suited to him - even he accepts this as fact. There is only the single individual TT (outside of the prologue) - and no TTT. If he remains at Garmin, this will be sorely missed - look at how much time he gained with it in 2009. However, should he make the much-speculated transfer to Sky, a team without TT pedigree, this may be a blessing. This is not to take away from his new-found climbing abilities - he was up there mixing it with the best of the best in that respect, but the TT has always been Bradley's speciality on the road and losing vital kilometres in the discipline will hinder his podium credentials.

Where Wiggins loses, so Andy Schleck (the 2009 runner-up) gains. He was the one rider who looked to match Contador on the mountains and may have ridden away from him on the Ventoux were he not looking after big brother Frank so much. As Contador's future looks uncertain at the moment after his Astana team seems to have been pulled from underneath him by Armstrong and the RadioShack boys, perhaps the super-strong Saxo Bank squad could put Schleck in the favourite's position for 2010? Certainly he will have a fighting chance against Contador, who is not invincible (look back to the Dauphine Libere for proof of that). Armstrong himself is a complete mystery - an incredible return to the sport saw him land a podium; will his team of loyal lieutenants like Leipheimer, Zubeldia and Popovych be enough to offset his advancing years and bag him another top three finish? I would hesitate to say yes, but if there's one man you don't want to write off...

Just to be different, I'm going to back Schleck the younger for the big W in 2010, but going back over the potential list of names contending in the sprints and in the mountains, combined with the adventurous and varied route, leaves me to conclude that this Tour de France could well be the most exciting in years. Doesn't it feel like the past few years of gradually weeding out the cheats, the new talent emerging alongside old contenders and surprise names is building to a head for next year? Furthermore, with cycling as a sport on the verge of really taking off in Britain, the emergence of Cavendish, Wiggins and Team Sky (even though they will be competing for column inches with the football World Cup) might send it into overdrive. And wouldn't that be something?