More corruption in Football

So England has lost another football manager. To be honest, I didn’t even know that we’d lost Roy Hodgson, though it was understandable after England’s dismal performance in the Euros. Sam Allardyce is now known to be England’s most successful manager; having won all of his games during his 67 days in charge. So where has this dodgy guy come from; and why has he suddenly felt the need to encourage further corruption in English Football? Once again, our national sport is in charge of the rich who just want to keep it running as a business rather than a leisure activity, and there’s no passion left in the spirit of the game. Rumours are now abound that Arséne Wenger should be recommended for the job, as at least he’s in charge of a successful team, even if half of them are foreigners. But it’s been speculated that he’s been enjoying himself too much at his own team and doesn’t want to leave or manage both posts; especially since half of it is named after himself. It’s probably because the pay is better.   

It's not all Gloom for the Greyhound

Members of Bromsgrove District Council voted to stop the bulldozers from demolishing the Greyhound in October. Concerned residents of Rockhill and members of the Redditch & Bromsgrove branch of the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) gathered at the council’s planning committee meeting to voice their views over the proposed development.

Many people were concerned that permission to demolish the pub could be granted without the need of a full planning application. Representing the developers, Mr. Morris said that the demolition was necessary to improve the road in the form of a roundabout. However, no such plans for the construction of a roundabout were available at the meeting.

Redditch & Bromsgrove CAMRA’s Pub Officer Martin Hancox said: ‘The pub should be saved. It’s a viable community asset and has been very popular with customers in the past; serving food and supporting a local darts team.’ Pubs Preservation Officer Cy Day added: ‘I can only say that the people currently responsible for the Greyhounds have tried to take a shortcut to demolish this much-loved pub’.

The decision means that a full consultation must now take place, and the council must also vote on an application to list the pub as an asset of community value, of which Redditch and Bromsgrove CAMRA submitted to them in September. Councillor Luke Mallett (pictured rear middle) said that the committee have made the right decision.

The site of the Greyhound dates back to the nineteenth century when it was known as an old quarryman’s pub. 

Out of the mouth of Babes

The nation has been shamed. Brooke Blair, a five-year-old girl from Coventry, has spoken out against the Prime Minister because of her lack of action in helping the homeless. “You should be out there, Theresa May, biscuits and helping to build houses”. She’s since appeared on social media and has been interviewed by the press to hear of her aspirations to become the next Prime Minister. It’s natural that children should be curious about the world that they see, and upset about the unpleasant unfairness in our world. The fact that Brooke is practically telling off the Prime Minister demonstrates how intelligent the next generation of children will be. But while this attraction will only inflate her ego, it also puts the rest of us to shame. Because in less than five years, Brooke has raised issues that many campaigners have struggled for years to highlight in the press. It goes to show that the people in power aren’t working hard enough to help the homeless; and clearly there is much more to be done.

Chesterton Mill

While driving through the southern part of Warwickshire one night trying to deliver to a village with the wrong postcode, I came across a windmill on a hilltop in a field. As I got closer, I saw a wooden board near a gate suggesting that it was open to visits and I decided that it would be a great place to try and find a walk. On one weekend, when I’d failed to get up early enough to do anything, I decided to check it out. Of course, I left it far too late to do any proper planning and ended up printing a dodgy map off with just a blue line to show for the roads and footpaths. When I arrived, I parked opposite the windmill and decided to explore that first in case the weather changed, and I was also hoping that there would be some information available about local walks. This wasn’t the case; there was some general information about the history of the mill but signs made it quite clear that the footpath to the mill was clearly designed for an in/out approach. My next plan was to download the route to my phone which would be more accurate but no route could be found. In the end I decided to follow the road for a maximum of two miles looking for a footpath. I found one in ten minutes in the right direction which headed through a field but it turned out that this was too soon. Although I’d managed to half my mileage I’d also missed out on a lot of water features. But at least I got out there.

Wake Up Robbie

I’ve just heard the latest Robbie Williams song. It’s terrible. The main backing beat is a tinny drum with big bass that sounds like someone’s been bouncing a basketball around the recording studio. The main chorus seems to be of the Red Army marching through Red Square. Amazingly, it is called Party Like a Russian but it’s just so dross and dull, and the lyrics echo the format of an earlier song called Too Gentle. Chris Evans thought that It was amazing, but perhaps that’s because he’s watching the video of the Russian dancers, or maybe it’s because Robbie is making a guest appearance on his show next week. The trouble with established artists is that when they run out of novel material they try to sell themselves on their name alone and hope that this is enough to ride on the next wave of pop sales. Having heard this on the radio, I’m not going to rush out and buy it, and for Robbie’s sake I really hope that this isn’t one of his feature tracks on his new album.  

The Adventures of Mike Sharrack #sharrack1

Mike looked at the picture on the wall. ‘Yes, I remember.’ he said. ‘It was when me and the captain were touring the U.S after we’d won the war. Most of the squadron had got pulled back to Britain but we were asked to head over and help with the training on the next batch of privates. Anyway, it was the first full day of our tour and we had a few days leave before we started work and the victory parades were still in full swing. We’d done a march with a local homecoming parade and we’d been dismissed for the day and there were people giving out free food and beer for everyone in the force. So there we were drinking away when all of a sudden this group of local lasses started to walk up to us and sing. They’d thrown their clothes away and were coming up to us to congratulate us for our efforts; it was great.

I am the Cider Drinker

I’ve been treated like royalty. I’d been asked to find a judge for a local cider competition, and not being a cider fan myself I’d asked a few experts but found them to be unavailable. So not wishing to disappoint them, I put myself forward. It was a rainy day and I’d decided to take a lazy morning and wondered if I was too late and that they’d wanted to start and finish earlier. I’d got some home-grown pears that were slightly hard and I was hoping to press them into juice. As the shredding started, I realised that I’d brought nowhere near enough, so they ended up being added to someone’s apple juice. But I called away between the pressing and the pulping to start judging ciders. What I didn’t realise that there were eight ciders to judge in addition to the six commercial ones on sale; and that my results were broadcast as part of the entertainment! So even though I didn’t get any pear juice it was great fun as I had a discount on some cider to take home, a banana loaf to take home and a charity tombola basket which will serve well as someone’s Christmas present.