It hasn’t been an especially busy weekend but I have enjoyed a relaxed three days. I had never been to a Point to Point meeting before today but the races at Maisemore were exciting and competitive and the whole event was really well organised. I’d go again. I picked the first two winners, the second at a healthy 13 to 2, and a further success beckoned in the fifth race. I finished fifteen pounds up at the end of the day and would certainly have settled for that outcome this morning. We had a lovely view of proceedings too; the raised land provides a fine natural grandstand.
Gloucester qualified for Heineken Cup rugby football on Friday after Saracens failed to defeat what appeared to be, on the highlights, an extremely profligate Leicester outfit that spurned one try-scoring opportunity after another. Yesterday’s 31-7 victory at Leeds, then, meant nothing in terms of qualification but did set up a fascinating battle with Wasps next weekend, a fifth against fourth square-up with the winner snatching a play-off semi-final spot. I have always been against these daft play-offs and the concept of a winner-takes-all final but I can understand the argument this season that nine of the twenty-two league matches have suffered through international calls-up so the best team/squad may not necessarily make it to the top slot. I am less negative about the set-up than I used to be but it is still rather unsatisfactory.
I heard a song on the radio yesterday and, by the time it had finished, I had thought sagely to myself that this was possibly my most hated number ever. Oblique and pretentious – and possibly meaningless - lyrical content, a dire melody as well as a ghastly association with rank, middle-brow entertainers lead me to loathe Send in the Clowns with vigour. Other songs I really, really can’t bear to listen to include I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor, Mr. Sandman by The Chordettes, Java Jive (I Like Coffee, I Like Tea) by The Inkspots, and many others. Anything by The Eurythmics or, particularly, the solo Annie Lennox will lead me to sprint to a radio’s on/off switch with my hands pressed over my ears for protection. I can’t bear Lennox.