Cross-Code Cavaliers, Cardinals and Clappers

I spotted the behemoth and cross-code rugby traveller known with affection as ‘The Volcano’ yesterday. Lesley Vainikolo was strolling casually up Westgate Street in merry Gloucester, enjoying the Sunday sun with a couple of comrades, one of the male, ahem, gender and one of the female. He appeared relaxed and content with life, and, as far as one could ascertain, physically fit. I didn’t approach him but was tempted and in retrospect, wish I’d barked a brief ‘halloa!’ and enquired how things were goin’.

As I type these words, I’m playing Gold by Ryan Adams, a true 21^st century classic packed with emotionally wrought numbers, sung with vitality and vim. The tunes are striking and elegant. It remains a lovely album, one of my favourites. A couple of nights ago, thanks to my Virgin+ Box (me bleedin’ pride and joy) I was able to watch Adams, with his backing group The Cardinals, in concert at London’s St Luke’s. It is my belief that the presence of a backing group lends Adams more discipline as a live performer and the collective appeared tight and talented. If only Adams had been on this form when I travelled to Bristol, with high expectations, to see him ‘in concert’ a while ago; that evening remains possibly the nadir of my gig-going past rivalled only by the inexcusable Earnest Cox/Cuban Heels/Ghosting triple bill from hell at Gloucester Guildhall that still finds me waking, drenched in sweat, some nights, whimpering sorrowly, ‘Megaphone... why?’. The television coverage of Adams was embellished by regular shots of the endearing and appealing Newent-raised media player D, who was obviously targeted by the show’s producer for his well-honed talent for applauding with warmth and vigour. His childlike beam at the end of Carolina Rain almost brought a tear to these world weary eyes.