A Worthy Mention for Timothy Smith
Thankfully I have got a ticket for the Bristol match having been, without realising it, on a waiting list for a ticket, a number of which arrived, unsold, from our West Country rivals. My delight on the phone was not matched by the girl-youth at the GRFC office who’s apathy brought a new meaning to the word. Of course, the big game is this Sunday and it shall prove either to be the greatest game of this century or the dampest squib of all time. James Forrester starts in place of the admirable Adam Balding, my player of the season thus far. The make up of the back row has proved the focus of much debate on the Chronicle and for the life of me I am not sure of the most effective trio. The nagging doubt remains that the mighty Boer should, on form, the player who makes way but this is unthinkable, verging on the blasphemous. Who’d be a coach.
The other major talking point is whether Jon Goodridge is deserving of the fair amount of criticism that has headed his way. I’m afraid to say that I regard the fellow as the weak link in the current side, decent in attack, strong at kicking but not up to Premiership standard defensively when tackling, covering space or fielding high balls. Thinking about it, fullback is the one position where I have seen fewest incumbents in a particular shirt. Tim Smith made the position his own for years (and, oh, for his swagger and poise now) while Chris Catling spent a number of seasons as the bravest tackler in the league and one of the canniest counter attackers around. A few cameos from the likes of Marment, Mapletoft and Delport all impressed in various ways and in all cases I was more than happy to see their names on the team list. Sadly, this is not the case with Goodridge whom I feel will never quite make the grade. In the short term I feel our inexperience in the back three will prove the difference between the two sides this Sunday.
I always shied timidly away from the experimental, space rock outfit, Godspeed You Black Emperor!, fearing their rambling, post-rock musing might be beyond the pale for me. However, I adore their album, Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven, a Christmas present and a welcome addition to the Cole CD collection. The music builds gently to shimmering crescendos and there are plenty of drones for those who admire them and, frankly, you can never have enough droning in my opinion. The musicianship is studied and intelligent and really rather beautiful. I was playing this earlier and am rather keen to investigate more of their back catalogue. They're Canadian. Don't allow this to put you off though.
