Just Another Depressing Day

Almost a week after the debacle at Harlequins, the message boards are still in full debating mode. Even the dreaded word, ‘relegation’, has been touted and my next door neighbour, a haunted look on his face as befits a man still supporting the lads into his 70s, raised the spectre of this possibility earlier. I would anticipate at least two more home wins against Leeds and Saracens but obviously I would love the city to compete and win all their remaining matches. My ongoing ostrichdom has not been allowed to continue and an email from D - who was 'there', poor soul - has metaphorically pulled my shapely and well-preserved neck from the burning sand: ‘Let me attempt to thwart your attempts at not thinking about the current state of GRFC. We were dreadful on Saturday, it was an abject surrender and totally unacceptable.’ I guess we both agree that an overhaul is necessary and I look forward to a host of quality players arriving to replace those who are simply not good enough - and there are plenty of the latter wearing the famous crest right now.

I have been playing Vashti Bunyan’s great lost album, ‘Just Another Diamond Day’ a fair bit over the last few days and even breakfasted to its gentle and whimsical charms this morning. The catalyst was last week’s Fairport Convention gig which has prompted me to review the ‘folk’ section of my music collection. Vashti Bunyan moved to the rural Outer Hebrides in the late 60s with her fellow and her new baby and wrote the most touching, evocative songs all painting pictures of the most idyllic sounding rustic life. The vocals are quietly breathed; the arrangements are understated but intelligent. It really is a perfect little piece of art.

I had aimed to pen a few words last night during the half time break of the England vs. Holland soccer international. However the game was so dull I promptly fell fast asleep after twenty minutes (shades of the Acid Mothers Temple set at The Guildhall last year) and when I awoke at 11pm I felt totally rank and unable to move. At least I wasn't dribbling.