Most people who know me will know that my glass is never half full, or at least not for very long. I do however lean towards being half full, or quarter full, rather than half empty or three quarters empty. I have the same feelings as most people, I am far from being anything different or special in that department. I get down sometimes, I can be a miserable bugger at times and rumour has it that my patience at random times can waver. What I try to do however is not dwell on things and move on, and usually, after a bit of sulking or a quiet spell, I snap out of it pretty quickly and the smile returns.
I have had a few conversations in recent weeks which have inspired me to write this blog. I was telling a story about how my girlfriend’s car was stolen on the last day of the first year of university when we were moving out. About 95% of everything I owned was in the car and we had just booked a holiday. Given that the car was stolen when I was in the shower, I didn’t have a clean pair of socks to my name, nor a change of clothes, and we had just booked an expensive holiday. I was heartbroken.
That was horrendous at the time, but far worse was when I lost my laptop/had it stolen last winter. More than possessions, losing photos, files, work, ideas, personal details and information is far worse.
When you are 31 years old, these things happen at some point in your life. Loved ones die, accidents happen, mistakes are made. Nobody takes any joy from these things, but after a period of sadness, upset and sometimes anger, there is a reflection period and then I try to look for positives. There may not be many, but in everything we do, you can always find a positive or an opportunity – something that can offer hope.
I am in Edinburgh today. We got up and headed to the train station to find that the first train was delayed for 21 minutes which would mean that we would miss the main connecting train to Edinburgh. There may have been a curse or two I admit – why can’t trains run in the UK like they do in Switzerland? After ten of the 21 minutes had lapsed, it had dawned on me that I had left the Bon Jovi tickets at home. A quick phone call to Uncle George, who zipped down the road to pick me up and we got the tickets and back to the station with two minutes to spare. If the train had not have been 21 minutes late, we would have been sat on the train to Edinburgh without our tickets. Some strange and affected people I know may say it would have been a blessing to miss the Bon Jovi concert, but I don’t see too much hope for them.
Funny how these things happen. I am not comparing it to death or stolen items, but it is amazing how these things happen. Coincidences just come around the corner when you are not expecting them and instances which may appear to be negatives can turn into positives. With virtually everything I do, or what happens to me, I try to find opportunities from them. It keeps me sane rather than dwelling on the consequences or what may have happened.
And the exact opposite is the same for me. I always try and keep grounded when great things happen. I sometimes get called out when I say something is ‘not bad’ rather than great. I like to keep things in perspective, and when I think something is great I certainly show it. I am the guy at Goodison Park who tries to keep people grounded when we are doing well, and tries to remain calm and steady when things are desperate. It is not that I do not have the highs and lows, I have plenty of them. Controlling my emotions and balancing them is key to how I deal with things and then I make my decisions.
I got lucky this morning. If the train was 18 minutes late, we would have been in trouble. There are some days when you hit every red light when you are in a rush. These things even themselves out, you’ll get the green lights some days, you just need to remember them when everything appears red.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
A Hairy Situation
Two of the most important ladies in my life have a major conflict. You always hope that your mum and wifey-to-be will get along, but sometimes there are pretty major obstacles that get in the way of a harmonious relationship. For almost six years, this has been a major obstacle, and leading up to our big day, it could be even more contentious. So I have decided to end the debate here and now.
Some people like facial hair and others do not. It makes a difference I guess if you have to come into contact with it. Thankfully HJ loves it and has never complained even when I have gone for the Stanley Cup Play-Off style beard.
Mum however has not been Bearded Bobby’s biggest fan. Anything longer than a millimetre and Mum’s fading eyes miraculously spark into action even on the webcam, and a new shaving kit is ordered. When I make it back to Leeds and there is a welcome home kiss or a farewell kiss on my departure, I’m forced to pucker my lips out as far as possible to avoid any major bristly contact.
So you can see my dilemma and there is a compromise to be reached. I can hereby confirm that there will be facial hair on August 4th, albeit a shadow, nothing too bristly, but enough. Nothing too outrageous, but I am calling it now.
Shaving and trimming can be a pain sometimes, but I much prefer the facial hair to baby face. I remember being 13-years-old and sprouting my first little fury moustache, and finally plucking the courage to shave it off one day under the supervision of my dad and sister. They were ever so forthcoming in their help and advice, and suggested the use of after shave immediately after. So kind and thoughtful as they are.
Back at school, I was one of the most developed in a hairyfying sense. Nothing too monkey like, but I was one of the youngest to have hairs on my legs (apart from one unfortunate girl), and rather than revel in my maturity and masculinity, I always found it a little embarrassing. As soon as school broke up for summer back in 1994, I sat in the bath and impulsively decided to shave my legs. I thought it may make me look slicker, maybe run a little faster on the football pitch. And if I looked like a complete fool, I had six weeks to grow something back. Nobody warned me of the science behind shaving and that it tends to grow back faster.
I guess most kids go through this kind of stuff. The irony is that we are often desperate to get rid of it when we are younger and we are desperately clinging on to it when we grow older. Having a hair-challenged dad, I have asked two hairdressers in the last couple of years as to whether they think I will lose mine, and both have said not. Thankfully, I followed Dad’s advice for the aftershave, but got mum’s genes there.
So as I am reaching my prime, I am aiming for a happy medium and going for just a little facial hair, nothing drastic and nothing that will cause any facial rashes to any unsuspecting wife, mum, sister, auntie etc. But I’m calling it, so do not be surprised on August 4th. Hopefully the ladies will resolve their major differences and we will all live happily ever after.
Some people like facial hair and others do not. It makes a difference I guess if you have to come into contact with it. Thankfully HJ loves it and has never complained even when I have gone for the Stanley Cup Play-Off style beard.
Mum however has not been Bearded Bobby’s biggest fan. Anything longer than a millimetre and Mum’s fading eyes miraculously spark into action even on the webcam, and a new shaving kit is ordered. When I make it back to Leeds and there is a welcome home kiss or a farewell kiss on my departure, I’m forced to pucker my lips out as far as possible to avoid any major bristly contact.
So you can see my dilemma and there is a compromise to be reached. I can hereby confirm that there will be facial hair on August 4th, albeit a shadow, nothing too bristly, but enough. Nothing too outrageous, but I am calling it now.
Shaving and trimming can be a pain sometimes, but I much prefer the facial hair to baby face. I remember being 13-years-old and sprouting my first little fury moustache, and finally plucking the courage to shave it off one day under the supervision of my dad and sister. They were ever so forthcoming in their help and advice, and suggested the use of after shave immediately after. So kind and thoughtful as they are.
Back at school, I was one of the most developed in a hairyfying sense. Nothing too monkey like, but I was one of the youngest to have hairs on my legs (apart from one unfortunate girl), and rather than revel in my maturity and masculinity, I always found it a little embarrassing. As soon as school broke up for summer back in 1994, I sat in the bath and impulsively decided to shave my legs. I thought it may make me look slicker, maybe run a little faster on the football pitch. And if I looked like a complete fool, I had six weeks to grow something back. Nobody warned me of the science behind shaving and that it tends to grow back faster.
I guess most kids go through this kind of stuff. The irony is that we are often desperate to get rid of it when we are younger and we are desperately clinging on to it when we grow older. Having a hair-challenged dad, I have asked two hairdressers in the last couple of years as to whether they think I will lose mine, and both have said not. Thankfully, I followed Dad’s advice for the aftershave, but got mum’s genes there.
So as I am reaching my prime, I am aiming for a happy medium and going for just a little facial hair, nothing drastic and nothing that will cause any facial rashes to any unsuspecting wife, mum, sister, auntie etc. But I’m calling it, so do not be surprised on August 4th. Hopefully the ladies will resolve their major differences and we will all live happily ever after.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Sleep is Overrated
As I sat in the O2 arena on Friday night, it crossed my mind for the first time that it may be time to seek help. We all do crazy and random things occasionally, some more than others, but it is often when we reflect on them, that we delve deeper into the reasons why we did them or why we do them.
Last week was a hectic week. Great fun, plenty of travel, a thousand laughs, the occasional uncomfortable moment or two, a bit of sun, a lot of rain, some new faces, some old faces. All combined make some great moments. Even the bad moments, they all contribute to memories. The secret is trying to have some great memories and trying to ensure the great ones outweigh the tough ones, and not letting the tough ones weigh more heavily on one’s mind than the ten amazing ones. So, when I was bent over a Toronto toilet last weekend, producing the goods from my stomach, it was not exactly a moment I hoped would stick in my memory for too long. Note to self: several beers and car rides are not a good combo for sensitive Bobby. They never have been and they never will. Walk Bobby, walk. Hardly a proud moment but we move on.
Fast forward to Friday night and I find myself sat in the fantastic O2 Arena in London watching an old favourite of mine. Barry and I go a long way back. Back to the old days when Auntie Joan and Uncle George used to take my sister and I on these great long road trips to Primrose Valley and Filey. Thankfully I had not been introduced to alcohol at that point, or my love for Barry may not have developed so positively.
Friday night was fantastic. There is absolutely nothing like singing at the top of your voice, no matter how bad a singer you are, and just not having a care in the world apart from that very moment. Whether it be in the O2, in the shower, or in the car, there is something very cleansing about it, even if it is Barry. So, to give you a taste of Barry, I strongly recommend you click here and enjoy this song – bare with me. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q5IifdSv9Gk
Rewinding back to midweek and I found myself in Barcelona. I have been to one Clasico before – Figo’s return in white. While this was not quite the best game I have ever seen, it was a fantastic occasion and what better way to get absolutely drenched in a downpour than to be sat in the Camp Nou enjoying one of the greatest teams in the history of football. That may seem like a slight exaggeration, but I cannot think there has ever been anything better than this Barca team, and this Lionel Messi and I doubt anybody could genuinely oppose that. My man of the match was Lassana Diarra – amazing display for Real, and I was amazed once again by the midfield duo of Iniesta and Xavi. Everybody talks about their play on the ball which is special, but their work rate as that of the team itself, is often underrated as they work so hard to win the ball back. A different world to the O2, but an absolute pleasure to watch. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RIw-J60gsZM&feature=channel_video_title
Rewinding further back to Toronto and UFC 129 – the first ever Mixed Martial Art event in Ontario and 55,000 fans came out to visit – some further than others. An amazing event, even when one is struggling with a hangover. We visited the Expo on the Friday and enjoyed a fantastic Q&A with Dana White – the UFC president. Fans could ask a question to the Dana, followed by any request they would like, and Dana would do his best to make that come true. Requests ranged from tickets, to sitting with the ring girls, to putting the belt on the champion, and Dana did his utmost to make them reality. What sporting organisation or federation in the world does that? I am unaware of any and that is what puts the UFC at the top of the chain as far as interaction with their fans goes and many could learn from this. A slight contrast to Barca and Barry, but an absolutely fantastic event but for different reasons. The highlight of the event for me was the gutsiest display I have seen in a long time from Mark Hominick, who will now have more fans after this fight than he did prior to it. This one is neither for the feint hearted, nor those with a queasy stomach from a hangover but here goes. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YROSBBBlDE4
I sincerely hope you watched all three videos. It will give you a clearer idea of why I was sat watching Barry on Friday night, wondering what exactly was wrong with me. Maybe there is a reasonable crossover of fans between football and UFC, but throwing Barry into the mix, in the space of a week, has psychologist written all over it. I guess we cannot help how we are, and how we are made up, and there is not always a reasonable explanation for any of it. Probably best just to enjoy it all, even the less glamorous moments in the bathroom, keep smiling and store the moments in the memory bank.
Last week was a hectic week. Great fun, plenty of travel, a thousand laughs, the occasional uncomfortable moment or two, a bit of sun, a lot of rain, some new faces, some old faces. All combined make some great moments. Even the bad moments, they all contribute to memories. The secret is trying to have some great memories and trying to ensure the great ones outweigh the tough ones, and not letting the tough ones weigh more heavily on one’s mind than the ten amazing ones. So, when I was bent over a Toronto toilet last weekend, producing the goods from my stomach, it was not exactly a moment I hoped would stick in my memory for too long. Note to self: several beers and car rides are not a good combo for sensitive Bobby. They never have been and they never will. Walk Bobby, walk. Hardly a proud moment but we move on.
Fast forward to Friday night and I find myself sat in the fantastic O2 Arena in London watching an old favourite of mine. Barry and I go a long way back. Back to the old days when Auntie Joan and Uncle George used to take my sister and I on these great long road trips to Primrose Valley and Filey. Thankfully I had not been introduced to alcohol at that point, or my love for Barry may not have developed so positively.
Friday night was fantastic. There is absolutely nothing like singing at the top of your voice, no matter how bad a singer you are, and just not having a care in the world apart from that very moment. Whether it be in the O2, in the shower, or in the car, there is something very cleansing about it, even if it is Barry. So, to give you a taste of Barry, I strongly recommend you click here and enjoy this song – bare with me. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q5IifdSv9Gk
Rewinding back to midweek and I found myself in Barcelona. I have been to one Clasico before – Figo’s return in white. While this was not quite the best game I have ever seen, it was a fantastic occasion and what better way to get absolutely drenched in a downpour than to be sat in the Camp Nou enjoying one of the greatest teams in the history of football. That may seem like a slight exaggeration, but I cannot think there has ever been anything better than this Barca team, and this Lionel Messi and I doubt anybody could genuinely oppose that. My man of the match was Lassana Diarra – amazing display for Real, and I was amazed once again by the midfield duo of Iniesta and Xavi. Everybody talks about their play on the ball which is special, but their work rate as that of the team itself, is often underrated as they work so hard to win the ball back. A different world to the O2, but an absolute pleasure to watch. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RIw-J60gsZM&feature=channel_video_title
Rewinding further back to Toronto and UFC 129 – the first ever Mixed Martial Art event in Ontario and 55,000 fans came out to visit – some further than others. An amazing event, even when one is struggling with a hangover. We visited the Expo on the Friday and enjoyed a fantastic Q&A with Dana White – the UFC president. Fans could ask a question to the Dana, followed by any request they would like, and Dana would do his best to make that come true. Requests ranged from tickets, to sitting with the ring girls, to putting the belt on the champion, and Dana did his utmost to make them reality. What sporting organisation or federation in the world does that? I am unaware of any and that is what puts the UFC at the top of the chain as far as interaction with their fans goes and many could learn from this. A slight contrast to Barca and Barry, but an absolutely fantastic event but for different reasons. The highlight of the event for me was the gutsiest display I have seen in a long time from Mark Hominick, who will now have more fans after this fight than he did prior to it. This one is neither for the feint hearted, nor those with a queasy stomach from a hangover but here goes. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YROSBBBlDE4
I sincerely hope you watched all three videos. It will give you a clearer idea of why I was sat watching Barry on Friday night, wondering what exactly was wrong with me. Maybe there is a reasonable crossover of fans between football and UFC, but throwing Barry into the mix, in the space of a week, has psychologist written all over it. I guess we cannot help how we are, and how we are made up, and there is not always a reasonable explanation for any of it. Probably best just to enjoy it all, even the less glamorous moments in the bathroom, keep smiling and store the moments in the memory bank.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Drama Queen
If you live in Switzerland and are not Swiss, chances are you watch a lot of television series on DVD. I think HJ and I have watched more in the three and a half years we have been here than ever before. So, as I am sat on another plane to good old Barcelona, I have decided to rank my favourites and also those that have bombed in my view. Why are mindless random exercises far more appealing than the things (ie work) I have to do?
1. Top of the list for me undoubtedly is Dexter. I love the books and the show is just as good. Killing is not good kids, but killing those who do genuinely bad things and get away with them? Hmmm, now there is the dilemma. The other issue is, Dexter is a charmer. A fantastic show which has to rank at the top of my list.
2. A very close second for me is The Sopranos. Absolutely quality show and one that had me completely hooked. A little brutal at times, though still possibly comes second to good old Dexter in that ranking also. Tony is another character that is kind of hard to dislike too much, despite doing some pretty shocking things.
3. Next on my list is a show which I have only seen two series of but I have been hooked – Burn Notice. This one seems to fly under the radar a little, but is fantastic nevertheless. This one is a bit of an underdog, and if you have not heard of it, this one gets my recommendation. Not as brutal as the first two, but action packed and a ridiculously cool and hot lead couple.
4. This one may not exactly increase my street cred but HJ and I are huge fans of The Good Wife. An intelligent show with some great characters .We are halfway through the second series right now and we are in the painful situation of having to wait a whole week for the next episode – the one advantage to DVD sets! We hope you have switched the DVD player on recently Mum!
5. This one is pretty much English I think and does not seem to have transferred to other countries particularly well, but Spooks is one of our all time favourites. This may be controversial, but it just nudges 24 out of my top five, which gives you a fair reflection of how good I think it is.
Honourable mentions go to The Wire, Hustle, 24, Friends, Brothers & Sisters, Grey’s Anatomy and Prison Break.
Selecting my worst and most overrated five does not seem quite so easy but I will give it a shot.
1. This may upset a fair few folks but I have to say Lost ranks as my overrated and disappointing series. The first season caught my attention, but I drifted pretty quickly as the storylines wandered. The initial idea seemed good, but trying to squeeze more than one season seemed unrealistic. Failure to keep my attention past the first season is a clear sign of a failed show and for that reason Lost tops me list.
2. Next up is certainly going to upset one or two people fairly close to me as Gossip Girl gets my vote here. I don’t particularly find the ladies particularly attractive (that definitely will upset one or two folks) and the story lines are a bit of a joke really. It is overrated and reality is, folks watch it for the hot girls and boys, or the fashion, and it doesn’t do it for me I’m afraid.
3. As an all-time lover of Friends which should really be in my top five as I can watch that show day or night, I have to say that I was hugely disappointed with the spin off Joey. I watched it, but can’t say it particularly thrilled me and it could have been so much. Bit of a shame.
4. Maybe this should be a little closer to the top of this list but The Hills is pretty much a fine example of everything that is wrong about television these days. At the risk of sounding like an old man, it is absolute garbage.
5. Glee. No need to say much more I don’t think.
So there you have it. That is the official Bobby Rankings for tv shows. Apologies if I upset anybody, I'm just not quite at the Gleek level just yet.
1. Top of the list for me undoubtedly is Dexter. I love the books and the show is just as good. Killing is not good kids, but killing those who do genuinely bad things and get away with them? Hmmm, now there is the dilemma. The other issue is, Dexter is a charmer. A fantastic show which has to rank at the top of my list.
2. A very close second for me is The Sopranos. Absolutely quality show and one that had me completely hooked. A little brutal at times, though still possibly comes second to good old Dexter in that ranking also. Tony is another character that is kind of hard to dislike too much, despite doing some pretty shocking things.
3. Next on my list is a show which I have only seen two series of but I have been hooked – Burn Notice. This one seems to fly under the radar a little, but is fantastic nevertheless. This one is a bit of an underdog, and if you have not heard of it, this one gets my recommendation. Not as brutal as the first two, but action packed and a ridiculously cool and hot lead couple.
4. This one may not exactly increase my street cred but HJ and I are huge fans of The Good Wife. An intelligent show with some great characters .We are halfway through the second series right now and we are in the painful situation of having to wait a whole week for the next episode – the one advantage to DVD sets! We hope you have switched the DVD player on recently Mum!
5. This one is pretty much English I think and does not seem to have transferred to other countries particularly well, but Spooks is one of our all time favourites. This may be controversial, but it just nudges 24 out of my top five, which gives you a fair reflection of how good I think it is.
Honourable mentions go to The Wire, Hustle, 24, Friends, Brothers & Sisters, Grey’s Anatomy and Prison Break.
Selecting my worst and most overrated five does not seem quite so easy but I will give it a shot.
1. This may upset a fair few folks but I have to say Lost ranks as my overrated and disappointing series. The first season caught my attention, but I drifted pretty quickly as the storylines wandered. The initial idea seemed good, but trying to squeeze more than one season seemed unrealistic. Failure to keep my attention past the first season is a clear sign of a failed show and for that reason Lost tops me list.
2. Next up is certainly going to upset one or two people fairly close to me as Gossip Girl gets my vote here. I don’t particularly find the ladies particularly attractive (that definitely will upset one or two folks) and the story lines are a bit of a joke really. It is overrated and reality is, folks watch it for the hot girls and boys, or the fashion, and it doesn’t do it for me I’m afraid.
3. As an all-time lover of Friends which should really be in my top five as I can watch that show day or night, I have to say that I was hugely disappointed with the spin off Joey. I watched it, but can’t say it particularly thrilled me and it could have been so much. Bit of a shame.
4. Maybe this should be a little closer to the top of this list but The Hills is pretty much a fine example of everything that is wrong about television these days. At the risk of sounding like an old man, it is absolute garbage.
5. Glee. No need to say much more I don’t think.
So there you have it. That is the official Bobby Rankings for tv shows. Apologies if I upset anybody, I'm just not quite at the Gleek level just yet.
Monday, May 2, 2011
The Rain In Spain
It has been a while since I posted some random ramblings and after a week in Spain, it seems like the perfect time to do so. Here is what I learned…or remembered….last week.
The word drizzle does not exist in Spain. When it rains, it pours, and boy did it pour this last week. It is rare that we get time just to chill and relax – we travel plenty but usually it is fast and frenetic. Every so often, when the batteries are a little depleted, we try and get away for a good old fashioned break. When you want to relax, you want sun. Hence why we went to Sevilla. They were vicious rumours about the city being one of the hottest cities in Europe. It rained all week. Still, it was heartening to know that there was a heat wave in the UK and Switzerland was glorious.
The good old Spanish media. Real Madrid scrape a draw against Barca with ten men and the media hammer Jose Mourinho saying that it was no way for a Real team to play against any team, especially after spending hundreds of millions. Fast forward to Wednesday night and their Copa victory playing virtually the same style and Mourinho is suddenly a tactical genius. No team can live with this Barca by taking the game to them but Mourinho has got them well drilled and organised enough to compete. Kudos to Javier Clemente who was 100% correct in supporting Mourinho and the style in his Marca column – if only the rest of the paper wasn’t so blinded and fickle.
I have wanted to go to Sevilla for a number of years now so it was great to finally get there and see what the buzz is about. I can confirm that Semana Santa is not the best week to go there however. That said, wandering around with Oranges hanging from the trees every few yards was fantastic. Buying a huge box of strawberries for less than two Euros was just as pleasant. I could get used to stuff like that.
As cool as some elements were in Sevilla, there was one slightly bizarre trend. Every chap has to make the occasional crotchal rearrangement, but the number of rearrangements among the Sevillanos was extreme and slightly disconcerting….so much so that Burns and I were rolling around laughing if cringing every time we spotted it. It was common. We are not weird. Just for the record.
So we moved from Semana Santa and the rain in Sevilla to Madridand their rain midway through the week. Madrid is a pretty cool city, but I think undoubtedly our favourite place is the Mercado de San Miguel. Always full of people, but they are worth fighting through for a sandwich or two. Anybody wanting a reason to go to Madrid or planning to go soon, check it out – I am prepared to put my reputation on the line for this place. Heck, I’ll even put Burns’ on there too.
My last random thought from the week, that I can remember anyway, was from the Copa del Rey final. Having spent a fair amount of time in Barcelona, I know the sentiments that run there so I was not surprised to hear the Catalan fans boo the Spanish national anthem before the game. I was surprised though that TVE muted the sound from the stadium and isolated the anthem, while other television channels played it normally. English fans were hammered when they booed the US anthem in Vegas for the Hatton/Mayweather fight and rightly so. This is no different. Gerard Pique spiced things up after the first game by telling the Madrid players that Barca were going to win ‘their king’s cup’. I would love to be a fly on the wall in the next training camp of the Spanish national team after some of the things that have gone down between Barca and Real in the last few weeks.
The word drizzle does not exist in Spain. When it rains, it pours, and boy did it pour this last week. It is rare that we get time just to chill and relax – we travel plenty but usually it is fast and frenetic. Every so often, when the batteries are a little depleted, we try and get away for a good old fashioned break. When you want to relax, you want sun. Hence why we went to Sevilla. They were vicious rumours about the city being one of the hottest cities in Europe. It rained all week. Still, it was heartening to know that there was a heat wave in the UK and Switzerland was glorious.
The good old Spanish media. Real Madrid scrape a draw against Barca with ten men and the media hammer Jose Mourinho saying that it was no way for a Real team to play against any team, especially after spending hundreds of millions. Fast forward to Wednesday night and their Copa victory playing virtually the same style and Mourinho is suddenly a tactical genius. No team can live with this Barca by taking the game to them but Mourinho has got them well drilled and organised enough to compete. Kudos to Javier Clemente who was 100% correct in supporting Mourinho and the style in his Marca column – if only the rest of the paper wasn’t so blinded and fickle.
I have wanted to go to Sevilla for a number of years now so it was great to finally get there and see what the buzz is about. I can confirm that Semana Santa is not the best week to go there however. That said, wandering around with Oranges hanging from the trees every few yards was fantastic. Buying a huge box of strawberries for less than two Euros was just as pleasant. I could get used to stuff like that.
As cool as some elements were in Sevilla, there was one slightly bizarre trend. Every chap has to make the occasional crotchal rearrangement, but the number of rearrangements among the Sevillanos was extreme and slightly disconcerting….so much so that Burns and I were rolling around laughing if cringing every time we spotted it. It was common. We are not weird. Just for the record.
So we moved from Semana Santa and the rain in Sevilla to Madridand their rain midway through the week. Madrid is a pretty cool city, but I think undoubtedly our favourite place is the Mercado de San Miguel. Always full of people, but they are worth fighting through for a sandwich or two. Anybody wanting a reason to go to Madrid or planning to go soon, check it out – I am prepared to put my reputation on the line for this place. Heck, I’ll even put Burns’ on there too.
My last random thought from the week, that I can remember anyway, was from the Copa del Rey final. Having spent a fair amount of time in Barcelona, I know the sentiments that run there so I was not surprised to hear the Catalan fans boo the Spanish national anthem before the game. I was surprised though that TVE muted the sound from the stadium and isolated the anthem, while other television channels played it normally. English fans were hammered when they booed the US anthem in Vegas for the Hatton/Mayweather fight and rightly so. This is no different. Gerard Pique spiced things up after the first game by telling the Madrid players that Barca were going to win ‘their king’s cup’. I would love to be a fly on the wall in the next training camp of the Spanish national team after some of the things that have gone down between Barca and Real in the last few weeks.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
What's In A Name?
If you were sat at school and a classmate called you Little Pea, would you be offended? How about Semtex? Now that is a bit more like it. Nicknames were not always great fun back in my day at school and I suspect it is the same now, but there are some pretty cool nicknames in the world of sport.
Boxing and UFC are full of nicknames, and usually they are pretty darn cool. After all, whoever is coming up with the name dare not risk the wrath of the guy who will likely punch you if you say something offensive. The Haymaker, the Ice Man, Rampage and El Terrible are just some of the great nicknames knocking about right now which offer pretty fair reflections of what is likely to happen to the chap standing opposite him when the bell sounds.
There are of course some nicknames not exactly designed to strike fear into their opponents but are still cool nevertheless. I am particularly fond of Sid The Kid, The Professor, The Golden Boy, heck even Golden Balls is pretty cool. Those can be a touch misleading at times, but as with many nicknames, there are those that fall into the category of reflecting the personality or the looks of the sport star….none of which I would be too offended if I had been labelled any of those.
Another category and probably the most popular in most sports, are those that derive from the actual name of the athlete. It may bear no relevance to what they do on the pitch, rink or in the cage, but it is just a natural given their name. Manny Pacquiao’s nickname of Pacman is pretty cool and a good example of this. Visualising the game of Pacman does not really give much of a clue about what he actually does, but the guy is just cool and his nickname fits well.
Some are however not so lucky. Audley Harrison was nicknamed A-Force early in his career until several knockouts and embarrassing performances led to Fraudley and Audrey. Pretty unfortunate, but pretty accurate. Many others are just abbreviations which often come from teammates in training.
When I was a kid, we usually just added a ‘y’ on the end of a one-syllable name and that was about it. We were young and innocent in those days so there were no innuendos or anything, just plain and simple. The classroom was slightly different however and I was not always so fortunate. I often embraced my Spanish roots and surname, but it caused me no end of grief at times. The fact there was a popular Hispanic singer called Gloria with a similar surname at the time was simply a recipe for disaster. You can fill the gaps in yourself, but how I prayed for her record sales to plummet and peace and a normal nickname like Bobby would return.
Nowadays, I have a pretty solid set of names. Rob is the usual name and I get a combination of Bob, Bobby and Robby, and when I am really in trouble, I get Robert Christian. I am usually behind the couch or hiding under the table if anybody mentions that one. I have a couple of random ones – Ginger (I have no clue), Lobster and Bobinho, all of which I respond to. Nicknames are funny old things and fighting them never helped anybody. Like it or lump, most of them stick so just embrace them even if it is Bobby Estefan or Gloria.
Boxing and UFC are full of nicknames, and usually they are pretty darn cool. After all, whoever is coming up with the name dare not risk the wrath of the guy who will likely punch you if you say something offensive. The Haymaker, the Ice Man, Rampage and El Terrible are just some of the great nicknames knocking about right now which offer pretty fair reflections of what is likely to happen to the chap standing opposite him when the bell sounds.
There are of course some nicknames not exactly designed to strike fear into their opponents but are still cool nevertheless. I am particularly fond of Sid The Kid, The Professor, The Golden Boy, heck even Golden Balls is pretty cool. Those can be a touch misleading at times, but as with many nicknames, there are those that fall into the category of reflecting the personality or the looks of the sport star….none of which I would be too offended if I had been labelled any of those.
Another category and probably the most popular in most sports, are those that derive from the actual name of the athlete. It may bear no relevance to what they do on the pitch, rink or in the cage, but it is just a natural given their name. Manny Pacquiao’s nickname of Pacman is pretty cool and a good example of this. Visualising the game of Pacman does not really give much of a clue about what he actually does, but the guy is just cool and his nickname fits well.
Some are however not so lucky. Audley Harrison was nicknamed A-Force early in his career until several knockouts and embarrassing performances led to Fraudley and Audrey. Pretty unfortunate, but pretty accurate. Many others are just abbreviations which often come from teammates in training.
When I was a kid, we usually just added a ‘y’ on the end of a one-syllable name and that was about it. We were young and innocent in those days so there were no innuendos or anything, just plain and simple. The classroom was slightly different however and I was not always so fortunate. I often embraced my Spanish roots and surname, but it caused me no end of grief at times. The fact there was a popular Hispanic singer called Gloria with a similar surname at the time was simply a recipe for disaster. You can fill the gaps in yourself, but how I prayed for her record sales to plummet and peace and a normal nickname like Bobby would return.
Nowadays, I have a pretty solid set of names. Rob is the usual name and I get a combination of Bob, Bobby and Robby, and when I am really in trouble, I get Robert Christian. I am usually behind the couch or hiding under the table if anybody mentions that one. I have a couple of random ones – Ginger (I have no clue), Lobster and Bobinho, all of which I respond to. Nicknames are funny old things and fighting them never helped anybody. Like it or lump, most of them stick so just embrace them even if it is Bobby Estefan or Gloria.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Strawberry Fields
There are a number of negatives to living away from home, but the hardest and saddest thing about coming back to Leeds is forcing myself to walk past Greggs Bakery and their sausage rolls. They are immense, and anybody reading this who has yet to have one, has not lived.
Our wedding is a big motivator for me to lose weight. I was motivated last summer to do so, and I am focused on doing the same and getting in even better shape this summer. That Lockhart Boss suit has to look good. Looking in the mirror is another one. I don’t quite have that sideways view of a pregnant lady, but it could be better and after a couple of weeks training, I can see the improvements and that is a huge motivator to keep going.
Forcing myself to walk past Greggs is brutal though. Cutting out the alcohol for a few months is fine, sure I’ll treat myself occasionally, but there are some foods like these infamous sausage rolls that tempt me.
I have always enjoyed my food, but I guess unless you have those perfect genes, you have to watch what you eat more the older you get. It may be hard to believe but I was like a stick until I hit twenty years old. I would go to the gym when I was 15-16 years old and trying to lift weights, and it was so demoralising to see my little arms gain nothing. It was only when I was introduced to alcohol did I show signs of putting weight on, and then when I started cooking for myself at university did I start putting weight on. It was only a few years later did I actually learn that the ratio between the effort required for putting weight on and losing it was not equal.
Thankfully I have always liked fruit. Virtually every fruit and vegetable so that is a bonus. HJ and I have eaten a ridiculous number of mangos and strawberries in the past month. I have yet to meet somebody who has told me that they do not like strawberries….i am not even sure that person exists, but I would like to talk to them if so. Sprouts are fair enough, but strawberries? I just feel there is something clinically wrong if you do not like them.
HJ and I have committed to doing a marathon this year. The thought of that is as brutal as not eating a sausage roll from Greggs in 2011, but we will give it a shot. There are a number of fun marathons, but I’ve got my eye on Las Vegas in December – hint hint Burns. It is my birthday after all. The challenge of a marathon is huge but I am determined to do one…another motivating factor alongside the wedding to get in great shape. Then, I’ll fly back to the UK, buy 4 sausage rolls for £2 and fly back to wherever we are living.
Our wedding is a big motivator for me to lose weight. I was motivated last summer to do so, and I am focused on doing the same and getting in even better shape this summer. That Lockhart Boss suit has to look good. Looking in the mirror is another one. I don’t quite have that sideways view of a pregnant lady, but it could be better and after a couple of weeks training, I can see the improvements and that is a huge motivator to keep going.
Forcing myself to walk past Greggs is brutal though. Cutting out the alcohol for a few months is fine, sure I’ll treat myself occasionally, but there are some foods like these infamous sausage rolls that tempt me.
I have always enjoyed my food, but I guess unless you have those perfect genes, you have to watch what you eat more the older you get. It may be hard to believe but I was like a stick until I hit twenty years old. I would go to the gym when I was 15-16 years old and trying to lift weights, and it was so demoralising to see my little arms gain nothing. It was only when I was introduced to alcohol did I show signs of putting weight on, and then when I started cooking for myself at university did I start putting weight on. It was only a few years later did I actually learn that the ratio between the effort required for putting weight on and losing it was not equal.
Thankfully I have always liked fruit. Virtually every fruit and vegetable so that is a bonus. HJ and I have eaten a ridiculous number of mangos and strawberries in the past month. I have yet to meet somebody who has told me that they do not like strawberries….i am not even sure that person exists, but I would like to talk to them if so. Sprouts are fair enough, but strawberries? I just feel there is something clinically wrong if you do not like them.
HJ and I have committed to doing a marathon this year. The thought of that is as brutal as not eating a sausage roll from Greggs in 2011, but we will give it a shot. There are a number of fun marathons, but I’ve got my eye on Las Vegas in December – hint hint Burns. It is my birthday after all. The challenge of a marathon is huge but I am determined to do one…another motivating factor alongside the wedding to get in great shape. Then, I’ll fly back to the UK, buy 4 sausage rolls for £2 and fly back to wherever we are living.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Concussive Questions
Many people would say that I need some sense knocking in to me at times, and I have been feeling recently as if I have actually had something knocked into me, albeit the traces of sense are thin on the ground. Whether it was the ice skating incident or some other random thing, I’ve had concussion-like symptoms the last week to ten days and it is not pleasant.
I had concussion once before when I was about 20 years old. I was working at UPS sorting mail during the university summer break and we played football at lunchtime. I collided with a guy and smashed the back of my head on the grass, and I was left seeing double for several days afterwards. It has been similar this time around but over a longer period of time. Whether it is a concussion I am not sure, but it coincides with another similarly talented hockey player suffering from concussion right now.
Sidney Crosby has been out of action for something like thirty games due to a concussion and that has to be pretty worrying for everybody concerned. First and foremost, it must be a major concern to him and his family. Secondly, he is a massive loss to the Penguins. And in the bigger picture, the NHL must have serious concerns about it. The calls for greater protection for players have increased over the years, but I cannot help but feel that it will take such an injury to a major star like Crosby to force their hands.
I read a fascinating story about the NFL and the potential lockout. It supported the players and their demands for greater support and protection from the league. Life expectancy among the players is ridiculously low with so many early deaths coming from long term damage to the brain. Drugs are another issue but let’s focus on the innocent stuff. A former hockey player also recently died in his forties with similar issues – the kind of head injuries found in former boxers.
It got me randomly thinking. Would you do the thing you love and adore for big money but risking that you may live for 15-20 years less than average? Tough tough question and I do not know how I would answer that. It does not have to be NFL or Hockey, it could be any sport or job with the big money and the low life expectancy. If I could be an Everton legend for twenty years, earning big money, but the likelihood of that activity resulting in me corking it a good twenty years earlier, would I do it? That is a tough call and I do not know.
So many folks go to work every day being pretty unhappy and not looking forward to what they do. The first thought when you get to the office is what you are going to do tonight, and that feeling on a Monday morning when the weekend seems oh so far away is brutal. Would you swap it for big money and doing something you love, but with the serious health risks that go with it?
I had concussion once before when I was about 20 years old. I was working at UPS sorting mail during the university summer break and we played football at lunchtime. I collided with a guy and smashed the back of my head on the grass, and I was left seeing double for several days afterwards. It has been similar this time around but over a longer period of time. Whether it is a concussion I am not sure, but it coincides with another similarly talented hockey player suffering from concussion right now.
Sidney Crosby has been out of action for something like thirty games due to a concussion and that has to be pretty worrying for everybody concerned. First and foremost, it must be a major concern to him and his family. Secondly, he is a massive loss to the Penguins. And in the bigger picture, the NHL must have serious concerns about it. The calls for greater protection for players have increased over the years, but I cannot help but feel that it will take such an injury to a major star like Crosby to force their hands.
I read a fascinating story about the NFL and the potential lockout. It supported the players and their demands for greater support and protection from the league. Life expectancy among the players is ridiculously low with so many early deaths coming from long term damage to the brain. Drugs are another issue but let’s focus on the innocent stuff. A former hockey player also recently died in his forties with similar issues – the kind of head injuries found in former boxers.
It got me randomly thinking. Would you do the thing you love and adore for big money but risking that you may live for 15-20 years less than average? Tough tough question and I do not know how I would answer that. It does not have to be NFL or Hockey, it could be any sport or job with the big money and the low life expectancy. If I could be an Everton legend for twenty years, earning big money, but the likelihood of that activity resulting in me corking it a good twenty years earlier, would I do it? That is a tough call and I do not know.
So many folks go to work every day being pretty unhappy and not looking forward to what they do. The first thought when you get to the office is what you are going to do tonight, and that feeling on a Monday morning when the weekend seems oh so far away is brutal. Would you swap it for big money and doing something you love, but with the serious health risks that go with it?
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
A Bug's Life
This week I seem to have had more random thoughts then ever. There’s no particular reason for it, it just happens I guess. Anyhow…I’m going to share them, so here goes.
Receiving a personal letter or card in the post is an amazing feeling. They are so rare these days, you know that when you do get one, somebody has taken time, care and effort out of their day to post that little treat for you. We have received a couple recently and it made our day, and it is something we should do more often. Unfortunately, most of the mail we receive these days are bills. I guess that is what happens when you grow up.
Weddings are expensive. I cannot deny that. It has crossed my mind more than once to change the industry I work in based on that alone. Making decisions on colours, styles, and meals is not easy at all. I am actually enjoying it though and while this may be the most daft and naïve comment I have ever made, I do not think it will be too difficult to organise. Don’t get me wrong, I know there is plenty of work to be done, but I’m just excited and enjoying it so far. We’re still waiting for some major hiccup, but we’ll deal with it and move on!
I have decided that the only reason people mock my musical taste is because they are envious – it is the only conclusion I can reach given how common it is discussed here in Lausanne and potential further afield.
Coming from a recent trip to Ikea, I have to admit that I cannot think of a similar kind of store where you can, spend time and money, and come home wondering why you ever picked up that piece of junk in the first place. It’s not expensive so you think you have a bargain, but it is never going to work in your home. There is probably 95% of the stuff they sell that I do not really like, but my blue Ikea bag seems to be full every time. They must be doing something right.
Speaking of Ikea and all things household, I can recall my mum saying to me when I was at university that I would have to get a good job just to pay for all the builders, plumbers, plasterers, electricians to come and do work in my home when I eventually got my own place....so useless was I at anything DIY. Well mum, times are changing….I’ve been doing all kinds of DIY things recently and I’ll show you when you come to visit. Just don’t touch any sockets, or anything electrical for that matter.
I was contacted this week by a journalist from the Wall Street Journal – I posted the article on my wall. It was an interesting read having been part of both the betting industry and Brentford myself. I did not actually speak to the lady, but I thought it was well written. I do have a hard time trusting some journalists and I would have refused to speak about the matter regardless. That said, I thought the article was well written by Hannah Karp and I suspect that would not have been the case if it had been a story in England where a huge slant would have been put on it no doubt.
Receiving a personal letter or card in the post is an amazing feeling. They are so rare these days, you know that when you do get one, somebody has taken time, care and effort out of their day to post that little treat for you. We have received a couple recently and it made our day, and it is something we should do more often. Unfortunately, most of the mail we receive these days are bills. I guess that is what happens when you grow up.
Weddings are expensive. I cannot deny that. It has crossed my mind more than once to change the industry I work in based on that alone. Making decisions on colours, styles, and meals is not easy at all. I am actually enjoying it though and while this may be the most daft and naïve comment I have ever made, I do not think it will be too difficult to organise. Don’t get me wrong, I know there is plenty of work to be done, but I’m just excited and enjoying it so far. We’re still waiting for some major hiccup, but we’ll deal with it and move on!
I have decided that the only reason people mock my musical taste is because they are envious – it is the only conclusion I can reach given how common it is discussed here in Lausanne and potential further afield.
Coming from a recent trip to Ikea, I have to admit that I cannot think of a similar kind of store where you can, spend time and money, and come home wondering why you ever picked up that piece of junk in the first place. It’s not expensive so you think you have a bargain, but it is never going to work in your home. There is probably 95% of the stuff they sell that I do not really like, but my blue Ikea bag seems to be full every time. They must be doing something right.
Speaking of Ikea and all things household, I can recall my mum saying to me when I was at university that I would have to get a good job just to pay for all the builders, plumbers, plasterers, electricians to come and do work in my home when I eventually got my own place....so useless was I at anything DIY. Well mum, times are changing….I’ve been doing all kinds of DIY things recently and I’ll show you when you come to visit. Just don’t touch any sockets, or anything electrical for that matter.
I was contacted this week by a journalist from the Wall Street Journal – I posted the article on my wall. It was an interesting read having been part of both the betting industry and Brentford myself. I did not actually speak to the lady, but I thought it was well written. I do have a hard time trusting some journalists and I would have refused to speak about the matter regardless. That said, I thought the article was well written by Hannah Karp and I suspect that would not have been the case if it had been a story in England where a huge slant would have been put on it no doubt.
Monday, March 7, 2011
La Vida Loca
My favourite fiancée and I were in Madrid this last weekend. We spent some time with a couple of great friends of ours, Megha and Erika, and while it was far too short, it still ranks as a great weekend with some good fun, good food, good weather and some great company. I will not ramble on too much about Madrid, as you can read all about it in this lady’s great blog (we want more Burns!).
However, I will share my random ramblings and thoughts on good old Spain. I spent my year abroad at University in Barcelona. My decision on choosing a university came down to the same criteria I used when selecting Liverpool Uni for my degree – somewhere I could watch a decent football team (no jokes!), somewhere I could have fun, and somewhere I could travel to Leeds easy enough if I wanted or needed to. I narrowed it to Barcelona or Madrid, and I was accepted at Barcelona Uni.
It was a great year. Plenty of ups and downs, but I thoroughly enjoyed the year. By the end of the year, my Spanish had developed well despite a virtually entire group of ex-pat friends. What’s new? I guess it makes most sense that we make friends easier with fellow foreigners who are share similar experiences to ourselves, and I am no different.
I came away from Barcelona at the end of 2001 wondering if I could live and work in Spain. I had one year left of university and I was ready to plunge into the world of real work and life. I had the same doubts as I have now to be honest, and our weekend in Madrid emphasised that more than ever. I love the thought of the lifestyle – generally quite relaxed, good weather, working hours that suit my style and a strong social and family ethic. Opportunities in sport and salaries even more so are pretty major negatives however. I also wonder whether the lifestyle would be counter productive to me professionally – I can see myself lacking motivation and drive with such great distractions. That is not to say that I want us to live in a miserable or boring place, we would go to Edmonton (so I am told!) if that was the case, but I feel that I may well struggle in a number of Spanish cities. That said, both HJ and I have considered a short spell in Barcelona again – you never know!
Spain is a charming place and having been there so many times for family reasons, it will always have a place in my heart. Many of the people lack manners and the customer service is not great, but for some reason, it never bothers me like it does here in Switzerland as they seem to have a certain charm at the same time. We had a comedy taxi driver this last weekend – he was smoking, while being on the phone three times in a 15 minute journey, and was chatting away to us. A total character.
I recall a particular Spanish-ism from my days back in Barcelona and I was reminded of it this weekend gone when I stumbled across a shop called a ‘Guitarreria’. No prizes for guessing what they sold there. It is common in Spain that they add ‘eria’ to a noun and it basically means a shop for whatever precedes it….cafeteria, pizzeria etc. It took me back to my Barca days when I childishly chuckled to myself every time I walked past the Ferreteria. I glanced in the window every day searching for a little Ferret to be sat in the window only to be disappointed with it actually being a hardware store.
There are still plenty of places in Spain we have yet to visit. Everybody I speak to raves about Granada and Seville to name a couple, and my lady has plenty of good stuff to tell me about San Sebastien. Annual or twice-yearly trips to Barcelona are a given, as is a return to Mallorca where I have not been for years, but there are plenty of gems in Spain that we have yet to see. It’s just a matter of time.
However, I will share my random ramblings and thoughts on good old Spain. I spent my year abroad at University in Barcelona. My decision on choosing a university came down to the same criteria I used when selecting Liverpool Uni for my degree – somewhere I could watch a decent football team (no jokes!), somewhere I could have fun, and somewhere I could travel to Leeds easy enough if I wanted or needed to. I narrowed it to Barcelona or Madrid, and I was accepted at Barcelona Uni.
It was a great year. Plenty of ups and downs, but I thoroughly enjoyed the year. By the end of the year, my Spanish had developed well despite a virtually entire group of ex-pat friends. What’s new? I guess it makes most sense that we make friends easier with fellow foreigners who are share similar experiences to ourselves, and I am no different.
I came away from Barcelona at the end of 2001 wondering if I could live and work in Spain. I had one year left of university and I was ready to plunge into the world of real work and life. I had the same doubts as I have now to be honest, and our weekend in Madrid emphasised that more than ever. I love the thought of the lifestyle – generally quite relaxed, good weather, working hours that suit my style and a strong social and family ethic. Opportunities in sport and salaries even more so are pretty major negatives however. I also wonder whether the lifestyle would be counter productive to me professionally – I can see myself lacking motivation and drive with such great distractions. That is not to say that I want us to live in a miserable or boring place, we would go to Edmonton (so I am told!) if that was the case, but I feel that I may well struggle in a number of Spanish cities. That said, both HJ and I have considered a short spell in Barcelona again – you never know!
Spain is a charming place and having been there so many times for family reasons, it will always have a place in my heart. Many of the people lack manners and the customer service is not great, but for some reason, it never bothers me like it does here in Switzerland as they seem to have a certain charm at the same time. We had a comedy taxi driver this last weekend – he was smoking, while being on the phone three times in a 15 minute journey, and was chatting away to us. A total character.
I recall a particular Spanish-ism from my days back in Barcelona and I was reminded of it this weekend gone when I stumbled across a shop called a ‘Guitarreria’. No prizes for guessing what they sold there. It is common in Spain that they add ‘eria’ to a noun and it basically means a shop for whatever precedes it….cafeteria, pizzeria etc. It took me back to my Barca days when I childishly chuckled to myself every time I walked past the Ferreteria. I glanced in the window every day searching for a little Ferret to be sat in the window only to be disappointed with it actually being a hardware store.
There are still plenty of places in Spain we have yet to visit. Everybody I speak to raves about Granada and Seville to name a couple, and my lady has plenty of good stuff to tell me about San Sebastien. Annual or twice-yearly trips to Barcelona are a given, as is a return to Mallorca where I have not been for years, but there are plenty of gems in Spain that we have yet to see. It’s just a matter of time.
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