Jumped Ship

Fans (?) of Words. Sentences. Stuff. should be advised that it can now be found at http://www.gavinbroom.co.uk

Now that I'm £3.79 down on this deal, look forward to me losing interest in this blogging game any day .... now.

Les Jeux (Olympique) Sans Frontieres

All it needed was Stuart Hall, oversized novelty costumes and jars of coloured liquid and the Olympic Torch relay through London wouldn't have looked out of place in a 1970s TV schedule.

As it was, we had the likes of Konnie Huq, Steve Redgrave and the shiniest legs in showbiz -- Denise Van Outen -- ignoring their better judgment and jogging through a war zone with a big cigarette lighter.

And of course, the usual argument was brought out. You shouldn't mix sport or the Olympics with politics. Except, historically the Olympics have been so mixed up with politics it's become hard to tell the difference. Over the years, boycotts have been as common as Adam's apples in a East European women's weightlifting team.

In fact, the earliest detailed record I have to hand, Asterix At The Olympic Games, is littered with politics. In order to compete, the Gauls have to register themselves as Romans and they're threatened with a ban when their Magic Potion is deemed to be an forerunner of THG. Sadly, Asterix At The Tour De France was canned for covering similar ground and has never been released.

So if it's been going on since 50 BC, why we're suddenly not allowed to have a conscious about it is a little baffling.

Ah, but we're told that we -- the West -- aren't exactly whiter than white when it comes to Human Rights violations. People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, said the carefully placed Chinese students yesterday. Does this mean, then, that because our own government have their mitts in some unsavoury cookie jars, we should ignore others that do the same?

Trust me, if the 2012 Olympics had gone to Guantanemo Bay, I'd have the same reservations and might have found myself standing at a crash barrier with a soda syphon in my hand and Stuart Hall's voice in my head.

Didn't We Have A Luvverly Time ... Cowdenbeath

I love away days watching Alloa Athletic and the fact that I don't go to as many as I'd like means that I tend to appreciate the ones I manage to haul my arse along to.

Cowdenbeath is one of the easier trips -- twenty miles and a forty minute drive away -- so today was my third trip to Central Park in the kingdom of Fife.

Alloa went into the match in fourth place, which would see us through to the promotion play-offs while Cowden were at the arse end of the table, languishing comfortably in the relegation play-off spot.

I should say at this point that while there's a lot of badmouthing of the play-offs, mainly due to the fact that out of the 10 teams in the league, only four find themselves at the end of the season with nothing to play for, I rather like the excitement and even though we're well off the pace this year, there's still a slim chance we could go up.

Strange, then that both teams seemed to be treating the game as a mid-table, end of season encounter and the game itself was frequently beaten for excitement by the weather. It started sunny. Got cloudy. Started to rain. Which changed to sleet. Which decided to chill a little further into snow. And it finished sunny. The game was 1-1, and Cowden can probably consider themselves mugged. Makes a change.

But the highlight of the day was that myself and my mate Jude were treated to some Cowdenbeath hospitality, both pre and post match.

Jude, the main blur in the image as he heads to or from the Gents, works with one of Cowden's youth coaches who got us into the ground and at the bar for 1pm where we enjoyed lager, crisps and the Arsenal - Liverpool match.

At half-time, a wee cup of tea and some sandwiches were on offer and we were able to hob nob with the Alloa injury list. Dougie Wilson, our midfield maestro, revealed that he hopes to be back next week. Hoorah!

And at full time, more beer and halfs and a tin of Baa Bru for the driver and some chat with a few guys who turned out to be on the board of Bo'ness Juniors. And not a penny was spent. Except at the Gents. Several times.

All in all, a fantastic afternoon out and thanks to Jude's mate Jim for being a top fella.

Moan The Wasps.

The Most Deluded Person In Britain?

Up until this afternoon, I didn't have much of an opinion of Kerry Katona. I mean, the Iceland adverts depress me and I was never much of an Atomic Kitten fan but she was inoffensive.

However, on a desk at work, I spied her on the front cover of OK! magazine, along with the headline, "I'm the most hated person in Britain."

Really?

I didn't pick up the mag to find out more (although the fact that it claims to be three mags in one, was intriguing -- a veritable Russian Doll of a celeb mag), but as I went about my day, my mind kept coming back to it. How, I wondered, and when had she become the most hated person in Britain? What she had done to secure this position? Why had no one told me about this earlier?

I've managed to come up with the following Top Ten Factoids about Ms Katona:

1. She used to be in Atomic Kitten.
2. She used to be married to some bloke out of Westlife. Brian Something.
3. She used to be on I'm A Celebrity. And she won. Good for her.
4. She shops at Iceland or, at the very least, is comfortable endorsing their produce.
   
5. According to Amnesty International, she's allows -- positively encourages, some would say -- free press and isn't a violator of Human Rights.
6. Her views on Tibet aren't widely known, but can be assumed to be moderate.
7. She's not involved in illegal whaling or badger baiting.
8. She has lots of children. Like, millions of them, but ironically, she doesn't get on with her own mum.
   
9. Em ... she used to be in Atomic Kitten.
10. Did I mention that doofus from Westlife?
    

So, I'm left wondering how she's the Most Hated Person In Britain as try as I might, I can only muster ambivalence towards her. I'm also left wondering if this is what it's come to -- that someone who used to be famous has to invent stories about themselves to ensure the country doesn't do something even worse that hating them ... forgetting they ever existed.

Glad I Didn't Hear About This Yesterday

Turns out one of my short stories, Fall Down, has been nominated for StorySouth's Million Writers Award by the good people at Bound Off.

As the name of the award suggests, there are one or two other people nominated so chances of picking up the $300 first prize are probably quite slim -- gable end of a crisp slim. Still, it's nice to be nominated and I'll be using the next few weeks to perfect my magnanimous applause when the winner's eventually announced.

Bound Off is a podcast publication so you can download an mp3 of me reading out the story, dodgy accent and all, from the site or iTunes.

Ha-ha! April Fools!

Apropos of nothing calendar related, my favourite pick from the Schott's April Fool Almanac in Times 2 today has to be this gem:

The Iraqi newspaper, Babel, run by Saddam Hussain's son, Uday, became notorious for running April Fool's Day "jokes" taunting its readers. In 1998, the paper quoted President Bill Clinton as saying sanctions were soon to be lifted.

One can only imagine the fate of the April 2, 1998 edition of Babel when the jape was revealed, but I bet it wasn't soft, strong or particularly long.