Blatter Splatter!!

So the slippery head of world football has once again survived yet another fiasco. At an age where all but the upper echelons of the judiciary have been put out to grass the gaff -prone President of FIFA manages to cling on to power with a limpet-like grasp. This time the septuagenarian supremo has proclaimed that any racist exchanges between players during the heat of the moment should be resolved by a handshake after the game. Perhaps Zinedin Zidane was trying to shake Marco Matarazzi's hand when he was sent off during the 2006 World Cup final. (I guess Mr. Blatter would have adopted the 'Wenger' stance on such issues and claimed he never saw the incident).

You cannot run a campaign to stamp out racism in football and at the same time condone racist comments or behaviour on the pitch.

In many respects the beautiful game is flourishing – the standard has improved, the appeal has broadened and the interest been exported around the world. In other aspects the game is still living in the dark ages and an overhaul is long overdue.

Historically football has always been considered a working man's game a fact that for decades was exploited by wealthy entrepreneurs who recognised the opportunities to cash in on large crowds and the talents of players who were by and large abused and underpaid.

The top players now may be able to command huge payments for their activities both on and off the field, which is very different from being told when and where to play, fit or not, and with little consideration of any future beyond the game. When you consider that a premier league player can earn more for switching on the Christmas lights than one of the 1966 squad received for winning the World Cup it shows just how far the game has come.

I was 8 when we won the World Cup and grew up in awe of talents such as Best, Charlton, Pele, Moore, Beckenbauer, Platini and Cruyff. Maybe I have a simplistic view of life but playground conversations focused on the footballing skills of the aforementioned individuals not what they were getting up to off the pitch. Teams had 2 strips, the second only being worn if there was a colour clash with the opposition. Nowadays it would seem that the club changes it strip every other week. How long is it before we have one set of colours for when the sun shines and one for when it is raining? I don't recall the ruthless exploitation of the supporters that there is these days – ticket prices, travel costs, programmes, refreshments and merchandising of everything from calendars to toilet roll holders.

TV rights have fueled the growth of the sport and made it available to a much wider audience but you really have to wonder how the bedrock of the game, the ardent supporter ever manages to fund their passion.

What I find so hard to accept about the modern game is the cavalier way that it is being administered. The game may have come a long way but the authorities that run it still treat it as a gentleman's club for the extremely wealthy.

When you consider the revenue that the game generates is greater than the gross national output of many countries is it right that the controlling committee consists of a group of old men who can hardly claim to be democratically elected?

The Football Association in England doesn't fare any better with a large contingent whose credibility as business leaders would not pass muster in any other industry. In the 2009/10 season the premier league clubs tabled a net loss of over 0.5 billion pounds and last week Manchester City announced annual losses of just under 200 million pounds. Which other organisation could exist in such circumstances.

In this era of political awareness and accountability FIFA, UEFA and the FA stand proud, like festering sores, refusing all requests for greater transparency.

When allegations of bribery and corruption were levelled against some committee members in relation to the awarding of the 2022 World Cup to Qatar last year, several of those implicated were allowed to walk away, their reputations intact, exempting themselves from any investigation.

Cometh the time for the election of the FIFA president, the only realistic alternative for the post, Mohamed bin Hammam, was forced to withdraw due to his involvement in the Qatar bribery allegations, leaving Sepp Blatter to be re-elected unopposed. In any other walk of life allegations of serious financial irregularities would be rigorously pursued and matters would not simply be brushed under the carpet to save the blushes of the organisation.

Last month several of the footballing unions made representation to FIFA requesting that the national teams be allowed to have poppies embroidered on their shirts for the international games scheduled in and around Armistice day. FIFA refused this request on grounds that this simple act of remembrance was considered to be a political endorsement. Eventually they did concede to allowing players to wear black armbands with a poppy motif, but only after the intervention of political and religious leaders from several of the countries involved.

It is a close run race between the Swiss supremo and fun-loving Italian gaffe-maester, Silvio Berlusconi, to see who can utter the most outrageous quote. In a world dominated by sound-bites these 2 pensioners can usually be relied on for a cringeworthy comment. History will record Sepp Blatter's views on slavery (a reference to Cristiano Ronaldo's transfer from Manchester United), fidelity (suggesting John Terry's infidelity would have been applauded if it had happened in any other country than the UK) and homosexuality (a comment about Qatar – where it is illegal and also that gay players should not fear 'coming out'). In January 2004 he, the former president of the World Society of Friends of Suspenders – a campaign against women swapping their suspender belts for pantyhose – famously quipped that the female game would be greatly improved if the players wore tighter shorts.

The only organisation that I can think of that wields so much power over so wide an area with such secrecy and so much disdain for public scrutiny is the Mafia and I would not recommend that as a business model.

The European Championship in Poland and Ukraine next year has the potential for problems with racism on the rise in Poland and accommodation and transport issues in the Ukraine. The World Cup then follows in Brazil (2014) and Russia (2018); these were brave choices aimed at spreading the influence of the game in those regions though each presents their own difficulties that need to be addressed. The situation will require a lot of help and guidance from the top and it does not fill me with any confidence that the people at the top in football are behaving in such a shoddy manner.

There are too many factions working on their own agendas, Africa, America, Europe the Far East all looking to further their cause. How long has it taken for FIFA to recognise the issue of goal-line technology? Years. And are they any closer to resolving that issue? No. Has anything been done to ease fixture congestion? No. Presiding over such a powerful organisation requires a strong individual with their finger firmly on the pulse, it is not a job for 75 year-old man. Thanks for your effort, Sepp, now go polish your cuckoo clock, step aside and let a younger man implement the reforms needed to give the game back its credibility.

Doorstep Demons

Maybe it is the time of year, the weather, the changing seasons or the proximity of Christmas, whatever the reason it seems to me that the first fall of leaves from the trees is the signal for every enterprising trader and do-gooder to crawl out from the long grass and come knocking around the neighbourhood. The fact that alternate street lamps carry a notice forbidding the practice of cold calling is a sad testament to the standard of literacy in the area.

Working from home I tend to lock myself away in the attic so have generally worked up a heady stream of invective by the time I have walked down stairs to be greeted by someone with a moronic grin who immediately launches into a diatribe of scripted inanities that would make a daytime TV presenter blush.

To what extent I will allow them to continue is often determined by their purpose and their demeanour. Meter readers generally get an affable response while survey teams, satellite TV salesmen and persons hell bent on persuading me to change my utility provider normally receive sharp shrift. I usually allow double glazing salesmen the opportunity of trotting out their rehearsed pitch simply because I feel it must be a terrible affliction that they live with that prevents them from recognising that my property already has perfectly adequate double glazing.

What has particularly attracted my ire just now is the increasing number of do gooders, cranks and tree-huggers who simply turn up on the doorstep unannounced at all hours of the day and night. It has been well documented that people will turn to all kinds of organisations and support groups at times of turmoil and unrest so it perhaps understandable that all and sundry are using this opportunity to peddle their own brand of salvation.

It amused me when a pair of very respectable pensioners recently pitched up on my doorstep mid afternoon and asked me “Are you concerned about the economic downturn..... if so, Jesus Christ can help you.” My recollection of bible classes is particularly shaky for I can't recall reading anywhere that Jesus was a banker and even though most of those involved in financial services may think of themselves as Jesus Christ recent performance has rather disproved that possibility. If I am not mistaken was there not some edict of “Seeketh the Lord and ye shall find”? That being the case then surely the onus is on the individual to seek out the Lord or whoever they deem most capable of providing the salvation they crave. Doubtless there will be those who would point to other edicts such as “go forth and multiply”, which by pure coincidence pretty much paraphrases my stock response. However, I don't think that cold calling was quite the intention behind this idea.

I have yet to receive a call from the local Jedi or Satanist representative but can assure them of the same curt greeting that I would any other unwelcome visitor.

The global economy is in a mess and millions of people are worried about their present and future prospects. If seeking support from like-minded individuals helps them cope with the situation then good luck to them but it seems wrong to me that so many organisations are utilising this period of uncertainty as a recruiting drive to bolster their numbers.

In the words of the late Dave Allen, “Whatever your religion and wherever you are, may your God go with you.”

Autumn v Indian Summer

Hell for Betsy! Its October already – the weather was better than we have had all Summer at the start of the month – 90 degrees in most of the UK while parts of Scotland and Northern Ireland barely scraped into double figures, what can possibly dent the spirits? Oh yes, its Strictly v XFactor yet again. At least we don’t have Big Brother any more – Oh; yes we do – its just moved to Channel 5. If there was ever a good reason to move to the remotest parts of the UK (where signals are sporadic) that alone would be it. It says much for the state of the media sector that we are still being subjected to these stalwarts which have surely passed their best before date, if not their sell by date.

I understand that the change for Big Brother from Channel 4 to Channel 5 was marked by a Celebrity edition featuring such well known luminaries as Jedward, Kerry Katona and Sally Bercow. Thankfully I was on holiday and missed the entire series, for which I was eternally thankful. Not that I have ever paid much attention to the programme, the very concept of which I find a complete turn off. Unfortunately, one of the key motivations behind these programmes is the selling of newspapers, so it is hardly surprising that the antics of some of the house guests are geared towards creating column inches, whether it be good or bad news.

Just when you think that Channel 5 have scraped the bottom of the barrel of Z-listers and wannabes so Strictly and XFactor come up with another crop of lame ducks to disgrace our screens for the next 3 months. I feel certain that the Oxford English Dictionary has a specific definition for the word ‘Celebrity’ however it would appear that each year TV executives are forced to creatively expand on this moniker as they struggle to find applicants willing to subject themselves to the ritual humiliation. There will always be a steady supply of bimbos who’s breast size is larger than their IQ but having sunk to the level of including the wife of the serving Speaker of the House of Commons and a flamboyant Australian Paparazzi photographer you really have to wonder how long it is before we get to meet the grandson of an extra who once appeared in 3 episodes of Crossroads.

As for XFactor, it would appear that it is no longer sufficient for you to be devoid of talent but you need a good cause to be in with a chance of making the final 12 acts. Having struggled to come to terms with the Halitosis that has blighted you since birth or working as a volunteer 7 days a week at a donkey sanctuary more than makes up for the fact that you are tone deaf and have the charisma of a lettuce leaf.

At least with Strictly the producers hedge their bets by ensuring that they can fall back on the professional dancers and the costumes to give the show some sparkle. The pretence of setting up a pensioner TV presenter against a retired sports star half their age seems a far-fetched concept but I feel sure that there are numerous contestants who will view this opportunity as a lucrative alternative to the pantomime circuit.

Probably the strangest of this year’s offerings is Channel 5’s ‘The Bachelor’. The concept of this programme is that eligible bachelor, Gavin Henson, has to ‘road test’ a bevy of 25 potential suitors in a quest to find true love amid a selection of exotic locations. Why couldn’t he simply use eHarmony like any normal person? I have a healthy respect for the Tangoed Welshman’s exploits on the rugby pitch but personally, I can’t see why anyone would wish to share their personal life with the viewing public. He clearly does not need the money and is more than capable of generating his own publicity both on and off the pitch so unless he has an ego the size of Wales (which I have never seen anything to suggest he has) I can’t for the life of me see what on earth convinced him that this was a good project to be associated with. If he were that egocentric then it poses a serious question about the type of girl who would wish to date such a guy.

Fundamentally, apart from Gavin Henson’s mum and friends and family of the potential suitors I do not see the attraction of this programme to a wider audience. Given that the programmes format requires the elimination of a contestant at the end of each programme this would seem to indicate that the audience could be down to the hundreds come the final stages. Unlike many of the other reality TV shows there is no audience participation. Perhaps the show would have more appeal if it was left to the viewing public to choose which contestants to eliminate (A bit harsh on Mr. Henson but then that’s showbiz).

Having only watched snippets from a few of the shows I can’t see how the programme has been structured or how the suspense can be maintained. 25 seems an odd number of contestants to start with. Only in America, it seems, do TV schedules run for 26 weeks and I can’t somehow see that the budget would stretch to a 26 week run with a weekly eviction. Allowing for 2 or 3 evictions each episode would reduce the length of the run but there is still a significant amount of airtime to fill and I am not sure that Gavin or the girls have the personality to sustain anyone’s interest for 3 months. In order to compete with the big boys for the headlines in the run up to Christmas my thoughts are that Channel 5 will pull a flanker, either (a) Gavin will mince off into the sunset with the cameraman or (b) He will have a change of heart and opt for a menage-a-trois or (c) the final contestants will have to mud-wrestle in order to win their man.

TV company bosses have proved in the past that they are reluctant to take a chance on new programme formats, or presenters, in times when budgets are under severe pressure so there is a strong possibility that we will still be sitting down to watch the same old shows for several years to come. With Ant and Dec’s batteries on charge until the New Year it almost makes you wish the BBC would let Andrew Lloyd-Webber lose on our screens again.

Head for the Hills!! It’s party conference season again.

As if this year has not been bad enough for  politicians we now come to the highlight of any politicians year, their annual party jamboree. A time when senior members can strut around like peacocks, junior members can jockey for position and everyone can bathe in the warmth of a mutual admiration society.

For the duration of the party season expense fiascos and the cut and thrust of daily life at Westminster can be consigned to the back-burner as the parties take it in turns to bask in the limelight for the duration of their conference.

Whilst most of the population view this year’s shindigs with the same indifference that they have done in previous years there is always the gratifying thought that due to the time difference at least the speeches do not clash with the live coverage of the Rugby World Cup.

There is something very disconcerting in the way that most politicians claim that they viewed entering politics as a public duty when the greater majority of the electorate are of the opinion that they are self-serving egomaniacs.

It has to be said that I have sat through some pretty dire lectures and sales presentations in my time but nothing would ever persuade me to attend even one session of a party conference for any political organisation. I take my hat off to the anoraks of the party faithful who dutifully turn up year after year to listen to the same old balderdash churned out by the delegates.

If I was to make an appearance at one of these junkets then it would only be to watch the squirrels in the suits struggling to come up with a meaningful sound-bite in a climate of global doom and gloom and at a time when all the parties seem to be cast from the same mold of blandness.

There is part of me that concedes that the more the world changes the more it remains the same. As a nation we seem to wander from one disaster to another with the occasional highs and lows dotted along the way. It doesn’t seem to matter who is running the country at the time, life goes on and we all have to deal with the consequences.

You would hope with the global economy in such turmoil that there would be someone who could stand up and at least give the impression that they know what they are talking about. A statesman prepared to grasp the nettle and inspire people in the way that very few politicians can.

Looking around the world I don’t see too many great orators or leaders. Recent meetings of the G20 look more like a SAGA coach trip than a coming together of the most powerful people on this planet.

The class of 2011 does not cut an inspiring picture (some even found the task of behaving in an appropriate manner at a photo shoot beyond them). Angela Merkel cuts a lone figure as a matron tasked with controlling an unruly bunch of odd-ball patients. The diminutive Sarkozy seems happy in his role as glove puppet while Berlusconi endeavours to live up to his reputation as an Italian Stallion, Putin maintains his stance as the stereotypical KGB thug and Obama thanks the Lord for giving him a crack in his backside so that he can sit more comfortably on the fence.  

    

On the smaller stage our political rallies are a cross between a scout’s jamboree and a celebrity book signing. In the future do you think that the next generation of political leaders will refer to David Blunkett, Alastair Darling and John Prescott’s biographies for inspiration – I suspect not.

There seems to be a dearth of characters with any gravitas in politics at present. Maybe the situation has been exacerbated by the well publicised drive by all the parties to attract more women into politics. Long overdue as this may be it is incredibly difficult for a woman to strike the right tone to make an impact on the political scene. Few possess the strident and forceful presence of a Thatcher, Mowlam, Widdicombe or Clinton. 

Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of male MPs who come across as impotent as the poor guy who has to open the doors on the first day of the Harrods sale.

One gets used to watching embarrassed ministers struggle to explain yet another set of appalling performance figures. Perhaps it is just me but I nearly always find the argument less convincing when it is a woman trying to justify the government’s position.

Why this should be eludes me. The impression I get is that women generally do the lion’s share of the talking in life (or is that the embittered husband in me). There are plenty of intelligent women who are more than capable of delivering a strong and effective message in the workplace – I am thinking of teachers, broadcasters, nursing leaders, the police and the growing number of women directors in industry yet , for me, putting a woman on a political platform just does not work. Are they less intelligent than men? – No; Are they less capable of presenting difficult issues? – No; Are they less trustworthy than men? – No;  Are their views any less valid? – No. Are they any less passionate about issues they believe in? – again, no; So why is listening to the likes of Theresa May or Harriet Harman outlining a new government initiative about as inspiring as watching them standing on stage and reading out their weekly grocery list?   

  

Maybe it is the age that we are living in. Growing up, you were given the sense that politicians were these revered figures, learned individuals who were closeted away in the corridors of Westminster and made decisions in the best interest of the country. Nowadays the emphasis seems to have swayed towards politicians being ‘a man of the people’ who represents the interest of his party. Call it ‘a new openness’, ‘more inclusive’ or ‘dumbing down’ as you wish but things are not what they used to be.

Politics always has been a murky world and always will be. The  nature of the beast  will ensure that there will be secret deals thrashed out behind closed doors but these days spin appears to overshadow debate, policy is no more than a series of sound-bites and the political statesman is as outdated as the Speaker’s breeches.  

The only rallying cry I can see coming out of this year’s political conferences is ‘HELP!!’ and on that point all parties seem to be in agreement.

Hug a hoodie?

Dear Dave,

'Hug a hoodie' was an ill-conceived soundbite and boy, has it come back to bite you. As for the 'Big S' – less 'Big Society', more 'Big Shi2'. Your fingers are not so much on the pulse but in your ears.

An alien visiting Britain for the first time last week could be forgiven the confusion, given the bedlam that has taken place up and down the country. Yet in amongst the violence, the thuggery and the looting there was an oasis of calm that allowed a cricket match to take place in a city that had been besmirched by gangs of youths rampaging through the streets barely 24 hours before.

It reminded me of the scenes of the orchestra playing on while the Titanic was sinking.

Undoubtedly the aliens have as much understanding of the rules of cricket as anyone has as to why carnage should suddenly erupt on the streets.

It is gratifying to see the way in which some of the communities have responded, pulling together to clear up the wreckage and protect their community, but this in itself opens up another series of questions - how far does it go before it descends into vigilanteeism? So far no government has properly addressed the extent to which an individual can protect their own property. Equally, the police whose job it is to protect the public are increasingly being placed in positions where they are reluctant to carry out their duties for fear of prosecution for their own actions.

I would like to think that the majority of people living in this country are honest and law-abiding, if that is not the case then we may as well all pop off and join the aliens. Within any community there will always be a minority of individuals who are hell bent on mindless thuggery for any reason.

There have been as many reasons given for the disturbances as there have been solutions put forward. A lot of attention has been focused on the young, who make up the larger part of those who have been arrested for the various offences.

Undoubtedly there are issues that need to be addressed, and quickly, but this has nothing to do with protest and youth culture. I would not wish to be a teenager these days, with high youth unemployment, a high cost of living, intolerable peer pressure and poor prospects of getting onto the housing ladder. It is very difficult to accept having so many doors shut in your face at a time when most youngsters are trying to work out in their heads just what type of person they are or would like to be. It doesn't help when you see fat-cat bankers being rewarded for screwing up the economy and politicians fiddling their expenses.

Some of the excuses given by numerous perpetrators have been as disgusting as their actions. “We showed the rich and the police that we could do what we like;” “People should show us more respect”. When someone travels from Winchester to Manchester to go on a looting spree it doesn't sound like a cry for help from someone stuck in the poverty trap. So many excuses given to try and justify the mayhem; what I found particularly frustrating was that none of the interviewers ever asked any of the perpetrators how they would have felt if they had been the one who had been beaten up or had their property stolen.

One particularly smug looter claimed that they were not making a stand against society because 'they were only attacking the rich shops, they left the butchers and the grocers alone because they were needed by the people' – Sorry, they were pillaging PC World, Phones4U, JB Sports, Debenhams, the jewellers and the chemists because these places had high worth goods that were more desirable and easier to sell. If the market for fondant fancies was as large as it is for hookey Rolex then perhaps the bakers would have been ransacked.

It is not just the young who feel aggrieved, there are millions of people of all ages who are struggling to make ends meet. They too feel frustrated, they too have been promised things in life that have not materialised. Theft, vandalism, the wanton destruction of property or giving someone a beating solves nothing.

This is not a class struggle because there is no such thing. There will always be those 'who have' and those 'who have not'. In an utopian society everyone would be equal, though there would always be those who are more equal than others.

People talk about gang crime and gang culture – my dad was in a gang in his late teens. No one wanted to be in the gang and everyone tried to get out of it. He spent his formative years cooped up in a filthy room with a group of lads with no money, little food and very little to do. His incarceration was at the behest of Adolf Hitler and you could say he was slightly more than frustrated by his position.

Similarly, my grandfather never mentioned his youth, he did have a few books about the Great War, though they seldom came out and he never discussed any of his teenage years with anyone. Stories he recounted to me seemed to stop at around the age of 12 and pick up again when he was in his mid-20s.

Fortunately my own youth was not beset by global conflict, there were jobs but you always had to start at the bottom and it could take years to work your way up. By the time you reached your 20s you realised that the opportunities of advancement were largely reliant on someone leaving, retiring or dropping dead. It still wasn't easy to find your place in society, I guess we all strived to advance our position in life but we were not under the pressure that is ever present these days. The mantra of the day, if there was one, was 'if you worked hard, things would get better, eventually'. Nowadays from an early age kids are force-fed this ideal of 'get a degree and a £40K+ job is your for the taking'. Everything is geared towards instant gratification, immediate results, immediate reward – I want it, I need it, I must have it – NOW.

Perhaps the fact that there were no credit cards when I was growing up meant that there was less pressure on individuals. If you needed something you saved for it, bought it cash and savoured the experience. Today it is too easy to make impulse purchases, slap it on a credit card and grow bored with your purchase within days.

I struggle to comprehend how rioters/looters can claim that they acted the way they did out of boredom. I never had a computer, an ipod, a playstation, fancy clothes or my own TV when I was growing up. My first car was nearly 20 years old and I had to pay for my own driving lessons. What little money I could set aside was spent doing up the car. I never felt any compulsion to steal, to set fire to or destroy anything, nor beat some innocent bystander to a pulp for the hell of it. I was not bored, there was always something I could do – sport, read, listen to the radio or talk with friends.

Was I any different from anyone else of my age – I don't think so. We all have childhood dreams, I still do, but I recognise them as what they are – dreams. Dreams as large as our imaginations could take us. We all start out with dreams, in my case it was motor bikes and fast cars. My bedroom was bedecked with posters of massive amounts of chrome and metal yet I have never ventured beyond the realm of a sensible family car, and probably never will do. As I grew older so the realisation of my dreams drifted from aspirational towards achievable. No one starts out in life with posters of a rusting Ford Fiesta or The Red Lion Sunday League 4^th XI plastered on their wall.

Today the margins of reality and the virtual world seem all too often blurred. In my virtual world I was a sporting god, my Norton superbike drew admiring glances in the street and gorgeous women were constantly beating a path to my door, but there the fantasies ended. I was never destined for greatness in any category, though I still can dream of winning the Ashes with the last ball of the game turning at right-angles to remove a batsman's middle stump.

Sadly, using one's imagination has long since been dropped from the curriculum, we have computers to do that for us these days. If we were to harbour any grandiose ideas of becoming a professional sportsman / musician / investment banker or whatever others are obliged to accept this ideal without question, irrespective of the individual's aptitude or ability. I would not be so churlish as to knock a person for having a dream but there is a lot of effort that goes into every achievement before they reach the top; it seems to me that in this instant, consumer-driven, throw-away society that we live in there is an expectation that people can make the transition from novice to top of the tree without breaking stride. It seems to me that nowadays there are too many knockers, not enough people offering encouragement and fewer people prepared to put in the hard work necessary to achieve their goals.

When people are spoon-fed the belief that this is 'Easy Street' from an early age it is understandable that disillusionment and resentment will occur as reality kicks in and the realisation dawns that life is never that simple.

I would like to believe that all people are intrinsically good spirited; no one is born bad, though sometimes circumstances mean that individuals will stray. Most people go about their lives in a quiet and unassuming way. They will work hard and pursue their dreams, often subconsciously, in an orderly way. The human spirit is capable of great things, we all achieve some of our goals but few achieve all of their goals. The important thing is to recognise and celebrate our achievements no matter how small. If you set yourself a massive target then it may appear to be unachievable but if you then break that target into a series of stages then the task becomes a lot less daunting.

As far as I can make out man has remained pretty much the same since creation. The primary needs of food, sleep, somewhere to live, heat, love, communication and appreciation have not changed throughout history. That being the case then it must be something else that has changed which has fuelled the disrest that has led to this breakdown of law and order.

Growing up, food formed a high percentage of a family's expenditure, unemployment was low, housing affordable and transport relatively cheap. Only about 10% of school leavers went on to university and it was not that difficult for schoolleavers to find work. The country still had a manufacturing base and a vibrant engineering sector. There were apprenticeships and jobs in banking and the public sector were considered to be jobs for life. Vocational jobs in teaching, nursing and the police were highly respected and saught after. Today you would think twice before opting to enter any of these professions. Long hours, poor morale, lack of respect and unfathomable bureaucracy have seen a steady exodus of long serving staff frustrated at no longer being able to carry out the core work that first attracted them to the job.

The corporate view has changed dramatically over the years, privatisations have changed the perception of the way we do business. It used to be acceptable for companies to take 'the long view', not any more. You can't 'build' a business any more, everything is geared towards instant results. Shareholders expect to see healthy returns year on year – How can this be sustainable in an climate where there are finite resources and so many intangibles? Life is all about investing for the future, as individuals we do this by gaining an education, planning our lives and saving for the future. The rush to produce growth has seen not only employers but the country as a whole stop their investment in the future and we are now seeing the reaction to this shortsightedness. It is not by chance that fuel prices and transport costs have rocketed over the past few years, it is because the companies have failed to invest in maintaining the infrastructure that supports the network.The lack of investment in affordable housing has meant that property prices are now beyond the reach of so many.

What opportunities do schoolleavers have these days? Not a lot. The engineering and manufacturing skills base has gone, the public sector faces a massive reduction in staff in an effort to reduce costs, employers are no longer prepared to pay for training and the school system is not producing students with the qualifications needed by employers. Jobs have been moved overseas in an effort to reduce costs and some sectors have been decimated by foreign competition.

It is understandable that so many schoolleavers now want to go on to university because there is precious little else for them to do. To what extent tuition fees will reduce this number only time will tell. Even low skilled work is difficult to find since many employers now choose to employ part-time staff simply because the employee does not then have the same protection afforded to full-time employees. It is not unusual for someone to have 3 or 4 part-time jobs these days, but this is no way to build a career.

The country cannot afford to have 1 million+ unemployed people between the ages of 16 and 24, especially when we have an aging population and there will be an expectation of experienced people to replace these staff as and when they retire.

I can only speak for the short period time that I have inhabited this planet. Maybe my views have become jaded with age, maybe my expectations too have risen, though I concede that there have been many changes during my lifetime, some for the good, some for the bad. Perhaps this is the time for society to take stock of the situation and decide what type of society we want to be in the future.

Soccer Suffrage

So England's dear ladies have taken a leaf out of their male counterpart's book and crashed out of the world cup on penalties. Those of you have read any of my ramblings on the subject of our national team in almost any sport will appreciate that I am usually underwhelmed by our lack of achievement, whether it be a friendly against the Faroe Isles or a major championship.

Normally our lacklustre performances are put down to tiredness, lack of preparation time, undertraining, overtraining, poor pitch, bad weather, wrong type of equipment, biased refereeing, injury or absence of key players, food poisoning, unsuitable hotel facilities, partisan crowds or plain bad luck – in effect, any old excuse so long as it doesn't equate to lack of talent.

When I used to go to the park with a few of my mates after school for a kick around we didn't spend our time rolling about in the mud in feigned agony then march off expecting to receive shed loads of cash and a modelling contract for our effort, which seems to be the overwhelming objective for any professional sportsman/woman these days.

Of course times have changed, sport is big business these days, especially the TV rights. I grew up in an era of 'Pot Black' and 'World of Sport' – 'Pot Black' – one frame of snooker once a week, primarily scheduled to take advantage of the latest technological breakthrough, colour television. Who can forget Dickie Davies wiggling his quiff with glee at the delight of the World Kite Flying or barrel rolling championships. Who would have thought that the likes of snooker and darts would have become such money-spinners for both participants and promoters.

More recently cricket has tried to grab a slice of the action with the extensive promotion of 20 over cricket. As a cricketing traditionalist I detest this bastardisation of the glorious game, though I can see how it is a far more attractive proposition to sponsors and merchandisers.

Having dipped in and out of the Women's Soccer World Cup throughout the tournament it is plain to see how desperate the TV moguls and sponsors are to raise the profile of the women's game. Previously Women's international games have been the preserve of highlights only shown after 11pm on BBC2. This year, not only have we seen international matches on BBC1 at prime time but also the women's cup final and even the occasional live club game.

At the risk of offending a great many people I fear to suggest that there is a degree of desperation about the whole project – Where the public are being asked to buy into the concept of this latest 'cash cow', I am still seeing 'Dead Donkey', and judging from opinions around the offices I have visited lately I do not appear to be alone in my view.

I hear that it the fastest growing sport in this country, there's a new professional league and that the women's game is huge in the USA, but I still find it virtually unwatchable after only 5 minutes; I've even been known to switch channels to watch the fishing programme (it was a very bad day).

Don't get me wrong, I welcome the participation of both men and women in sport, especially at a professional level, where achievements can be so inspirational to youngsters, but when it comes to soccer there is something definitely not right and I cannot put my finger on what it is.

If you consider the likes of tennis, gymnastics, athletics, hockey, judo – women display incredible strength, stamina, dexterity, determination, control and skill but put them on a football pitch and they look like a herd of stampeding wilderbeest. Originally I thought it might be a team game issue, but I don't think that is where the problem lies, hockey after all is a team game. My recollections of hockey are that it is not a game for the feint-hearted of either sex, so I don't consider gentility to be the problem either.

Steffi Graf used to glide around a tennis court, Martina Navratilova had a delicate touch to her game and Maria Sharapova manages to make her gangly 6' 2” frame appear elegant when she plays (even if she does grunt too much). I reserve judgement on the Williams sisters – they are just scary.

Many female athletes demonstrate dexterity that would lead you to believe they do not have a single bone in their body, often at the same time displaying strength that is way out of step with their perceived physique.

Women's cricket used to be plagued by immobility. There was often more rigidity in the players than there was in the bat they wielded like an axe. Thankfully the game has now moved on and there is a healthy athleticism about the modern game that would put some of the male players to shame.

I still come back to football – there is something about the way many of the female players move, the way they kick the ball that is different. When Wayne Rooney kicks a ball it looks as if he has been kicking a ball all his life, when most of the top women players kick a ball it looks as if they have their boots on the wrong feet, or at least they've still got their platforms on. Please don't tell me it's the boots - I can't see how the presence of a few studs on the sole of a shoe could affect the ability of a woman to kick a football. Women's feet are generally hardened through years of abuse, and given their predilection for high heels you would imagine that their sense of balance would be greater than a man's. (A picture of Gareth Southgate in stilettos just entered my head, not a nice thought and not a great penalty taker either).

The goal celebrations in the men's game do not sit well with me, I have never been keen on the hugging and kissing, let alone the acrobatics and robotic dancing. You would have thought it would have been different in the women's game but I regret to say that their antics don't do much for me either.

Many years ago I was invited to attend a women's rugby international match, and since it was a nice day I accepted the offer to stand on the touchline of a private sports ground in South London. Strangely the game was very watchable. I can't remember who was playing (I have a suspicion that it was the South Africans, but I could be wrong) or who won but the style of play was not dissimilar from the male's game. The girls got stuck in, tackled hard, passed well and ran purposefully when they had the ball. There were no tears, no screaming or squealing, no punch-ups and tries were celebrated with a polite handshake, a wave to a friend in the crowd and an appreciative ripple of applause from the couple of hundred people who had turned up to watch.

I am not so much of an armchair sports fan that I would consider purchasing a Sky sports package, I mourn the loss of so many sports to the digital channels and would deplore the concept of barrel rolling ever making a resurgence on terrestrial TV. Sadly, until the standard of women's soccer improves it will forever remain a minority interest sport for me, one that is welcome to that 11pm slot on BBC2.

The changing face of the annual holiday.

For years as a confirmed bachelor I routinely had my preferred Summer holiday dates declined by personnel departments on grounds that the months of July, August and September were strictly the preserve of those employees with families whose leave needed to coincide with the school holidays. Now that I am married I find that requests to take my holidays out of season are increasingly being challenged because families with kids can no longer afford to take their holidays in the Summer months and would rather face the wrath of the education system by taking their little darlings out of school during term time.

As a consequence Lam, my long suffering wife (her words not mine), and I have just taken a short Spring vacation in July. This was not as we would have wished but the first week in July was the earliest week that our respective employers could accommodate our request for 5 days of leave (this was booked in March, just so that you don't think we left it until the last minute).

I will accept that the general behaviour of children on planes is a lot better than it used to be. More streamlined check-ins, faster turn around times, quieter aircraft and better facilities at airports seems to have reduced the number of tantrums (if only from the the kids). What has been very noticeable over recent years is the liberal approach taken by many 'Adults only' hotels. In a difficult economic climate it is understandable that tour operators are keen to fill vacant rooms with anyone they can but why should someone who has researched and paid for their holiday in the expectation of spending quality time in a child free environment have their peace and quiet disturbed by children running amok in an environment that was not designed to accommodate them.

I can't recall the last time I took a holiday in July but needless to say we were both looking forward to the break and getting away from the stress. That lasted as far as the airport lounge – What I had not made allowance for is that the college term for many has ended. We were in a queue waiting to board the plane ahead of a group of 3 male students, who not only stood behind us but had the seats behind us on the plane. We were in the queue for 30 minutes, boarded the plane and endured a 4 hour flight to Gran Canaria with these individuals who seemed oblivious of the strange looks and glares that were being cast in their direction by fellow passengers and cabin crew. I had an inkling of what lay ahead when they had a heated collective discussion before deciding that 50 x 200 equalled 1000 – definite future treasury department material. Not for a second throughout the entire journey did their jaws stop moving. It wasn't even chat, it was a constant stream of banal garbage conducted at very high volume, and when they weren't debating which of them had the largest lunch box they would be serenading each other with eclectic selections from their ipods. It was like sharing a cab for 5 hours with Dumb and Dumber.

I was so worn out by the time we touched down that I hardly had the energy to drag my suitcase to the waiting taxi to transfer us to our apartment.

This was the first time that either of us had visited Gran Canaria, it seemed a good thing to do before the Spanish economy followed Greece down the tube. I had visited Tenerife and Lanzarote in the past; most notably I was in Tenerife during the Barcelona Olympics and I was at a resort in Lanzarote with a large Belgian contingent during Italia 90 when David Platt scored a goal in the last minute of extra-time against Belgium to put England through to the Quarter-finals of the World Cup. Since there has never been anything that the English soccer squad has achieved that has surprised me the presence of a sole Englishman sitting in the corner, supping his pint with a rye smile passed unnoticed.

In some ways Gran Canaria was a strange choice of destination, we both like swimming in the sea and relaxing on the beach, though personally I prefer seclusion and listening to the waves lapping on the shore. I was impressed how clean the beaches were and enjoyed our evening meals at the various restaurants / cafés that abutted the beach were a relaxing venue from which to watch the sun set. What to me was a new, and unwelcome, experience was the overcrowding on the beaches. My natural tendency is to find as quiet a space as practicable – it may not be the best location or the most convenient but as long as there is room to breathe I will be OK. We had a choice of bays in the resort where we were staying and soon realised that there was one that was much nicer than the other. Every day we would turn up find a clear spot away from the masses and within 10 minutes we would find ourselves surrounded by several groups who for no apparent reason seemed to think there was something special about the area we had decided to occupy.

I have attended many sales courses during my career where the topic of personal space has been raised. How people find it intimidating when people encroach into their personal space. For most people this is around 18 inches, though my preference would be at least 6 feet. So you can imagine my displeasure at having some hairy-arsed Spaniard in a posing pouch waving his sun-kissed cheeks within an arms-length of me. Every time he stood up and reached into his ice box for a beer I wished that I smoked, ideally a fat, smelly Cuban cigar with a red hot tip.

It amuses me the seriousness with which people approach their relaxation. Most people had umbrellas to shelter them from the heat, though I guess some simply used them to stake out 'their territory'. A brave few chose to lie on their towels all day, flicking over occasionally as if they were on a rotisserie. What intrigued me was the number of people who would turn up day after day with umbrellas, tents, chairs, tables, inflatables, cold boxes and picnic baskets (I am sure there must have been people who brought their fridge and TV with them as well). We spent one day watching this group of around 8 people who set up camp not far from us. The centrepiece of their camp was the dining table with a central umbrella. They were difficult to ignore since, like the students on the plane, they all appeared to suffer from verbal diarrhoea. The Spanish language is not a pleasant one to listen to. To my untrained ear a conversation between 2 Spanish women sounds like 2 chickens having a scrap over a few grains of corn. What is more, every time we looked in their direction they were eating. Maybe there is something wrong with me but I find that I lose my appetite in the heat but for this family the day on the beach was spent shovelling food down their necks ad nauseam. I truly believed that this was a magician's box because I could not work out where all this food was coming from – I could see where most of it was going – into this bikini clad Mrs. Creosote wedged precariously on a plastic seat that formed part of this elaborate table. It is a toss up between her sizeable backside and Hairy-arse's thong which image is most likely to haunt me for the rest of my days.

Before we knew it we were back on the plane facing another 4 hours of tedium listening to the same students wittering on about nothing in particular while my luggage was despatched on another plane destined for the far end of the country. Thankfully it was eventually returned to me a few days later.

The world may be shrinking, it may be spinning on an unstable axis and it may throw up all sorts of surprises but the big question remains, if I can't take my Spring vacation until July, the Summer months are effectively off limits and the Autumn months are deemed by my employer so important that no one can take any leave how and when can I book a Summer vacation by the end of the year? By the time I have solved that conundrum I will have earned my 2 weeks' R and R.