Friday Five: Post-Olympic News

Now the hurly burly’s done and we’re back to the ‘real’ (i.e. non-Olympic) news, the papers make for fairly grim reading. Here is a selection of quotes from today’s press:

5 Trending Topics in Today’s News:

1. “I think fame became more exciting for me in the late 90s because I could actually use it as a means to an end. I could actually have it help my vocationfulness. I could offer comfort and upliftment and be a leader and take on that responsibility, rather than see it as this daunting thing.” – an interview with Alanis Morisette proves that she is still crazy after all these years (and her grammar hasn’t got any better either. No, it’s not ironic; it’s just unfortunate).
2. “Whatever views one may have about Julian Assange as a Wikileaks activist, it is clear that in legal and moral terms he cannot properly be described as a refugee.” - Alan Rusbridger (editor of the Guardian) explains his position.
3. “Despite being the epitome of middle-class (doctor’s daughter, grammar-school girl, boho provincial upbringing), being mistaken as a posho has been a lifetime affliction. Maybe it’s because I went to Oxford, maybe because I refuse to cultivate a mockney accent, maybe because all my friends are called Tarquin de’ath von Bunface-Toffo, I can somehow (inadvertently) pass and I am routinely lambasted for it.” – Hannah Betts offers rare sympathy to Benedict Cumberbatch who has complained that he misses out on a lot of roles because he is too posh for people to take seriously.”
4. “The world can always be divided into two types of people – those who like board games and those who don’t. Those who thrill to the news that a fancy dress party is in the offing and those who shrink from it like paper from a flame. Those who will listen politely to accounts of other people’s dreams and those who will beat the teller to death with the nearest stick. But none of these divides comes close to that which separates horsey people from the non-horsey.” – Lucy Mangan stands firmly on one side of the fence and refuses to jump it.
5. “When a new manager comes in it’s always a rebuilding process in certain respects. I’m always honest. I’m always realistic. It’s impossible to say it’s the title this year; people will laugh at me.” – On the eve of their first game of the 2012-13 Premiere League campaign (at West Brom), Stevie G’s pre-season remarks don’t exactly instill confidence. 

Three for Stevie



My hero: Captain Fantastic

His 400th league appearance for Liverpool. Three goals against Everton - the first time anyone has scored a hat-trick in the Mersyside Derby since Ian Rush (who scored four goals at Goodison in 1982) and the first Liverpool player to score three in the derby at Anfield since Fred Howe in 1935. Did I hear you say absolute legend? Oh, yes.

And the rest of the team were pretty amazing too. Suarez and Carroll combined well up front, and there was constant delivery of the ball into promising areas. Reina was solid at the back, Kelly made some great runs, and even Carragher managed some decisive tackles without getting booked. I know we're a long way off the pace, but footballing brilliance is always worth watching.

A cup is a cup is a cup

You may belittle the (Carling) League Cup all you like, but it does my heart good to see Stevie G leading his team to victory and wafting the silverware aloft. The match itself, however, did not do my nerves, nails and voice any good at all.

New Year starts here

My New Year's Eve celebrations have begun early - Stevie's back! He comes off the bench at Anfield to captain the team to victory and score a goal himself. You beauty - pass the champagne.

Quick Quintet:Possible Dreams

When I was a child and I couldn't sleep, I tried to think of my favourite dream and wish myself into it. I think they used to feature fluffy kittens and the like. My neice once came downstairs in tears after bedtime because "I can't find a dream with me in it", so I am not alone.

I still do a similar sort of thing - not always when I am trying to sleep; some of them are just my favourite daydreams. Of course there are things we all want (well, maybe not all, but they're pretty common): a cure for cancer, and an end to global poverty being pretty high on the wish list.

But no matter what John Lennon may have you believe, world peace is simply too hard to imagine. I have to be able to visualise these things in my head to make them valid fantasies. And I'm not talking bedroom stuff here - these are all pretty clean.

5 Favourite Daydreams:

1. Crossing the ball for the winning Liverpool goal in the Champions League final. I never score the goal, but I always set it up with a sublime cross that Stevie G blasts into the back of the net. I often re-enact this cross in my sleep - Him Outdoors has the bruises to prove it. The crowd goes wild and I celebrate by leaping up and down inanely with all my teammates (who include Robbie Fowler, Steve McManaman, Kevin Keegan, Alan Hansen, Jason McAteer, John Barnes, Bruce Grobbelar, Michael Owen and Ian Rush)
2. Winning an Oscar - although it is for a stage performance, the setting is all Oscar. My speech is perfect - not too short; not too long; remarkably gracious and un-tongue-tied
3. Driving with Him Outdoors through Cotswold lanes in an E-type Jag convertible. It is British racing green with the luggage strapped to the back. I am looking effortlessly chic in a chiffon scarf and stylish sunglasses and somehow I know we are going to one of those boutique hotels in the country where we will drink gin and tonic on the verandah before sitting down to dinner
4. Some race or other: I'm running really fast down the finishing chute and everyone is cheering and waving flags. I actually imagine this often when I am out on a training run
5. Seeing my book on the shelves of a bookshop. I know what the cover will look like

In My Red Heaven



What a fantastic result from an excellent game. I know it's just one game, and one for which we were always going to make a considerable effort, and you can't use it as a barometer for the rest of the season, and yet I can't help but allow myself a glimmer of hope that my team are back. We didn't even miss Master Sulky-chops as Suarez played to near perfection. The goals were all tapped in by Kuyt, but the brilliance belonged to Suarez, and maybe to King Kenny for some judicious transfer moves. Andy Carroll is yet to prove himself, but it was good to see him come off the bench for 16 minutes of play.



The mighty reds were absolute angels, darting nimbly around the pitch (even Carragher wasn't caught out of position too often - bless his Liver cotton socks) while the washed out whites (appalling kit from the red shite) were either totally ineffective (Berbatov was their only decent player - Rooney was so annonymous I only knew he was on the pitch when I heard the swearing) or dirty, cheating bastards. Him Outdoors says, 'They don't like it up them!' (It's true - half of his vocabulary comes from Dad's Army which is made only sadder when you realise the rest comes from Bull's Eye).

I'd have handed out at least three red cards for foul play (Van Der Sar - you can't elbow people in the neck just because you didn't realise you can't be off-side when the ball is played back to you; Rafael - attacking the ref in petulant display of temper tantrums is not a good look for anyone over the age of three; Nani - just because you're not getting your own way, kicking people is still wrong and if you can leap up and sprint to the ref in Rumplestilstkin rage, why do you need to be carried off on a stretcher?) and I'm hardly biased at all. In fact, I conceed that Carrager deserved his yellow for a fairly nasty foul on Nani although the latter's miraculous 'recovery dash' did nothing to further his cause.

SKY's halftime commentary featured the question - who has hit the goalposts the most in this season's premier league? Answer: Steven Gerrard. For what he lacks in subtlety, the man certainly has passion and whether the ball is sailing high, wide and none-too handsome into the stands or sinking sweetly into the back of the net, there is no question that 'he twatted that' as my friend Jersey Girl used to say. He blasted a few inches wide in the second half - I read a ridiculous comment that we might not need him any more at Anfield - just behave yourselves!

Kenny Dalglish responded with a smile and a wave as the Kop sang Happy Birthday to him - how cool would that be? Fergie the red-nosed w@#%er was in somewhat lesser spirits - he'll be off to blame the ref and his side's injuries - they hadn't got Vidic and Ferdinand; we didn't have Kelly, Agger or Aurelio after 24 minutes - and I'd be very surprised if he actually gives credit to the opposition (I'll bet he supports the All Blacks).

Of course I don't want the wrong side of Manchester (i.e. Salford) to win their 19th league title and hence one more than us - even my optimism has bounds; I know this is out of our grasp this season. I may even have to support Arsenal in the upcoming crucial games, and so might the red half of Mersyside. But this game wasn't about the title; it was about football, and we just played it better. End of.

Private Lives; Public Heroes

During a text ‘conversation’ about football with my friend in England, he wrote, ‘Did you hear Gerrard rumour?’ My insides turned to ice as I replied, ‘I have heard several – what’s the latest?’ He answered, ‘Getting his wife’s sister pregnant, or brother’s wife. I can’t remember which. That was why Terry was so whingey in South Africa’, to which I shot back, ‘That’s okay then. I thought you were going to say something awful like he’s going to Man Utd.’

Don’t get me wrong – adultery is nothing to be flippant about – but what has it got to do with his football? I care very much about where Stevie chooses to play his football (and I hope he will stay with the not-currently-very-mighty-reds) but his private relationships (extra-marital or otherwise) are none of my business. It seems that many people think it is theirs. I found this from the Talk FC web-forum, where clearly Vicky Pollard is masquerading as ‘redmadmundo’:

“The part of the story is that nonsense is its Ronnie Whelan’s daughter, a lad I know actually knows the girl and there’s no way, the other one about his sister in law was even worse, when a lad in work got a text, I spoke to the fella sitting next to me who lives down the road where her mum lives and he said there wasn’t a sister!”

Since when did we expect sporting figures to be role models? We watch programmes like Footballer’s Wives and then pretend to be outraged if someone has an affair in real life. Steven Gerrard, John Terry, Tiger Woods – they’ve all suffered in recent months from our phony mealy-mouthed morality. We strip them of their endorsements, contracts and captaincy because they don’t set a good example. Basically, it’s mere envy because they are earning thousands of pounds a week, but they’re not earning them for saintly morality; they’re earning them for hitting a ball – and they still do that very well, if we let them.

If I had children I might want them to play football like Stevie G, sing like Dusty Springfield, and build businesses like Richard Branson and bridges like Isambard Kingdom Brunel. But would I trust their emotional judgement? How would I know? I don’t know who these people really are. There is an old joke that people mock David Beckham for not being very bright, but no one criticises Steven Hawkin for being crap at football. There used to be a school of thought that you should stick to what you’re good at – now we seem to expect our ‘stars’ to be paragons of virtue as well, and I don’t know why.

We were supposedly horrified when Gordon Ramsay cheated on his wife. Why? This is the man who routinely swears at and belittles people on public television, and yet he was voted ‘celebrity father of the year’ – clearly demonstrating that bullying is admirable. Serena Williams has the most smashing forehand in women’s tennis, but I wouldn’t take fashion tips from her.
 
In New Zealand Colin ‘Pinetree’ Meads is revered as the greatest lock forward ever – he has an MBE and was named the NZRU Player of the Century in 1999. He endorsed Provincial Finance with the immortal, emotive (and typically Kiwi) line, “solid as, I’d say.” When the finance company went under in 2006 and 14,000 investors lost their money, they seemed somehow surprised, having put their trust in the man rather than company. Again I ask, why? How does sticking your head between other men’s thighs qualify you as a financial advisor? Probably best not to answer that.

There are some public figures who are known to be lovely – Joanna Lumley; Michael Palin and David Attenborough spring to mind. Others less so. I don’t agree with many of Jeremy Clarkson’s opinions and would probably find him insufferably smug and arrogant if I ever met him, but his journalistic style is sublime. Similarly, Tom Cruise’s scientology and sofa bouncing antics may be completely bonkers, but he has made a number of good films (Top Gun; Rain Man; Born on the Fourth of July; A Few Good Men; Interview with the Vampire; Mission: Impossible; Jerry Maguire; Minority Report; Collateral; Valkyrie).

Some people (though God only knows who) might think Angelina Jolie has talent in her chosen field of pouting – oops, I mean acting – but does the fact that she has a bizarre necessity to recreate the united colours of Benetton adverts lessen her attributes? Are Roman Polanski’s films of less merit because of his controversial personal life? The Americans in a wonderful display of duplicity awarded him the Best Director Oscar in 2002 for The Pianist but refused to allow him into the country to accept it. Many singers, authors, musicians, artists have dodgy political viewpoints and personal lives: Michael Jackson may be a child molester of very limited mental faculties, but Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough is still one of the greatest disco sounds of the ‘70s.

I wouldn’t take political pointers from Sean Connery, as he is a rampant right-wing misogynist, but he’s a good actor. Conversely, does the fact that Bill Clinton chose to play hide-the-cigar with his intern have any relevance for anyone other than his wife? It was disgraceful that he lied under oath – and for that alone he should have been removed from office; no one should be above the legal system – but he shouldn’t have been in the dock for it in the first place. We should be ashamed of ourselves for being so enthralled by the salacious gossip. The ‘stars’ are only giving us what we want.

We used to have godparents who were supposed to be our role models and protectors. We respected our parents, teachers, religious leaders, and perhaps scout and guide leaders. I remember being influenced by my parents, aunts, uncles, a couple of teachers and the local Red Cross leader. If we now look up to singers, actors, celebrity non-entities and footballers, what sort of a life are we admiring? Perhaps we actually get what we deserve after all. But Stevie, please don’t leave me.

Early highs and lows

You couldn't bet on Stevie G to win the golden boot - or you know that I would have done. His goal was wonderful! The less said about the USA equalizer, the better. Actually, I will say that the more I see it; the worse it looks. And it doesn't look too pretty in lego either - although at least this version has the added merit of being amusing.

 

Bye Bye Burnley

Of course it's always good to see Liverpool win, and it's great to see Stevie score a goal - the one he unleashed at Turf Moor today was so exceptional that even the Burnley fans stood and applauded. It was Liverpool's first Premier League away win in 2010. That previous poor away form has not helped them in their quest for Champions League football. There is now a slim chance that they might make the coveted fourth spot, although I don't hold out a lot of hope.

The 4-0 victory, however, is tempered with a touch of sadness as it finally consigned Burnley to relegation - they'll be back in the Championship next season. Him Outdoors is fatalistic - he's seen it all (and far worse) before and is just happy that his boys got the chance to play against the likes of Liverpool, Arsenal, Chelsea and the Red Shite (whom they beat - hurrah!). Also, they don't have the financial woes of Hull or Portsmouth and with some shrewd spending they could well be back up again very soon. I hope so.

Mood altering phenomena

There are two things which can radically change the way I feel and over which I have no control whatsoever. One is the sunshine (it makes me happy) and the other is the performance of my football team.

Liverpool have lost four games in a row - they haven't won the title for 20 years and they are not looking likely to progress past the group stage of the Champions League. Is this the sign of a club in crisis?

It certainly didn't do my heart good to see Stevie G being consoled off the pitch against Lyon with a recurring injury. We 'entertain' the red shite at Anfield this weekend. Without him or Torres and with Benitez tinkering with the team like a mad puppeteer (why on this earth would you replace Benayoun with Voronin for no apparent reason?), we could be in serious need of a paddle. And maybe a bucket and spade. After all, we've already got the beach ball.

I just hope I don't entirely succumb and sink into total despondancy. There's plenty of time for that yet. We have a bank holiday coming up this weekend (they call them statutory days here). It will probably rain.

Winning and Losing

Well thank goodness for that result. Liverpool beat Burnley 4-0 so harmony remains in our household and I can afford to be gracious in victory with Him Outdoors. It was a fantastic result for Benayoun scoring his hat-trick and Stevie G played brilliantly in his alternate position. Him Outdoors admits that his boys played well, but Liverpool are simply a class above, and I’m not exactly going to argue.

Meanwhile the All Blacks lost to South Africa allowing the South Africans to take the Tri Nations title. There is a lot of kicking and chasing and precision penalties in the South African game. Kiwis complain that this is boring – they prefer running the ball from the backs. Both of these versions of the game are equally exciting to me although at the moment, only one is proving effective. Guess which?

The All Blacks are the Man Utd of rugby – beautiful to watch when it’s going well, but ‘they don’t like it up ‘em.’ The penalties they gave away were often for ill discipline, brought about because they were frustrated on the field. Whether you like it or not, if you know you have the best kicking boots in the game, that’s a good tactic by South Africa.

The Weevil was waiting for her bags at the carousel in the airport when the All Blacks turned up, returned from their unsuccessful campaign and looking somewhat sheepish. She said she was excited to be in their midst and found herself grinning, although everyone else was looking away. No one had turned up to welcome them home.

‘Can you imagine being surrounded by the England football team?’ she asked me. I assured her I would have no self-control whatsoever if I were in touching distance of Stevie G, no matter what his recent results. She asked the husband of a friend, known to be a rugby fan, if he weren’t excited by the presence of his sporting idols. He replied, ‘Nah. I might be if they’d won.’ I think that’s indescribably sad.

Are our heroes not allowed to have bad days? Are we so capricious that we turn our backs after one tiny letdown? The All Blacks were beaten by the World Champions in formidable form. I don’t think that’s a disgrace. The only shame here should be attached to the fickle response of the so-called fans.

The end of the dream... is just the beginning

Okay, so we didn't win the title and it's all our fault. Those draws against just-promoted sides early in the season have come back to bite us in the bum. Of course it is disappointing to (possibly) be the only side ever to have lost just two games and not won the title.

With a defensive record to be proud of and Reina's golden gloves on the line, Carragher lost it with Arbeloa, which wasn't pretty but showed a determination in the defensive lines that bodes well for next season - yes I'm looking to next season now; it's hard to dwell on the past.

Liverpool have also beaten the club record in terms of Premier League points, but still not won the title. Apart from the early losses, the main reason for this is, obviously, Manchester United. They should be congratulated for their consistency. The fact that Benitez will not congratulate Ferguson only adds fuel to his fire, and makes Rafa seems churlish.

Even if you don't like their manager or some of their players (which I don't) there is no denying that they have won the games they needed to win with a toughness of spirit that is essential to a champion team. Man Utd have now equalled Liverpool's title-winning triumphs, which makes for a great contest next season if nothing else.

But there is a bright side to all this. Stevie G is the Football Writers' Player of the Year (despite Ferguson publicly questioning his credentials) and he has, in fact, played superbly. My favourite was, naturally, the goal against Man Utd in the 4-1 drubbing at Old Trafford.

We'll be back. Meanwhile, I'm supporting Burnley for the Championship. We are buying the lottery tickets but Him Outdoors says how disappointing would it be to get all the way over there only to see them lose - very, I should imagine.

So he too is looking forward to next season where he's hoping he'll be supporting his side playing in the top-flight once again, and actually getting to see them on TV in this country. There may be one or two frosty silences in our house. Bring it on!

Dare we believe?

Eight games to go, one point behind, the dreaded 'game-in-hand'; dare we believe? Are we back in the race? I had set my sights on the Champions League, but I must admit, I would not say no to the premier.

This morning's game was incredible for a number of reasons - not least Stevie's hat-trick of course. But it came on a day when he didn't actually play all that well, and nor did Torres. It's a sign of their influence that they were marked so heavily, leaving other players to run free - and didn't Riera make the most of it?

That goal was fantastic. It will have critics complaining - indeed Him Outdoors did mutter the words 'Wimbledon' and 'hoof' before I glared at him (I have a pretty mean glare at 5.30am) - but it was inspired. And I love seeing keepers play a decisive part in scoring goals, rather than conceeding them. Reina seemed pretty happy about it too.

Generally I have a soft spot for Villa (it's a long story and involves Andy Townsend) but right now, to mix sporting metaphors, the gloves are off. It's 19 years since I saw my team brandish the league trophy aloft, and I would love to see them do it again. But can they? Will they stand firm, or will they fall at the last hurdle? You can't say I didn't warn you about those metaphors.

In the infuriating words of my mother, 'We'll just have to wait and see'. Whatever happens, it will be exciting. And in the words of an even more infuriating cheerleading debacle (now, that can't even be called sport!), bring it on!

G&T - Perfect combination

Four - nil against Real Madrid! That's five-nil on aggregate. We thrashed them! It doesn't get much better than that - unless we were to do the same thing to Man Utd. at the weekend, ('I would love it' etc.). I can't see that happening and it's pretty much all over bar the shouting in the Premiership, but let's not allow that cloud to darken our sky, for today in my football-land all is sunny and bright.

Did you see that first goal? Fantastico! 'Fernando Torres, Liverpool number nine' indeed. Pass and move - it's the Liverpool groove, and the cut backs worked excellently throughout. It was like shooting fish in a barrel and it could have been more, were it not for their keeper, who pulled out some of those what I believe are known in the business as top drawer saves.

Admittedly if I were a Real Madrid supporter (and thank God I'm not) I would have felt aggrieved at that penalty decision. I don't think that was hand ball and it was a bit unfair for their player to get booked for it. Nothing dodgy about the execution though. That was a sweetly taken spot kick (will ESPN please stop calling them PKs? I thought that was a type of chewing gum).

And then the third goal was just Liverpool gold. That's why we love them. I've always though G&T to be a great combination - and now we have a new contender - Gerrard and Torres - simply sublime. When they had both been substituted to rest up for the next big game, even Babel and Mascherano played nicely together - but B&M doesn't quite have the same ring to it.

And what about Jay Spearing who came on in the 74th minute and made a few incisive runs up the pitch. Brought through the youth academy, having captained the Under-18s to the second of their successive FA Youth Cup victories in 2007, this lad had the Kop chanting his name - 'There's only one Jay Spearing'. How great would it feel? Pretty damn good. We love you, Liverpool, we do...

It's a funny old game

It's not been a good week for our household football-wise. Late goals have crushed us. All the ones in the Premier League went against Liverpool, particularly at Anfield where the snow sluiced down and even Captain Fantastic couldn't save the mighty reds their position at the top of the table.

And it all came down to an 87th minute goal by an Australian - blatantly not pictured. I still believe, however. Liverpool will rise again to the top of the table.

Meanwhile, Him Outdoors is devastated. The highs and lows of football supporting have never been so graphically illustrated as this semi-final of the Carling Cup.

Even the Guardian drew a prophetic parallel - "Four-one up and coasting towards a final date with Manchester United, Spurs were left bedraggled as Owen Coyle's emerging Burnley team produced a comeback that, in Turf Moor folklore at least, will be compared to Liverpool's miracle in Istanbul in 2005 as the Championship club took their wealthy Premier League visitors to extra-time and were within two minutes of going to Wembley."

He thought they couldn't and then he thought they could, and then he thought they couldn't, and then... Well all this thinking was quite exhausting and the result was not the one he wanted. After sending euphoric messages at the end of 90 minutes, he was reduced to shell-shocked grief by 120. He had practically booked his plane ticket home but this little claret and blue engine simply couldn't.

He is proud but he is gutted - so near... 'We've never made the final' he whispered and there is nothing I can say. I really don't know how he feels - my team will pick themselves up and carry on. All I know is that it hurts. 'The poor little town, how are they going to come back from that?' he asked. Fortunately he wasn't expecting an answer. Bill Shankly could probably have given him one.

So for Burnley supporters everywhere, I'm thinking of you. It was a great story while it lasted, but the Hollywood ending was not to be.

Up Where We Belong

Capitan Fantastico does it again as Stevie G leads his side to another glorious victory - 5-1 against Newcastle at St James' Park. Though I felt slightly sorry for Shay Given (it would have been at least ten if it weren't for his excellent goal-keeping) and didn't like to see little Michael (Owen) with blood pouring from his knee, that's not enough to wipe the smile from my face. The boys done good.

Even Lucas and Benayoun played well - and I'm not usually forthcoming in my praise for them. Mascherano's return is welcome - he adds the needle to the midfield and his challenges are of the 'uncompromising' variety, shall we say. I would have liked to see Robbie Keane come on and so, by the look on his face as he smarted on the bench, would he.

Of course I miss Torres, but they managed admirably without him. Babel is becoming a tower of strength (sorry) and it's always nice to see Hyypia head one into the back of the net. I still rate Kuyt for his hard work, positional play and tactical awareness, even if he does lack a certain finesse and you could probably make an entire DVD of shots of him tripping over the ball - I'm sure someone already has.

Benitez managed a smile, which may be a first, and didn't even look too annoyed to be bothered by a mobile-phone-wielding fan as he sat in the stands supposedly recovering from surgery while chattering away and passing directions through to Sammy Lee.

Watching Liverpool must be one of the worst ways to relax - I certainly bite off all my fingernails and feel my heartbeat rise each time they step on the pitch - but at least this time he was rewarded with three points and a chink of daylight at the top of the league.

So Liverpool will now head into the New Year at the top of the table where they belong. I'm sure someone knows when was the last time they did this. I don't. What I do know is that I believe they can go all the way this season. Bring it on! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Meanwhile, back in New Zealand

Well, I have been away travelling for the last four weeks through Italy and America, and now I am back. I have a head full of memories and a camera full of photographs, the results of which will soon be flooding onto these blog pages, so don’t say you haven’t been warned. In the meantime I’ve read books, seen films, perused newspapers, watched television, listened to radio programmes, and talked to people about issues and current events.

Because of the places I have visited, it is no surprise that the main topics concern violence and rioting near Naples from the drug-related Camorra, the rescue mission of European governments to bail out banks and halt the freefalling economy, fires in California, and the US election campaign, and the great Stevie G scores his 100th goal for the mighty Liverpool. Honestly, they refer to him as Capitan Fantastico in the Italian press.


I haven’t heard New Zealand mentioned once in the past month; proof of the island’s isolation. So we bought a paper to see what has been happening while we’ve been away. Nothing, in a word, which could also be viewed as life continuing (or not) as usual.

Don’t get me wrong; this isn’t altogether bad. Who wants to live in a land of crime, pollution, overpopulation and the constant threat of terrorism? Not I. I love the beaches and coves of the Bay of Islands; the forests of Fiordland; the mountains and clear light of Otago; the vineyards and peaceful culture of Marlborough; the wide open spaces and the laid-back attitude to life. That’s why I live here, but it is true to say that not a lot happens.

The tedious wheel of predictable fortune is confirmed by the front page which announces that five people ‘win’ $6 million each, while two teenagers die in a modified 4WD, another hits and kills a cyclist from behind, and another two folk are involved in a head-on collision on North Canterbury Roads – how’s that for the lottery of life?

Meanwhile, Helen Clark bests John Key in a debate but he still climbs ahead in the polls – it’s all about the tax cuts, people. The financial market crashes but house prices remain relatively stable – at least you can see a house while your shares vanish into the ether. New Zealand beat England at netball (this is news?) and the Greens seem to be reverting to Chinese strategies and promoting a one-child policy.

Speaking of children, the first thing I noticed on arriving back in this country (besides the generally appalling dress-sense) was the proliferation of squealing children throwing tantrums. I’ve not heard that sound for a blessed four weeks and I can’t say I’ve missed it. New Zealand seems inordinately obsessed with children – to you they may be expressing themselves; to me they are disruptive and irritating to everyone in the vicinity.

Sure, they have children in other parts of the world, but they don’t pander to their every whim and elevate them above all normal social expectations. They are in restaurants (no ‘kids menus’ in Italy – they eat what adults eat; just less of it), on public transport, in museums and art galleries, in parks and everywhere we have been. But they are polite and well-behaved so you don’t have to notice them unless you choose.

Children: they are a part of life, but they are not the sole reason for it. As Him Outdoors puts it, ‘They may be the future, but they are not the now, now, now!’