Big Men In Little Shorts - the Six Nations and I

You know the feeling when something sounds really important - like the annexation of Crimea or what that woman from The Only Way is Essex wore to dinner last night - but you just cannot seem to give it the same amount of interest as say, freeing the sock fluff from in between your toes?
That is basically how I feel about Big Men In Little Shorts From Half A Dozen Countries Pushing Each Other While Being Terribly Polite About The Whole Thing - or to give it its official name, the RBS Six Nations.
I get that it's important in the world of rugby and usually I'm unthinking enough to buy into jingoism and Scot-bashing played out on grass in most other sports but...just...something...there is something about it that means I end up writing a blog that will be read by eight people at most while the tournament culminates.
It's the sporting equivalent of not watching Borgen or not listening to Yeezus by Kanye West - it probably is worth my time, but that doesn't mean I will.
Then again, I polished off Breaking Bad in the last six weeks, just started watching House of Cards and read all of the so-far-published A Song of Ice and Fire books in about four months so I'm just as mindless and sheep-like enough to follow the tempting, tempting crowd with their offers of social acceptance in those fields anyway.
Just for some reason, the sport really, really does not draw me in. Do you know where I was when England got to the World Cup Final in 2003 and 2007 - in a branch of Argos and at a dog-racing evening respectively which about sums it all up.
I'd watch golf in the form of the Ryder Cup over either code of rugby which I don't like typing, but that is simply the way it is.
All in all, it must be pretty much the same feeling that people who are ambivalent to the omnipresent, all-consuming monster that is football feel for the rest of the 45-odd weeks of the year - enduring the never-ending questions of "Did you watch the game?", "Did you see X fuck up?", "I hate Y so much; how about you?" and so on and so forth.
No I didn't watch it, can we talk about something else? Nope, thought not. I'll go back to de-fluffing my littlest toe.

The Winter Olympics - an 'expert's' view

Despite it basically being a collection of increasingly madcap ways of getting down a frozen hill really, really fast, the Winter Olympics are something amazing.
Tales of triumph over adversity, the very real chance of catastrophic injury for the competitors, the glory, the very real chance of catastrophic injury for the competitors, the political animosity, the very real chance of catastrophic injury for the competitors, the back stories, the very real chance of catastrophic injury, the token athletes from countries where snow has only ever been read about and the very real chance of catastrophic injury for the competitors.
But the best thing about it is, much like the summer Games, you can become an 'expert' in the sports you are watching within 20 minutes of first tuning in.
Take, for example, the slopestyle snowboarding this morning which consisted of 12 very dude-ish dudes going down a massive hill very fast on a five-foot-long piece of plastic with an American dude out dude-ing all the over dudes to take home the gold medal.
At first, you watch it and have pretty much no idea what is going on. There are "frontsides" and "bolts" and "triples" and "1260s" and lots of blond hair in a whirlwind of snow, blue sky and over-excitable commentary.
The only two vaguely normal - and so, by extension, ridiculously incongruous- things witnessed were at one stage, someone knitting at the top of the slope and most of the boarders having their gloves tied to their jackets, like Dougal in Father Ted does.
To add to the confusion, the scoring system is stupid and subjective with judges marking the dudes down for slight technical deficiencies like issues with their shoulder position or maybe a hair is out of place or their jacket wasn't baggy enough or something.
Anyway, fast forward about a dozen jumps and you find yourself saying "Oh he didn't nail the bolt-on there; that will cost him" or "That was such an awesome triple" or "What a perfect rodeo". Being British, one then gets terribly embarrased.
The other thing about being British is you buy into backing your countrymen (one of whom was second at one point and so I got that horrible hopeful feeling and another who was competing without a cruciate ligament - an item of the human body I've always considered pretty important). Given they are British and this is the Winter Olympics, one imagines they probably train by buying a Hobby Craft-ful of that fake snow stuff at Christmas time and taking a trip to their local park.
But that is all the fun of the Games - lesser-known athletes enjoying themselves on the biggest stage after four years of hard work and the audience finding out more about sports they have never seen before and perhaps getting really into them. Like we didn't with Greco-Roman wrestling and synchronized swimming at London 2012...

Why politics is like Doctor Who

Everybody makes mistakes; its one of life's certainties like death, taxation and pretending to like Scandinavian crime dramas.
Some mistakes are bigger than others, some are further reaching than others and some are better remembered.
The ones that are best remembered are usually those by made by people of influence as they are usually carted out to prove said person is either a hypocrite or they are flip-flopping.
In that sense, politics is like writing for Doctor Who.
Doctor Who writers have to contend with a myriad of rules and ideas laid down by their predecessors and somehow plot a course through them all to create some kind of viable plot and Heaven forfend if they get something wrong, lest the internet explode with extremist Whovian bile.
One imagines the show writers have an old file with the word 'Rules' crudely inscribed on the front it, packed to bursting point with every single restriction they have to consider with each law also containing sub-sections on how to get around them. Finally, the file has an ultimate checklist - the result of years of hard graft and shrill abuse - full of hoops which every episode must leap through without touching the sides before storyboarding let alone filming can begin.
In a similar way, politicians have to contend with often unworkable parameters set down by their forebears (or indeed, their own younger, immature, incorrect selves) and when they inevitably have to go back on them, Twitter users find every modicum of hypocrisy in the form of Twitpics and YouTube videos while old fusty people with too many surnames write to the Daily Telegraph complaining about them selling their souls for pragmatism.
Unlike Doctor Who writers, politicians and their aides lurch day-to-day, finding ways to get out of previous policy pledges and they inevitably crash and burn but survive more often - pretty much every day in fact.
Yes, not answering in the 50th anniversary episode how the Doctor and Clara are still alive when they jumped into the Doctor's time stream, scattering themselves across time and space, at the end of the last series is a tiny bit different to a policy of Nelson Mandela being a terrorist - which is less of a mistake and more of a monumental fuck up of gargantuan proportions - but that is another similarity between TV and politics.
You can be completely under-qualified to comment on it but the magic of the internet means you can.

Jimmy Kébé: how will he be remembered?

There are players that split fans' opinions and then there is Jimmy Kébé, the kind of footballer who makes an out-of-date yogurt look like the model of consistency.
In an odd kind of way, the very reason for his popularity with certain sections of the Reading support is the same fodder for his detractors to lob bombs.
To his supporters, Kébé has been our most naturally talented and devastating player for the last half a decade, capable of tearing defences apart and winning games single-handedly.
To his detractors, Kébé has been our most naturally talented and devastating player for the last half a decade, capable of tearing defences apart and winning games single-handedly - just he didn't do it often enough as his talent suggests he should.
Reading's history has been littered with players who have been maddeningly inconsistent despite - or perhaps because of - being blessed with huge natural talent, but the Kébé situation always had another factor to it.
Say what you like about how often the talented likes of Michael Gilkes, Jamie Lambert and John Salako delivered, they didn't shrink from a physical challenge.
Even players unfairly seen as having far more talent than bottle such as John Oster and Seol Ki-Hyeon still played when called upon.
And this is why the Kébé situation has been different as there was always the nagging feeling he only really played when he was 100% physically and mentally and didn't fancy it if he wasn't.
He certainly does not lack for bravery as player - headers against West Brom and Sunderland at home last year attest to that - but the feeling always was that he wasn't prepared to play if he was nursing an injury.
Its the old dilemma of either having a brave, committed footballer or a talented one - not that they are mutually exclusive, just more so the lower down the league ladder you go.
Ultimately, Reading will miss him as he was one of our most talented players we have had in the last six years, but his time has probably gone now.
There is usually only room for one 9/10 in one game 5/10 for the next six kind of player and with Royston Drenthe taking that particular role of maddeningly inconsistent talent, Kébé looked likely to be restricted to less regular football unless Nigel Adkins was feeling particularly confident/reckless.
In essence, going back to the start of this blog, in the same way Kébé's supporters and detractors can point to the same reason for their respective arguments, they can also acknowledge the same memories of him to back their points.
He will be remembered for frighteningly good performances against the likes of Leicester in 2010/11 and Sunderland last season (and pulling up his socks of course).
Whether you choose to remember those performances as stand-outs or frustration they didn't happen more often sums up your view on the man who does what he wants.

Five talking points from Reading 3-3 Watford

1) The striker conundrum

On the face of it, two league goals in two league starts should guarantee you a starting place as a striker in any team, but things never seem to go to their obvious conclusion with Adam Le Fondre and his best role; starter or super sub.
The argument goes that he has neither the physical strength, nor the blinding pace to play the lone man role in a 4-5-1/4-3-3 system as a starter. This ignores the fact he can hold up the ball, link play as well as anyone and is by far an away our best finisher (notwithstanding two golden chances he had yesterday).
Nick Blackman seems more suited to the lone striker role being very mobile, having a good touch to take down long balls and having a Jason Roberts-esque knack of winning free-kicks. However, he has only scored one goal in a Reading shirt and never looked like scoring yesterday.
With Pavel Pogrebnyak our striker best suited to a lone-man role out of favour and Roberts still working his way back to fitness, Le Fondre remains our best bet as first choice striker at this stage and he has every right to feel aggrieved if he doesn't start.

2) Full back worries

An interesting development as come over the summer from Nigel Adkins and that is squad rotation, particularly in the attacking department with all of our wingers or strikers, baring the injured and Pogrebnyak, getting a start in the first three games of the season.
Yesterday saw two strikers (Le Fondre and Blackman), a winger (Jobi McAnuff) and a no. 10 (Royston Drenthe) start in a very loose 4-3-3 formation.
When it worked, especially going forward, it was fantastic to watch, particularly the interplay between Le Fondre and Drenthe, but defensively, it is always looked rickety with our full backs being particularly exposed with no cover in front of them. This was particularly true on the right with Chris Gunter being overmanned on many an occasion with Le Fondre, McAnuff, Drenthe, Blackman and Jem Karacan all taking up residence in the right winger role during the first 60 minutes.
The players are still clearly learning Adkins' system, but the number of times Gunter and Wayne Bridge were up against two or even three attackers with not much in the way of cover must be a particular worry.

3) The calculated long ball

When does a long ball become a hoof? Yesterday, the most obvious feature of our play was the clearance from the full back position up the channels or to Le Fondre or Blackman in the attacking third.
Everytime this happened, the Watford fans would shout "hoof", but this is far from the hoofball we used to see last season under Brian McDermott when players had no confidence and launched the ball in the direction of the opposition corner flag due to fear they might make a mistake.
This was a deliberate ploy to either get one of the front four in behind the Watford defence or use Le Fondre and Blackman's underrated skills as hold-up men to either win the ball and play in an advancing midfielder or to win a free kick.
The problem was, as the second half wore on, Watford got wise to the tactic. They pressurised the full backs so the ball ended up with Alex Pearce or Sean Morrison, neither of whom's passing is their greatest asset, and the long ball became less accurate. Thus, Watford got more possession and gradually overwhelmed us to earn a deserved point.

4) Bridge of quality

Matt Robinson, Nicky Shorey, Chris Armstrong, Ryan Bertrand, Ian Harte. For a decade or more now, we have always had a left-back who has been one of the best in the division we are playing in (last year excluded of course).
However, of all of them, Wayne Bridge may well be the best. He simply exudes quality and experience, defensively and going forward.
On countless occasions yesterday, he did the Shorey circa 2005-7 trick of winning himself a moment's time when he was backed up into a corner, looking up and picking out a pass to a teammate.
He occasionally found himself overmanned due to the constant changing in wingers in front of him (see point 2), but hardly put a foot wrong and was a danger pushing forward.
To to top it all off, he used all of his experience in the last minute to win a free-kick for no apparent reason when he went down in our penalty box with Watford threatening to break through once again.

5) A new Danny

Last year was a strange one for Danny Guthrie; in the eyes of many Reading fans he went from being starter, to primma donna to hopeful saviour to just plain old occasional starter.
What was clear was that Guthrie played best when he was the main man and this is the role Adkins has given him this year as the base and focal point for the starting of our attacks when we are in passing and not long-ball mode.
The centre halves spilt and Guthrie goes back to pick up the ball from the keeper and picks a pass. His game is all about keeping the ball moving and keeping possession which is probably why Adkins thinks so highly of him.
He rarely loses the ball, his long passes are a joy to behold (one in the closing minutes from the left back spot fully 70 yards across pitch to Garath McCleary was gorgeous) and he seems to be playing with confidence shown by his drag back played in his own penalty box to set up a counter attack yesterday.

Man of Steel - 12A - 5 out of 10

Superhero films in the 2000s are a bit like what I imagine grunge music was like in Seattle in 1990; a boom inspired by some stand out examples of the genre followed by a whole heap of underwhelming nothingness.

Every comic book hero seems to have been rebooted this decade. Hell, there is even a Hercules film pencilled in for next year with Dwayne Johnson starring. I'll leave you to make pre-judgements on that one yourselves.

However, Man of Steel is the reboot of the big guy. The man. Superman to be exact.

As such, there automatically comes with a hope it will deliver a standout alternative from the general dredge and with Christopher Nolan on production, the expectation rises.

The film explores the formative years of Kal-El/ Clark Kent/ Superman, all-American hero, played by Jersey's own Henry Cavill, who kind of resembles George Osborne's beefed up cousin, only with less laughs.

We see how he grew up from a boy blasted to Earth from his doomed home planet Krypton by parents ultra-British Russell Crowe and Ayelet Zurer where he grows from a shy, retiring child afraid of his powers to a bit of a boring man with arms the size of foundry chimneys.

Dubbing him boring is of course unfair on Cavill as the role demands that despite wearing a Zorro-style cape and a suit that totally isn't spandex but might as well be spandex, some base form of dull decorum is required, a bit like a hench Spock.

Its not that he plays the character badly, on the contrary, just the character itself is so boring.

This isn't the only character issue.

Amy Adams' Lois Lane veers from intrepid, gritty reporter for the Daily Planet in the opening half hour of the film to screaming damsel in distress in quicker time than you can say “comic book style cliché".

Superman's nemesis General Zod is, however, a perfect imagining of the villain by Michael Shannon; cold, calculating, but not necessarily evil, more a victim of his own circumstances.

Man of Steel suffers from the same problem every big budget action film now has in trying to outdo the previous big budget action film by adding more carnage and explosions until it resembles a clashing of a scrapheap and a fireworks factory inside a tumble dryer.

In a similar vein, the climatic fight scene between Superman and Zod resembles the long-running joke in Family Guy of Peter Griffin fighting the Giant Chicken in the sense it is scripted, extended and essentially a oneupmanship contest for who could throw their opponent through the most amount of skyscrapers.

Its not only the climatic scene which is like this, its every scene in which Superman fights a fellow Kryptonian just this was the final scene, the highlight of the movie. Mix it up a little bit!

In that sense I suppose it was a suitable ending for the film given what had gone before, but rather aptly given the content, its only suitable crashing right through the other side of pointless and gratuitous.

Another similar recurring course it follows is looking into the backstory of the hero to find out what makes him fight for justice and all that malarkey (turns out its Earth-dad Kevin Costner and a love for the glorious cornfields and other assorted attractions of Kansas).

Every superhero film now makes their champion into a broody, sullen, world-weary individual – as well they should be what with all the pressure they're presumably under for being the world's go-to-guy– but Superman is historically the cheesiest of all the comic book heroes so it basically feels like painting him with an emotion brush for the pure sake of it.

And then he's still dull and a bit of a drone. Some work.

All in all, Man of Steel isn't a bad film. Its an interesting if not riveting reboot of a classic story and so given the current state of superhero films which it essentially apes, it is something of a monotone retelling of a story in a format audiences are now tired and cynical of unless it is truly remarkable. Which it isn't.

In a way, its something of a triumph as it leaves the audience wanting it to be longer to add some more emotional meat to the bones of the plot, but also desperate for it to be shorter as to have less interminable fight scenes where characters are basically used as wrecking balls in an amateur attempt at city planning.

Oh, and don't fork out for 3D. You shouldn't anyway for any film, but Man of Steel has about as much use for it as one would wearing the ridiculous glasses out in the real world.

Countless unforgettable moments from the London Games

In the build up to the London 2012 Olympic Games, the Guardian put together a superb series of articles entitled '50 Stunning Olympic Moments' which took in well known and lesser known achievements from the Summer Games over the last 29 Olympiads.

The past 16 days have seen plenty of new stunning moments that can be added to that particular list as London welcomed the biggest party in the world to their doorstep.

Every single medal awarded at these Games (every single competitor in the Games come to that) has had a story behind it that was told brilliantly by the UK media and their colleagues from across the globe.

In no particular order, here are some of my personal stand out moments from the Games.

The way in which Jessica Ennis won her heptathlon gold medal. The personal bests she set and the way in which she pushed past the rest of the field at the end of the 800 metres as if to say “Here I am, out of my way, I am Jessica Ennis, this is my gold medal, this is my time, this is my moment. Get out of my way.” To see a Britain that was favourite for a gold medal in track and field so ruthlessly and confidently see off her challengers was an inspiring change.

Sir Chris Hoy sealing his place in Olympic history by notching his fifth and sixth gold medals in the Velodrome. There is no such thing as a banker in sport, but Hoy is as close as you can get. Widely reported as one of the most honest and humblest sportsmen you can get, all but the most granite-hearted of souls could not be moved by his tears at both of his award presentation ceremonies.

Sticking with cycling, the achievements of Laura Trott; born prematurely with a collapsed lung and spending the first weeks of her life in intensive care. Fast forward 20 years or so and the petite Essex girl left all in her wake in the omnium and was a key component of the all-conquering, record breaking women's team pursuit team. If Hoy has set the bar for cycling at the Olympics, Trott could be the to set it higher in years to come.

More cycling, Bradley Wiggins redefining what a sportsman can be to a nation bored to death with grey, neutral presences. Wiggins is cool, unique, witty, eloquent, humble, modest and a man with the common touch. Added to that, he is the best road cyclist this country has produced and, despite the incredible competition, must be favourite to win Sports Personality of the Year come December, largely because of the second word in the title of that gong.

To the judo arena and possibly the moment that brought more tears and lumps in the throat to a nation in the whole Games. Gemma Gibbons lost her mother, the woman who introduced her to the sport, to cancer eight years ago. After making her way past all comers to the semi final, she won that round too and mouthed the simple words “I love you Mum” to the heavens. Touchingly beautiful.

More heartstrings touched over at the aquatics centre where Tom Daley secured a bronze medal in the 10m platform diving. Daley's trials are well documented and need no repeating but for a young man with the weight of the world on his shoulders to emerge with a medal is a tribute to his country, himself and his father who will be looking down proudly upon him.

More gold medals but this time over at Eton Dorney where so much heartache was erased when Katherine Grainger crossed the line with Anna Watkins to secure her first gold medal at the Olympics in her fourth attempt at trying and instantly putting aside the heartache of so silver medals at the last three Games.

And how have I gotten this far without mentioning the undoubted British star of these Games, Mohamed Farah. His broad, large toothed-smile, his slight Cockney accent, his self-deprecation, his silent determination and wit; a; true British traits. But this from a man born in Somalia who came to Britain aged eight years. His is a story of a modern British hero; multi-cultural, world-aware but still tied to home. The sight of his daughter skipping along the track to give her Dad a kiss as her heavily pregnant Mum aimed to keep up at the end of the 10,000metres was touching, only to be equalled by his madcap 'head-slapping' celebration to win the 5,000metres. A true hero.

Back to the Velodrome and a contest a decade in the making between arch-rivals Victoria Pendleton and Anna Meares ended in controversy, tears but sportsmanship as Pendleton congratulated her rival on the lap after the end of the race. A fine career ended in style if not the result dearly wanted but the message given to her fiancee at the end of the keirin provided an image of the Games.

Down to Weymouth and the king of the seas, Ben Ainslie. Beaten, bruised and battered after six rounds of the contest, he looked down and out but he was made angry and the rest is history. Four gold medals and a silver in five Olympics in the sailing for Ainslie; one of the best British Olympians ever secures his place in the pantheon.

What about in the boxing ring where Britain had it's best performance in more than 50 years and the record books were written with Nicola Adams taking home a gold medal. The part-time extra in various TV soap operas who couldn't find sponsorship to fund her dream for love nor money will probably have no hassle in finding some willing backers now.

So far, this is something of a Britsh-tinted affair (understandably so, I hope you feel too dear readers) but have some foreign flavour. 15 year-olds dominating in the pool, Usain Bolt securing his place in the annals of history in his own unmistakable way, Michael Phelps joining him, Meares fulfilling her destiny, Kirani James, Feliz Sanchez, Sandra Richards-Ross, Ryan Lochtee, Charles De Cos (and his Dad), Brazil walking away with silver in the football, David Rudisha blowing away the field in the 800 metres, the outrageous nature of the USA's victory in the 4x400m women's relay and so many more.

Well over a thousand words and no mention of the likes of Ed Clancy, Jason Kenny and all of the all-conquering cycling team, Robbie Grabarz, Nick Dempsey, the dressage team, so many rowers, Alastair and Johnathan Brownlee, Alan Campbell, Zac Purchase and Mark Hunter, the kings of the canoes both sprinting and slalom, the hockey teams, more sailors, Peter Wilson, Jade Jones and so so many more.

All of these moments and more made this a Games to remember that, I am probably not alone in saying, wish could go on forever and ever.

Alas, they cannot, but memories last forever and one imagines that the BBC Sport archive of the London 2012 Games will get an awful lot of mileage in them over the next weeks, months and years to recreate the fortnight-long period when Team GB delivered but not only that, Britain did too.

What is your stand-out Olympic moment? Drop your thoughts below the line.

Problems for Euro 2020

Forever in football the view on the horizon has as much attention paid to it as the event currently occurring; “sure Manchester City won the Premier League this season, but what are they doing to consolidate their position at the top of the tree?”  commentators ask.

It’s one of the ways to maintain the crucial interest of the masses in the sport, by keeping the narrative going and thus keeping the revenue flowing to clubs, the media, governing bodies and all the key players in the industry.

Thus, we have the situation whereby UEFA’s biggest party of them all, Euro 2012, is fast approaching but the planning for the finals of the competition in 2020 has already had its first deadline come and go.

Midnight this morning was the point at which expressions of interest to host the competition had to be submitted to UEFA and so it came to pass that UEFA has three bids on their metaphorical table (or huge literal table) to ponder over these bids being from Turkey, a ‘Celtic’ option consisting of Scotland, Wales and the Republic of Ireland and Georgia, the latter two bids submitted right on the deadline.

So, there are three options for the right to host the 16^th European Championships for UEFA to explore, scrutinise and eventually make a decision on in late 2013 or early 2014. All good news then?

Well, no.

Each bid has a huge, gaping problem with it that makes the worries over the state of the stadiums in Poland and Ukraine for this year’s tournament seem rather small-fry by comparison.

On paper, the Turkish bid is the strongest as it has the infrastructure (in terms of stadiums already built), a passionate fan base for the sport and it also missed out on hosting Euro 2016 to France by a single vote which shows its capabilities to host a tournament of this magnitude are acknowledged and respected in UEFA HQ .

However, two rather large problems severely cripple the Turkish bid. Firstly, there is the ongoing situation regarding corruption in their FA and match-fixing in Turkish football, a situation so severe that UEFA supremo Michel Platini has waded into the situation threatening to ban the country from European competition.

Secondly, Istanbul has also submitted a bid to host the 2020 Olympics. The rules of the International Olympic Committee prevent a country hosting a major sporting tournament in the same year as an Olympics if a city in that country is hosting the Games. The Turkish government is thought to favour the Olympics should a choice have to be made due to the subsequent commercial boost and reasons of realpolitik. The announcement of the Olympics host city is expected in September 2013 with UEFA’s decision following three or four months later.

The ‘Celtic’ bid is a strong one with the countries having a large number of appropriately-sized stadiums built and in use already, not too much geographical distance between the host countries for visiting teams and fans and a strong infrastructure of airports, railway stations and hotels in cities such as Cardiff, Glasgow, Edinburgh and Dublin for example. However, a three-country bid is particularly unprecedented (and a successful one completely unprecedented) and would cause difficulty when it comes to automatic qualification for host countries.

Lastly, the Georgia bid is the most underwhelming of the lot. UEFA criteria dictates that host nations must have two stadiums of 50,000+ capacity, three of 40,000+ and four of 30,000+. Georgia currently has one stadium with more than 30,000+ (Dinamo Tbilisi’s 57,000-seater) with a 30,000 seater expected to be completed by 30,000. Even in a country dealing moderately well with global economic downturn (more on which later), the ability to construct at least eight new stadiums must be doubted and, after the problems in Ukraine over stadium construction, UEFA may be unwilling to commit to East Europe again, despite its desire to branch the game out.

Clearly, UEFA are in possession of three bids that have as many problems as they do advantages. For some context, Euro 2016 had four bids at this stage, Euro 2012 had five initial bids submitted and Euro 2008 had six. Some of these bids had equally acute flaws as the current crop but that’s not the point; variety produces strength.

The problem, as this article by Keir Radnedge of World Soccer magazine eloquently explains, is very much of UEFA’s own making. To get more finals matches (and therefore more income), UEFA upped the numbers of teams in the finals from 16 to 24 as of Euro 2016 which subsequently requires more host cities and stadia to be provided.

All well and good when global and national economies are booming and states can afford the expenditure but that is far from the case in the current climate. Indeed, doubts have already been expressed over France’s ability juggle an adequate amount of host cities which, combined with the absurdly early deadline for interest in hosting to be announced by UEFA, has produced three severely flawed candidates. The large list of countries who ultimately decided not to bid really does tell its own story.

Clearly, it is still very early in the process which would allow UEFA to re-open the bid submission procedure and hope for an economic upturn to rustle up some more interest and a concrete bid or two but, not for the first time, European football’s governing body has shot itself in the foot.

This post appeared over at www.footballfriendsonline.com/blogs/

American Reunion (American Pie Reunion)- 15- 8 out of 10

It’s back! Unless you count the three spin-offs that were made to earn some dollar off of the trademark name (which we really shouldn’t count and, if you do, feel free to leave now).

Yes, nine years after Jim and Michelle’s wedding, the American Pie gang are back in an attempt to try to wrestle back the teen gross-out comedy style of film and steer the stale, overworked genre in a fresh, different direction.

Basically, what American Reunion (or American Pie Reunion depending on where you’re reading this from) is trying to do is what the original American Pie did 13 years ago and reboot the coming of age film which the original did which, judging by the lookalike films that it spawned, was good news for a few years and then very, very bad news after that.

The original American Pie was a coming of age film about teenagers leaving high school and trying to lose their V-plates, American Reunion Pie remains a coming of age story but at a different time in life; the time in life when all those high school dreams about one’s future have been replaced by the monotony and problems of adult life but the joy and happiness that remains.

From tackling growing up and all that entails, the film showcases the issues of the next stage of a person’s life; children, partners, work monotony, sexual monotony, the nagging annoyance that it could have been better and trying to keep things “the way they were”; problems everyone will face in life.

The chemistry between the five male leads in the original film made it a charming success and this element remains in place, thankfully, to keep the film ticking along when sometimes it feels a little flat. The outrageousness of Stifler, the cringey Jim, the understated wit of Finch, Kevin the everyman and Oz’s earnestness works as well now as it did then and their relaxed, easy bonhomie makes up for a lack of real, stand-out belly laugh moments. In a way, that’s how it should be as the boys (and girls) mature and their style of humour would change as in real life.

Which is not to say that the trademark gross-out scenes have departed what with a gratuitous knob on show here and some pooping going on there as well as some leather bedroom attire that goes badly wrong, as you might expect.

But what makes the focus on this different style of coming of age film is thecontrast with the original problems of the main characters which the film provides vividly by also featuring a group of 18-year-olds (centred around Jim’s neighbour) and their growing up problems.

I’m a sucker for films with some personal connection to myself, hence why the Harry Potter films are always a must watch. American Pie Reunion has this element as, for my generation, it was probably the first 15-rated film you had seen that you didn’t want your parents knowing you had seen. Much like Reunion itself, it brings back memories of a nostalgic time where things were better (read different) to what your life is like now, releasing some nostalgia-heavy emotions to temper one’s view.

All in all, whilst the film itself lacks a wealth of laugh-out-loud moments, the original elements that made the series a success remain which is good as, after nine years, it could easily have lost these elements. It’s sweet and silly, a bit of gross-out action and leaves with you a feel good smile on your face with a very tight and humorous ending as well as a desire to see the original three films once again and regressing. If it wasn’t from the American Pie lineage of films, it wouldn’t receive as high a mark out of ten but this film reviewing lark is all subjective so there.

Thoughts from yesterday's Max Clifford talk

Yesterday afternoon, I made the trip down to my old university to attend a talk given by Max Clifford to the current crop of journalism students. Thankfully, alumni were also invited otherwise this blog post would never have happened and what a crying shame that would have been.

The talk consisted of an opening speech of around 45 minutes in which Clifford gave the spiel about how he got into PR, where he started, a large amount of amusing anecdotes about people he’s worked for and with and so on. I think his favoured line about Colonel Sanders, chickens and trust issues got an airing at this point. This was followed by a Q&A session that lasted around 45 minutes that consisted largely of either questions about his clients or slightly harder questions about the nature of his work and influence on the press.

First things first, I cannot praise the man enough to taking time out of what I imagine is a very busy schedule to speak to a group of students (the evidence that he has a very busy schedule was clear by the fact he was on his mobile straight after leaving the room). Furthermore, as well as speech and Q&A, he stuck around to answer individual questions afterwards for an extended period of time. Give that man some more praise.

Secondly, like all self-made men (women to but “self-made people” doesn’t have the same slight alliteration to it that I so thoroughly get a kick off of), I have nothing but an inordinate amount of respect for him; he recognised himself that there was an element of ‘right place, right time’ about parts of his career but you have to be there and ready to take advantage of those times and, if you can do that, you have every right to do whatever you like when you’ve made it.

Thirdly, parts of his speech, his anecdotes and his answers to questions from the floor were interesting, intriguing, appalling (with regard to taste) and entertaining. The way he runs his business was revealing, his stories about some of his clients (kept anonymous largely) were very amusing and his views on the Leveson inquiry, phone-hacking and the effect of a famous footballer’s retirement and the stories about his sexuality that may come out then and how that will effect homophobia in the sport were all very libellous but all very interesting.

However, despite all this, throughout the 90-minutes or so, one could not help but think it was something of a performance designed to dazzle and leave you a bit star-struck. Naturally, as a PR man, he has the instinct, skills and experience to suppress information that he wants to suppress leaving you wanting a little bit more.

When questions from the floor came about the nature of the celebrity/media nexus and how the press can be free and fair given the influence of people like himself, he had a habit of side-stepping the issue, throwing in an anecdote and moving on. His skill at this has been honed on more difficult opponents than student journalists, as can be seen in the Louis Theroux documentary on him. He always seemed one step ahead of the game and able to give you a glimpse of some genuinely shocking information but yanking it away from your grasp. As you’d expect from someone in his ‘racket’ of course.

In a Q&A session it’s a lot easier to do this as there is the lurking sense not to dwell on a point as a questioner and engage in a debate as other audience members would also like to participate and time is limited.

As a journalist, he would be an absolute dream to interview as he has some very forthright views on issues (such as News International, phone hacking and Leveson) and the benefit of a one-on-one session would be advantageous to get more telling answers than he seemed to give yesterday by placing more pressure .

However, the likelihood of myself ever getting into that kind of situation is probably rather slim so yesterday was a much appreciated insight.

All in all, I did not know what to expect of Clifford before the talk. On reflection, I found him engaging, funny, interesting, a little pervy old man-ish, generous with his time, a master of the PR art and equally adept at leaving you wanting that little bit more. Oh to be able to open up his head and have a root around inside.