To watch or to do?

I showed my age recently when referring to the popular Saturday night television show Blind Date. The young people I was speaking with had never heard of the late Cilla Black and the nearest thing to the infamous dating show they have known is the current Take Me Out. I am not old enough to remember Cilla Black for her singing but I do have very fond memories watching the elimination round of Blind Date as three hopeful candidates were whittled down to one. Growing up I watched a very limited amount of television; a Saturday night when I wasn't attending a swimming gala was a rare treat.

I am not sure if it is purely due to my increased awareness and interest but there seems to have been a significant rise in the variety of sport available on our screens. I like to think that even in my teens I would have chosen to watch the swimming world championships, for example, over a less educational entertainment show.

I do still find myself torn between watching the wonderful performances of our athletes and participating in sport myself, especially at this time of year. We are spoilt for choice at the moment with iPlayer, the red button and regular terrestrial all showing ever increasing amounts of top level sport. It always seems to peak towards the beginning of autumn as we see winter sports hold warm up games and the summer sports stage their big competitions.

So far August has seen the British swimmers come home with a record medal haul, the England netballers pick up bronze in the world cup and our men's cricket team secure a historic Ashes victory. Still to come we have the athletics world championships, the rugby world cup and one I cannot omit - the pentathlon European championships on our doorstep hosted by the city of Bath.

English summer

I had not intended to mention the cricket for a second time in three weeks however our historic Ashes victory was too significant to omit. Those of you who read last week's column will note I describe the English men's cricket team as "ours"; a term I would probably have avoided had the score been different.

Perhaps I was too quick to join the naysayers after the second test when we suffered such an embarrassing defeat. It looked as though we had our work cut out until England started to capitalise on their home advantage and exploit pitches that suited their style of play. England finally found their momentum and never looked back. I am just starting to plan a trip to Australia so obviously "had" to contact my friends down under - let's just say I am glad not to be visiting for another few months.

Another English pastime which is vulnerable to our unpredictable seasons is a personal favourite of mine - camping. There is little you can do to conclude a cricket match in the rain however there are a few options to improve your chances of surviving a camping trip in the UK; one of which is "glamping" (glamorous camping). Judging by the fact that my spellcheck doesn't recognise the term I can only assume it's a British invention. Who else would go camping when there is the possibility of being wet and cold? This was my first experience of so called glamping and I must admit it was lacking in what I would call glamour but certainly featured camping.

Perhaps I am being too harsh. Even though I was sleeping under canvas I did have an actual bed and there was even electricity including plugs inside the tent. All that was really missing was room service and champagne.

Chef De Mission

The sound of our national anthem can not fail to provoke that patriotic pride. As an athlete it was always a special moment to be on top of the podium reflecting on a winning performance. I have not had that opportunity for a couple of years but I have just experienced something equally special as I lead an incredibly successful young British team to the European Youth Olympic Festival in Tbilisi, Georgia.  

A few months ago I was awarded the role of Chef De Mission for TeamGB's youth team. This was a magnificent honour as well as a serious challenge. I was expected to lead a team of seventy one including forty four athletes from the age of thirteen to seventeen through their preparation and the week of competition. We were one of the smaller delegations of the fifty participating nations, only fielding athletes for five of the nine sports on offer. However we made up for that with quality, winning a total of twenty medals and finishing an impressive seventh place on the medal table.

As a member of the British Olympic Association Athletes Commission I was qualified to apply for the role, not expecting to even be called in for an interview. On accepting the honour I must admit I was slightly daunted by the challenge. I prepared myself as best as I possibly could and expected an incredibly tough eleven days in Tbilisi. Admittedly there were numerous challenges for the team but the forward planning and efficiency of TeamGB enabled the athletes to remain one hundred percent focused on the task in hand. It is only now that I can truly appreciate how much work creates a successful sporting event. I realise how spoilt I was as an athlete competing in Beijing and just how much TeamGB do behind the scenes in order to help the athletes deliver their best possible performances.  

The right direction

This week saw the start of the Women’s Ashes in Taunton and I was heartened to see the team win their opening match in style. The series has attracted a significant amount of media coverage and both games were played in front of large home crowds; something which would have been unthinkable just a few years ago. I’m sure the men’s poor performance in their second test has helped to switch some of the focus on to the women who seem to be rising to the occasion.

Whilst women’s sport has been enjoying a positive surge in media interest, outside the world of cricket two of Britain’s top male athletes have been receiving some less than favourable coverage.

My sympathy goes out to Chris Froome who has won his second Tour De France in emphatic style despite the French media making repeated and apparently unfounded accusations of doping. Only three years ago Sir Bradley Wiggins was knighted after his Olympic and Tour performances; the public and the press fell in love with him. Froome is now replicating those performances but instead of recognition in the Queen’s honours list he is dodging pots of urine and spit.

Another British athlete who is receiving lots of press coverage for the wrong reasons is double Olympic gold medallist Mo Farah. Despite putting in a stellar performance at the Anniversary Games this weekend and winning the 3000m Farah has found himself in the spotlight as a consequence of his coach, Alberto Salazar, who has been the focus of doping allegations. In Farah’s case, there have been no accusations of any wrong doing but his performances are still being scrutinised due to his association with Salazar.

I have always been of the opinion ‘innocent until proven guilty’ and believe we should support all our British athletes. Sadly it would seem that many editors don’t share this view.

Adventures in the attic

There is no such thing as a quick visit to our attic at home. The numerous boxes with piles of dust on the outside and forgotten treasures on the inside are the perfect recipe for hours of time wasting. Despite the fact that on every trip up the ladder more unwanted junk is thrown out the organised chaos refuses to diminish. I held little hope on the latest search as I was looking for an outfit I last wore more than twenty years ago; the only evidence that this was not a figment of my imagination was a faded photo in an equally dusty album.

My search was triggered by a party invite with a Western theme. I am always reluctant to purchase an off the peg, out of the packet, fancy dress outfit as to me that is plain cheating as well as being thoroughly boring. Unbelievably I found it still intact, even the moths had not discovered it. The outfit did more than just inspire me and after a little improvisation I had my costume. Admittedly the dress was now a cropped tunic and the headdress needed extending but the outfit felt more authentic than any money could have bought.

I had a few more trips down memory lane throughout the week. This time of year is not only packed full of exciting international sporting events but also the all important school sports day. I was given the honour of attending a variety of these events as a guest and there was even the threat that I was to be disguised as teacher for the staff race. Sadly I had to make do with cheering from the trackside. It is wonderful to see that this tradition lives on and schools are no longer afraid to have a competitive event in the calendar; after all it is not just sport that provides competition in life.

Bribed with an ice lolly

After four weeks of working abroad in Azerbaijan and Germany it feels great to be home. Both the European Games and Pentathlon Worlds were fun but nothing quite compares to a proper English summer; warm weather, glorious long evenings, Wimbledon and train strikes. This week, however, I am not about to embark on another tirade about the inefficiency of public transport - I want to talk about the unforeseen positive effects of train strikes.

My first week back in the UK was manic to say the least. I was working all over the country and clocked up some serious miles in the car travelling back and forth. On Thursday I had to travel up to London for a meeting at 10 am so I booked my train tickets well in advance hoping to get some work done on my journey up from home. After a terrible trip back from Germany, my heart sank when I heard on the news that both the train and underground would be on strike that day with passengers advised to expect severe delays. I got up extra early on Thursday morning to catch the earliest train possible and braced myself for the worst.

What actually happened came as a pleasant surprise. The train I caught up was relatively empty and arrived on time. Clearly many commuters had been put off by the doomsday warnings of travel Armageddon. Yes the underground was closed but I packed a pair of trainers and enjoyed a brisk walk to my meeting – it was great to see so many people out enjoying a healthy stroll to work in the nice weather. Once my meeting was over, I hurried back to the station eager to avoid rush hour and boarded the first train I could. This one wasn’t too packed either and to compensate the passengers for the ‘inconvenience’ of the industrial action we were all given free ice lollies and biscuits. My kind of strike!

Rant over

I warn you in advance that I need to get something off my chest. You might think I would be a seasoned traveller by now and take delays in my stride, I usually do. I’m not sure if it is the affect of being away for four weeks or the fact I have a job to rush back for; I am stuck in an airport and really annoyed.

I was up at three thirty this morning to catch the red eye flight from Berlin back to Heathrow; you can imagine my frustration when I received a text to inform me that my flight was delayed by thirteen hours. ‘How is this possible?’ was my initial reaction as I headed to the airport determined to get to the bottom of this and find an earlier flight home. I had a work engagement to get back for that has been in the diary for weeks and one I could not afford to miss.

It transpires that after spending the last seven days melting with temperatures hitting the high thirties and no sign of a breeze the storm we had all been hoping for arrived the evening before my flight. Consequently the aircraft I should now be flying home on is stuck in Dresden. Apparently no British Airways staff work at that airport so once the passengers had disembarked nobody was allowed back onto the airplane and even the luggage is still onboard.  

As inclement weather conditions are deemed an act of God and not the airline’s problem no alternative flights were offered. I have now bitten the bullet and purchased another flight from an airport on the other side of Berlin that will take me into Luton. I still have two more buses, two trains and a taxi before I'll be home in time to shower and rush back out the door.