Define sport

What is sport? The English dictionary defines it as an “athletic activity requiring skill or physical prowess”; it then mentions that this is often yet not exclusively competitive. A perfect example is the current rugby world cup - it certainly ticks the box for physicality and you only need to watch a game to witness the skill demonstrated by the players.
Almost all activities I partake in, watch or write about come under the umbrella of sport. When you consider that the description also includes “recreation or pleasant pastime” the umbrella doubles in size and opens up the question of when can an activity call itself a sport? This age old question was recently revisited when the card game Bridge claimed to be a sport.
Last week the English Bridge Union lost a high court battle against Sport England who had decided not to class Bridge a sport. To those outside of the sporting network it might seem confusing as to why a card game would so desperately want to class itself as a sport but it should be no surprise that a large part of it comes down to money. As a sport Bridge would be eligible to apply for funding as well as allowing schools and universities to offer it as a sporting option. Even after a high court ruling the case is not closed as the judge focused purely on the case in hand, ruling that Sport England had acted lawfully. He refused to comment on whether Bridge is actually sport.
There are the obvious benefits to being classed as a sport and as mentioned funding is a significant factor. I would like to think that sport must have a physiological benefit to the participant and therefore the heart rate must be raised at some point. Everyone is likely to have an opinion but who should get to have the final say?

Fit for a prince

It is impossible to hide the disappointment of England’s early exit from the Rugby World Cup yet we must not forget that there are still numerous opportunities to enjoy world-class fixtures. I am still undecided on whom to support for the remainder of the tournament although I found a temporary distraction last week thanks to the Georgia versus Namibia match.

I bid for a wide mix of tickets in the ballot but as previously mentioned I was sadly unsuccessful. I had a limited budget and therefore low expectations so would have been delighted to watch any of the pool games in either of the Westcountry stadiums. The small capacities of the Gloucester and Exeter grounds combined the popularity of rugby in this part of the country resulted in no tickets; or so I thought.

A last minute opportunity arose thanks to a friend I bumped into a couple of weeks ago. This resulted in two tickets for the aforementioned game at Sandy Park to watch a team who I already held a natural affinity for. After three trips to Georgia this summer I felt it was obvious to support the Eastern Europeans in their quest to secure a second win. I was hoping for an excitingly close encounter and presumed it would therefore be a popular fixture; I did not however expect it to attract a royal attendance. The rumours of Prince Harry visiting obviously increased media interest in the match and if only I had heard this sooner I might have interpreted the smart casual dress code a little more accurately. My friend and I were intrigued by the heightened security in and around the seats we had been allocated. It soon became clear why I should have dressed a little smarter as the location of our box turned out to be good enough for royalty.

It is only a game

The wound is still raw. It has taken me a few days to come to terms with the devastating defeat England suffered against Australia last Saturday night in the rugby world cup. As I type the words ‘England are out of the world cup’ I feel the pain of a nation that only last week was filled with so much hope and expectation.
At last I had a Saturday night in the UK and one that coincided with England’s third match of the tournament. I must admit my nerves were increasing during the build up but I had never once let my mind contemplate the consequence of a loss. Thankfully this time I was in the comfort of an English friend’s home rather than a Georgian bar with a Frenchman or a wedding in Greece with a Welsh girl, as per the previous weeks. This provided little consolation and or escape. I awoke the next day hoping it had all been a bad dream but was greeted by a downbeat morning news followed by damming newspaper headlines.
Admittedly this is sport and it is “only a game” as I was so often told after a poor performance. That will bring no comfort to our players or the majority of England supporters. It is the statistic of being the first host team to fail to make it beyond the group stages that will continue to haunt us and there is still one month of the tournament left to play.
The only proactive solution must be to pick a new team to support in the hope they can offer a more satisfying result; that said I am personally struggling to switch my allegiances just yet. We do still have one remaining game so we should help “carry them home” - right to the bitter end.

Bride v groom

I did not learn from my mistake, my diary was not planned any more efficiently this week. After watching England's opening game from an empty Georgian bar this time I was hoping to enjoy the atmosphere of a home crowd in a local pub. Instead I found myself in Greece, a country with no affinity for the egg shaped ball.

I stupidly had only thirty hours in the UK after traveling home from Eastern Europe, within which I was required to spend over ten of those driving. I flew into Heathrow, made a beeline to West Cornwall for a few hours of work, then drove through the night back to Gatwick for a 5am flight. The disruption to any sleep pattern, the hours wasted sat in a car and the loss a nights sleep was certainly made worth it as it did mean I was able to drop in and meet my one day old baby nephew.

I am not requesting any sympathy as I am fully aware my travel plans were self inflicted, on top of that my trip to Greece was purely for pleasure; I had been invited to a close friend's wedding. The ceremony was planned for the Saturday, you can guess where this is going, there was a big diary clash but this time not due to my planning. The bride and groom, who are both avid rugby supporters, chose the weeding date long before the group stages of the World Cup were drawn, it was far too late to change anything. The biggest coincidence became apparent as the matches were announced, the bride is welsh and the groom English. It made for any extremely nail biting eighty minutes. My consolation for England loosing had to be the look on my friends face as she declared it to be truly the best day of her life.

Kick off

Kick off. The rugby World Cup has begun at last. What an honour it is for the UK to be hosting such a significant sporting event, I do hope we can use this to our advantage on more than one level. This is a wonderful opportunity to spread the word and increase participation. Rugby has always been overshadowed by the more popular sport of football, yet in my eyes it brings so many more desirable values to those who play or support it. For the England team this is their chance to maximise the home advantage, it worked for our Olympians three years ago, let's hope it can work for our rugby players too.

I have failed in the efficient and logical planning of my diary. The rugby World Cup arrived to the UK and I left. The timing could not have been any worse if I had tried. The Australian team checked into the city of Bath just as I left it, then the Georgian team arrived in Exeter the same week I headed back out to Eastern Europe. Yes I am currently in Georgia commentating on a summer beach sport. I am enjoying the weather but missing the excitement that comes with any World Cup, let alone a sport I love that is hosted by my home country. Thankfully and probably due to the nation of Georgia competing, and winning their opening match, I did manage to find a bar showing the england game. My friend and I were the only viewers in this open air bar, the atmosphere could not have been further from that found at home. Nonetheless putting up with the time difference to support our team was worth it. I now feel a slight allegiance to the Georgian team and after seeing some incredibly shocking results from some of the favourites in the opening matches, who knows how far they can go.

Home soil

For some reason I have felt detached from much of the recent sporting action which has taken place over the past week on this small island we call home. In theory a true supporter’s interest should not vary when sporting events change their locations yet I have been aware of my personal enthusiasm waning as the north of the country has been attracting all the attention.
Admittedly I had a busy week of work which featured a lot of driving and even included a trip north of the M4, yet I have hardly taken any notice of this year’s Tour of Britain cycle race. That could be due to the lack of a British yellow jersey or more likely it is due to the location. The last two years I have followed the Tour diligently as it passed through the Southwest and beyond. Even friends from outside of sport were talking about it yet this September I haven’t even heard my cycle club mention the race. I am sure the whole of Yorkshire has been getting behind the cyclists but I do hope the legacy of this significant international cycle event will live on across the whole country. We need to encourage people to get on their bikes and not just when a few professionals fly past their door.
Thanks to Olympic champion Mo Farah I did hear more about the Great North Run. Aside from the elite race this event is a fine example of getting thousands of the public active and engaged in sport. It really is a major highlight in the sporting calendar and always receives a phenomenal level of support, even if it is the wrong side of the M4..
All of this pales into insignificance though compared to my excitement about the forthcoming Rugby World Cup which kicks off in less than a week. The action will be coming right to our doorstep as Exeter’s Sandy Park hosts a number of the opening pool games.

Back to school

For some reason I have that back to school feeling. It is slightly unusual as I have not actually experienced the new academic year since I left university and I do not have any children or close relatives that will be starting school this week. I have spent all of August working and as I am now a retired athlete it is not even the start of pre season training. All of these factors combined should make for a standard September, one that follows on fluently from August. The only two factors I can attribute it to are the topics I love to comment on, sport and the weather.

The sudden dip in temperature over night has pushed me to crave my first bowl of porridge since springtime, I have dug out the long sleeved running tops and swapped my sandals for shoes. The sporting change has been more subtle this year with a significant overlap. Most notably, the athletic and rowing world championships were only just finishing, whilst the international rugby season had already begun. Athletics and rugby in my mind should not overlap, just as summer and winter should be distinctly separate.

I decided to embrace this unexplained back to school feeling and what better way to do that than with a new haircut. One of the most exciting features of the first day back was seeing the new 'looks'. Sadly I was never that brave and after attempting a fringe cut by my mother that turned into frizzy ringlets that lay unattractively on my forehead, I decided plain and simple was at least always safe. My hair has not been shorter than shoulder length since I was a toddler, thirty two years later I've plucked up the courage and gone for the chop. It feels invigorating, I am now ready for the new season, whenever that might be.