So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye!

Well, that's your lot for the time being. For the next two weeks I'll be leaving blogland and sunning it up in Mallorca, so you won't find much on here.





Monday afternoon and someone will be strapping my into an aluminium tube whilst it flies through the air at unfathomable speeds. At least after then, I'll be able to chill out by the pool.

See you all in a fortnight!

Award Ceremonies are Boring

This evening was supposed to be an evening of celebration and enjoyment. In some ways it was, but in others is was hardly the best night out I've ever witnessed.





Every parent, brother or sister that has had a son, daughter or sibling in school or college will probably have witnessed some sort of award ceremony. It's an evening where the school celebrates the achievements of it's students and staff and it's an opportunity for the head teacher to blow his own trumpet for an hour or two.

But it has to be said, some of them are as enjoyable as a trip to the dentist.

Lets face it, whilst you appreciate and applaud the achievements of others, the fact is that you only really care about what your child has done and once that's over and done with, you'd rather head on home.

Today's ceremony was similar. My brother has just completed a CISCO Essential IT course and went today to get his certificate at the stupidly named "Allerton Grange School".
Allerton Grange might not sound like a stupid name for a school but let me explain. In Leeds, there are two schools, in close proximity, with very similar names. Allerton High School and Allerton Grange School. When I was asked to drive to 'Allerton School', guess which one I went to? I will be campaigning for Allerton Grange to change it's name to avoid further confusion.

Anyway, after visting the wrong school, we change course and headed to the stupidly named school, just in time for the awards ceremony.

The evening kicked off with an individual from Education Leeds telling us all the value of IT in the modern world, which was mildly interesting but it didn't exactly tell me anything new.
He then passed on to another individual, who I'm sure was on a recruitment drive.
He proceeded to scaremonger the entire audatorium, telling us the importance of IT and how the UK is falling behind and how modern society will be completley crippled by a 9% skills gap or a badly wired RJ45 connector if we didn't do something this instant. If people had been paying attention, pandamonium would have inevitably broke out through sheer panic.

As he went away, the certificate giving proceeded. This is the point where you just clap robotically as complete strangers collect a piece of paper from another complete stranger.

At the interval, we headed to the foyer for the evening's highlight - the free food & soft drinks. There was little going on after the interval and so many, including my brother's head teacher, made our excuses and left.

Well done to one and all.

Cycling Makes Your Arse Hurt

In the latest installment of my 'get fit for summer' campaign, I set out on a leisurely bike ride. Whilst overall, the trek might have burned off a few calories, it's done absolutely nothing for my posterior.






After stuffing it in the garden shed, then leaving it at my Gran's for a good few years, I felt it right to get the trusty Raleigh Nitro out for a quick spin. It's something I'd planned to do since Uni shut up shop for the year but to start with, I couldn't really be bothered. After a little maintenance and a hefty Halfords carrier bag, she was finally ready for the road.
This morning I headed down to the Leeds - Liverpool Canal, which as far as I know, is the only 'official' cycle track in Leeds. Joining the towpath at the border of Rodley and Bramley, I headed West towards Bradford and just followed my nose.

I hadn't really planned on how far I'd end up, I just thought that if I got to Apperley Bridge, then that'd been at least half worthwhile.
As it turned out, I got to Apperley faster and more easily that I thought and so I continued along, eventually ending up at Shipley. At that point I headed back. The heat was getting a bit too much, the dusty track had made my mouth dry and my backside was twitching from the saddle.

As I began to head back, my derriere really started to ache. I raced on just for an excuse to get off the flipping thing.
I'm now typing this, after a 12 mile trip, unable to sit down. I've resorted to laying on the bed with the laptop. Lord only knows how I'll manage when 'nature calls'. Not only that, my hamstrings are buring as well.

The main possitive? Stopping off at the Rodley Barge on the way home and enjoying the beer garden. I probably un-did all my hard work in one swift pint! ;-)

Is my Laptop Dying?

I don't think my laptop is feeling very well - and it doesn't look like a cheap fix.







I've had it for a few years, but went through a phase where I hardly ever used it and as a result, the battery ran out just tyring to keep the clock running. Part of that was because I couldn't be bothered setting the WiFi up so I had to be plugged into the router all the time, but the main reason was that because it was running 256MB of RAM on Windoze XP, it took four days to to open an Excel document.

But I got it upgraded and now use it more often. The problem is, the battery seems as it's on it's last legs.
The other day it lasted about 30 mins. I've changed the power settings to something a bit more energy conservative, but a new battery looks to be around the corner.

A quick Googlle search points me in the direction of Partmaster, owned by the same firm as extended warranty seller Currys. They'll happily provide me with a new battery, for the princely sum of £85 - and that was one of the better deals!

Looks like my mains adapter will be working overtime in the next few weeks.

What is Paris Hilton?

Over the past week or so, BBC Radio One have been constantly playing the track to signal the pop music debut of Paris Hilton - The Stars are Blind.











Whilst every fibre in my body says I should absolutely hate this song, it's one of those irritating tracks that keeps cropping up and when it does, it's in your head for the whole day.

But what is Paris Hilton? What does she actually do?
Well, she's had a dabble in just about anything you can imagine when it comes to the entertainment industry.
When she's not starring in flop movies, filming herself and her boyfriend - and selling the resulting tape or playing a part dodgy American sitcoms, she's probably flogging mobile phones, magazines or peddling her own brands of jewellery and perfume or getting people into her nightclubs.

Aside from that, she's usually busy being involved in numerous PR gaffes through simple 'forgetfullness', like lecturing the youth of America the importance of voting, yet forgetting to register, let alone turn up at the polling booth. Oh, and forgetting to organise a charity event for seriously ill children.

She's also, it's fair to say, a bit of a sex symbol. Lets face it, most blokes would like to spend a night inside Paris Hilton (eh, see what I did there ;) and she knows it, which possibly explains the pop single.
I wonder what Hilton's career advisor said to her at school? Was she that stuck for something to do that she just thought "Oh sod it, I'll do everything!" Fair play to her, it's made money, but if I had a very generous business bank manager (ie, a rich dad), then I dare say I could have made a few million.

Anyway, as I said, the song is pap. It's rubbish and I only hope that Radio One stop playing it.

We're all Going on a Summer Holiday

Not long to go now, just a week and four days to be precise, until the family getaway to sunny Mallorca and I can't wait!










It's a family trip, which means no drunken antics and I've got to behave to a degree, but at least my wallet won't take quite the hit that it does on a lads weekend away.

We'll be staying in Santa Ponsa, which is on the East Coast of Mallorca. We've stayed in nearby Cala Bona before and also Alcudia and the reviews we've read on Holiday's Uncovered have been very impressive.
We've already got some of our 'excursions' planned as well. Every year we go to the 'Son Amar' which is a huge show with dancers, singers, acrobats, magicians and lots of food (and complimentary wine). We've been twice already and it's a brilliant night out. Much better that a West End show and you'll come away with more change to boot.
On the Sunday, it's the Challenge Cup Semi-Final between Leeds and Huddersfield, so the search for a bar showing the game has already begun! Thankfully, we didn't draw Saints, otherwise I'd be toying with the idea of getting a flight back for the semi-Final, then flying back afterward, but it's only Huddersfield so the magic of Sky TV will suffice.

Now's the time I need to start getting stuff ready. I've done most of the shopping needed, and the packing can wait a little, but I'll need to head out for the Euro's shortly.

This is the worst bit though, counting down. That last day at work before I fly out will drag like hell!

Now Now Children, Don't Fight

This on-going saga between Zinedine Zidane and Marco Materazzi really is getting tedious. Think of it as one of those play-ground squabbles that people just won't shut up about.



If you have been living under a rock since Sunday afternoon, let me explain. During extra-time in Sunday's World Cup Final, French superstar Zinedine Zidane and Italian defender Marco Materazzi had a little bit of an argument. They were chuntering things to each other when Zidane launched a powerful headbut into the chest of Materazzi. After much diiberation and no doubt an smidge of video evidence, Zindane was sent-off. Italy went on to win the World Cup.

The aftermath of that night's events is still ongoing, with the main question being asked is what did Materazzi do or say to end up on the recieving end of the Frenchman's noggin?
Practically ever national newspaper has been consulting lip reading experts and the general concensus is that Materazzi made a reference to Zidane's mother and labelled her a terrorist.

Today, "Zi-Zu" promises to bare all in true 'Jerry-Springer-American-TV-Chat-Show' style, not before coming out in the press today proclaiming how he want's Materazzi's "balls on a platter." Classy.

Now, whilst I don't condone racism (if that is what Materazzi has said), I also don't really condone violence or retaliation. Zidane might claim his justification in what he did, just as the Rooney apologists are justifying stamping on another professional's genetalia, but he's far from in the right.
Materazzi is the winner here. He's the one with the World Cup Winners medal, he's the one who's career didn't end so spectacuarly infront of 75,000 people as well as hundereds of millions of people watching on TV across the world.

Zidane's actions cost France the World Cup, his dismissal came at a time when France were on-top and his actions gave Italy the momentum to go on and win. Had Zidane ignored it, reported the slur afterwards, then he'd probably be sat right now with a second winners medal, whilst Materazzi would be under investigation for racist remarks.

Now the handbag throwing continues, and won't stop for a good while yet. What Materazzi actually did is up for debate, but Zidane has no excuse for complaint. There is no place on any sporting field for such a physical attack and if Zidane thinks otherwise, then he should quickly fall into obscurity before he show's himself up even more.

How Did I Do?

As the World Cup bandwagon gets packed up this morning to start it's journey out of Germany and into South Africa, let's visit my predictions one last time.








Overall, I've got two predictions absolutly spot on, which automatically makes me over-qualified to be a ITV Sports pundit. The others, the less said the better. One would be percieved as completely "out there" whilst the others were just down to the respective teams and players not being half as good as I first envisaged.

Anyway, whilst I may be no Nostradamus, I'm fairly happy with what I prophesied.

The one's I got right:
Germany to finish in third place,
Miroslav Klose to win the Golden Boot.

The one's I got not-so right:
Brazil to win it,
Czech Republic to be second,
Ronaldinho to be the player of the tournament,
England to packed up and back over here after the second round.

So a 33% success rate, I should be getting a call from BBC Sport anytime soon ;)

A Busy Sporting Weekend

Over the next week, there'll be a fair bit of rivalry around LS6, as two big matches take place at Headingley, both with important in their own right.









Firstly, Friday see's what many people (excluding those in St Helens and Wigan) proclaim as the biggest derby in Rugby League. Leeds Rhinos take on Bradford Bulls in the race for a Super League play-off spot. The Rhinos, in forth are starting to string a few performances together, have a stable looking team with players in reserve and have closed the gap on St Helens at the top to just two points.
However, the same can't be said of Bradford.
Odsal hasn't really been the most harmonious of places in 2006. The season didn't really start well to be honest, despite some confidence within the camp. First their outspoken Chairman Chris Caisley left, several players, including Great Britain International's Sturat Reardon and Leon Pryce during the off-season.
As the season got underway, coach Brian Noble walked away from the club he served as a player and coach for over 15 years, taking what is regarded as the worlds best forward in Stuart Fielden to Wigan with him. Add to that runmours of financial trouble and a high court case hanging over the club and captain Iestyn Harris and you could argue that the Bulls will do well to hold on the the forth spot that they currently occupy.

That said, Headingley will be packed on Friday night. Form counts for nothing in games like this and it'll be 17 against 17 for a solid 80 minutes. Leeds v Bradford games are always games worth watching, even if Sky TV think overwise and it should be a pulsatng encounter.

After the dust has settled there, Headingley hosts the famous 'Roses' clash in Cricket's Twenty20 Cup. I alluded to the rivalry in an earlier post, but the bottom line is that you don't want to lose a Yorkshire vs Lancashire clash, regardless of the competition.
What makes this match even more interesting is that it'll be "Part II". The sides meet on Friday night at Old Trafford. Revenge will no doubt be on the mind of one of the sides come Tuesday evening.

Here's to two home celebrations at Headingly in the next few days!

Fadtastic!

Yesterday we had one of those great conversations down the local pub. We weere reminiscing about past times, as you do, when we got on to the topic of the 'fads' or 'crazes' of our time.




I like to think that despite my young years, I've seen a fair few fads and gimmicks. Those toys or trends that one week would be the talk of the school playground and then be completely forgotten the week later (if the headteacher hadn't banned them from school before then).

Always a favourite in our school was Premier League stickers. Every break groups would huddle around each other (not in a homo-erotic way you understand) and the only two words you'd ever hear were "got" and "need". Each collector had photographically memorised which sticker they needed and for 10 minutes, all you would here someone say is "Got, got, got, got, got, got, got, got, got, got, got, got..need" As soon as the "need" came out, the bartering would begin.

The general rule of currency in our school was that cards were swapped like-for-like, bigger stickers were worth 2 small ones and shinys were worth 3 small ones or two big ones. However, the trick was never to let on that you DESPERATLY needed this one sticker to fill a page in your book. If you did, you would be held to ransom big time. It was fairly common for someone to lose their entire collection of swapsies, just to get the one sticker.

There was also Pogs, remember them? I think they started out in cereal packets, before some brightspark decided that they could sell 6 pieces of cardboard, about the size of a £2 coin, for £2.50 a pack. The idea was to stack your Pogs in a pile on the floor, and use a plastic 'killer' or 'slammer' to try and flip them over. You got to keep any that got flipped. They also made metal killers but our school banned them when one bounced up from the ground, hit someone in the mouth and chipped his tooth! Pogs eventually got banned altogether at our school as the cry-babies cried when they lost their pogs because they were rubbish.

What else was there? Oh yes, Tamagotchi's! These were also called 'cyber pets' and were little computer games that simulated the experience of looking after a pet, just without having to clear up the shit. It wasn't long that they lasted before incurring the wrath of the headteacher either, after umpteen lesson disruptions.

I also remember Yo-yo's making a brief return not so long ago. Put again, if I remember rightly, another tooth related mishap also put paid to that little craze. I think I've still got at least one of my yo-yo's still in the loft somewhere, unless I took them all to the car-boot sale.

There were others as well which I could go on about. I sort of missed out on 'marbles', never bothered with Pokemon cards and only vaugly remember 'clackers'. You know, two balls of resin, attached to a string and the idea is to wave them above your head like a manic - what could possible go wrong? I bet Britain's dentists were laughing all the way to the bank when those things came out!

Which is More Useful for England - Wayne Rooney or a 13th Century Children's Toy?

After England bottled yet another World Cup campaign, there were several questions left unanswered. The first and most pertanant questions surrounded Sven Goran-Eriksson's squad selection but I don't really care about that. What I questioned after the penalty shoot-out defeat to Portugal in Gelsenkirchen and yet another red card for their scouse centre-forward was "Which is more useful, Wayne Rooney or a Jack-in-a-box?"



Here's the evidence:

Experience:
Wayne Rooney - 20 years old.
A Jack-in-a-box - Dates back to the 13th century

Physical Attributes:
Wayne Rooney - Flesh
A Jack-in-a-box - Strong, robust wooden body

Temperment:
Both are extremely easy to wind up and often blow their top when provoked.

Abilities:
Rooney - Arguing with referees, players and coaches
Jack - Providing mild amusement to children

Weaknesses:
Rooney - Metatarsals
Jack - Woodworm

Value:
Rooney - Last bought for £27m and thought to be paid £50,000 per week
Jack - Currently selling on eBay for around £15

Often Seen:
Rooney - Outside brothels across Lancashire or in the team bath at least 30 minutes before his teammates
Jack - In a box


So there you have it. A Jack-in-a-box is stronger, more experienced and more cost effective than Wayne Rooney and also spends more time in the box.

Steve McLaren take note.