We don’t have tickets for today’s velodrome programme so we head home and don’t see Trotty clinch Omnium victory by the skin of her teeth. That is until we get home and watch the recording of it.
Oddly the M6 is again fine... I’m sure it’ll bite back at some stage.
We spend a pleasant night in with Daughter before she heads off back to Sheffield tomorrow, having completed her dog sitting assignment. They seems to have enjoyed it, I think she may have done as well despite claims to the contrary.
(Sunday 18th November)
Showing posts with label Chris Hoy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chris Hoy. Show all posts
Sunday, 18 November 2012
Saturday, 17 November 2012
Skin Abrasions
L reckons she ought to run this weekend even though we're away. My opinion is that she didn’t ought to run, no, not at all. She should put her feet up and have a debaucherous weekend where she eats loads, drinks loads and lets herself get led astray by me as often as possible, persistent concierges permitting. She can always hit training hard on Monday.
Clearly a bit knackered from so much debauchery, in this case mainly watching cycling and late night bars, we oversleep and nearly miss breakfast. Which turns out to be a bit naff anyway. Scrambled eggs, sausages and beans does not a full English (or Scottish) make. Oh well, it is only a Holiday Inn I suppose. Then back to bed I think.
Later we wander around Glasgow which is a mix of lovely old buildings, a few new ones and quite a bit of dereliction. The overall impression is very positive though and it’s a much friendlier place than I expected. Compared with London say, that’s assuming the Olympic glow has worn off down there, during which it was really friendly.
We find a pub called the ‘Pot Still’ and where Scotland are getting stuffed in the rugby on the big screen. The locals all seem to be ignoring it or pretending to ignore it. We have a pleasant drink or two and then it’s back to the velodrome for Day 2.
Our two blondes get silver and bronze in the individual sprint. They met in the semi-finals where Jess Varnish won a close battle 2-1 before losing out to the super human thighs of Germany’s Kristina Vogel in the final.
There are crashes galore elsewhere. While Olympic sprint champion Jason Kenny looked totally untroubled in his Keirin semi-final, Lewis Oliva left his on a stretcher after crashing on the final corner which left him with concussion and skin abrasions. We were to see a lot of impressive skin abrasions over the weekend.
Then in the final it was Kenny's turn. When Kenny clipped the back wheel of another rider it was goodbye to a medal and hello to those skin abrasions. He did pick himself up to finish the race fourth on a road bike.
Then it's time to settle down for the Laura Trott show, the Elimination Race. Which early on featured another crash, as a German girl went down hard. First they had to neutralise the race and then stop it completely as she is stretchered off. Then it’s back to Trott for the usual master class and victory. It not hard to see where the bragging rights are in the Trott/Kenny household tonight.
(Saturday 17th November)
Clearly a bit knackered from so much debauchery, in this case mainly watching cycling and late night bars, we oversleep and nearly miss breakfast. Which turns out to be a bit naff anyway. Scrambled eggs, sausages and beans does not a full English (or Scottish) make. Oh well, it is only a Holiday Inn I suppose. Then back to bed I think.
Later we wander around Glasgow which is a mix of lovely old buildings, a few new ones and quite a bit of dereliction. The overall impression is very positive though and it’s a much friendlier place than I expected. Compared with London say, that’s assuming the Olympic glow has worn off down there, during which it was really friendly.
We find a pub called the ‘Pot Still’ and where Scotland are getting stuffed in the rugby on the big screen. The locals all seem to be ignoring it or pretending to ignore it. We have a pleasant drink or two and then it’s back to the velodrome for Day 2.
Our two blondes get silver and bronze in the individual sprint. They met in the semi-finals where Jess Varnish won a close battle 2-1 before losing out to the super human thighs of Germany’s Kristina Vogel in the final.
There are crashes galore elsewhere. While Olympic sprint champion Jason Kenny looked totally untroubled in his Keirin semi-final, Lewis Oliva left his on a stretcher after crashing on the final corner which left him with concussion and skin abrasions. We were to see a lot of impressive skin abrasions over the weekend.
Then in the final it was Kenny's turn. When Kenny clipped the back wheel of another rider it was goodbye to a medal and hello to those skin abrasions. He did pick himself up to finish the race fourth on a road bike.
Then it's time to settle down for the Laura Trott show, the Elimination Race. Which early on featured another crash, as a German girl went down hard. First they had to neutralise the race and then stop it completely as she is stretchered off. Then it’s back to Trott for the usual master class and victory. It not hard to see where the bragging rights are in the Trott/Kenny household tonight.
(Saturday 17th November)
Friday, 10 August 2012
I’ve Earned This. Haven’t I?
It’s Doggo’s birthday today, his 11th, the old git. L promises not to shout at him as he takes even longer than usual over his morning ritual of sniffs and wees. She buys some treats that resemble cheese strings and spring rolls for a birthday treat.
I toast his health as we go for a rare Friday lunch at the pub. The prospect of which had already put paid to an after work run, even before L offers a post work drink as well because she’s in Derby, which puts paid to any cycling as well.
But I’ve earned this. Haven’t I? I've trained quite hard this week. Although there’s a nagging feeling at the back of my mind that is not what Dave Brailsford says to Chris Hoy after a week of two bike rides and a run.
Talking of which. No golds today, only silvers... perhaps Team GB have been down the pub as well.
(Friday 10th August)
I toast his health as we go for a rare Friday lunch at the pub. The prospect of which had already put paid to an after work run, even before L offers a post work drink as well because she’s in Derby, which puts paid to any cycling as well.
But I’ve earned this. Haven’t I? I've trained quite hard this week. Although there’s a nagging feeling at the back of my mind that is not what Dave Brailsford says to Chris Hoy after a week of two bike rides and a run.
Talking of which. No golds today, only silvers... perhaps Team GB have been down the pub as well.
(Friday 10th August)
Tuesday, 7 August 2012
Strict Instructions
L works from home this afternoon and I give her strict instructions to keep prodding the dogs to keep them awake, as I don’t want them disrupting the cycling later.
It doesn’t sound like she’s having much success. They do like a long siesta and apparently there’s not a great deal of life in them. There won’t be in me either by the time I get home. I’m not feeling fit enough to run, but we’ll see. I need to do my bit for Team GB.
Bizarrely I have a really good run home. I just keep going and going. I do 10 miles with no stops in 1:16. Bloody good. Perhaps there was a point to doing Friday’s 10k race after all. On the downside, I stand waiting for a bus, unable to walk and considering vomiting but it was fun...
The medals continue to roll in. Alistair Brownlee becomes the first Briton to win a Gold medal in the Triathlon.
His younger brother, Jonathan, takes Bronze. Meanwhile the Equestrian team win the nation's first Olympic Dressage medal which was Gold, not that I'm even sure what Dressage is.
Then in the velodrome there was Chris Hoy recording a sixth Olympic Gold medal in the Keirin, Victoria Pendleton with Silver in the Sprint and then the Trotty Train crushing all before her in the Omnium.
So the track cyclists match their Beijing tally of seven Gold medals from ten events. Overall that 22 Golds now, three up on four years ago.
High Jumper Robbie Grabarz wins a three way tie for Bronze in the most boring high jump competition ever. Ten of the twelve finalists couldn't get past the third height and Grabarz ended up in a three way tie for bronze because they couldn't even split them on countback. A jump off anyone? The Russian winner was really the only one who distinguished himself.
(Tuesday 7th August)
It doesn’t sound like she’s having much success. They do like a long siesta and apparently there’s not a great deal of life in them. There won’t be in me either by the time I get home. I’m not feeling fit enough to run, but we’ll see. I need to do my bit for Team GB.
Bizarrely I have a really good run home. I just keep going and going. I do 10 miles with no stops in 1:16. Bloody good. Perhaps there was a point to doing Friday’s 10k race after all. On the downside, I stand waiting for a bus, unable to walk and considering vomiting but it was fun...
The medals continue to roll in. Alistair Brownlee becomes the first Briton to win a Gold medal in the Triathlon.
His younger brother, Jonathan, takes Bronze. Meanwhile the Equestrian team win the nation's first Olympic Dressage medal which was Gold, not that I'm even sure what Dressage is.
Then in the velodrome there was Chris Hoy recording a sixth Olympic Gold medal in the Keirin, Victoria Pendleton with Silver in the Sprint and then the Trotty Train crushing all before her in the Omnium.
So the track cyclists match their Beijing tally of seven Gold medals from ten events. Overall that 22 Golds now, three up on four years ago.
High Jumper Robbie Grabarz wins a three way tie for Bronze in the most boring high jump competition ever. Ten of the twelve finalists couldn't get past the third height and Grabarz ended up in a three way tie for bronze because they couldn't even split them on countback. A jump off anyone? The Russian winner was really the only one who distinguished himself.
(Tuesday 7th August)
Monday, 6 August 2012
Special Wheels
The pressure was on Jason Kenny in the Sprint on the track today, having been selected ahead of HRH Chris Hoy, but he delivered a slightly surprising victory over French man mountain Grégory Baugé. I say surprising, which it was pre-Olympics, but having seen the way Kenny was going here, you just knew he was going to pull it off.
The French aren’t happy about that, which makes it all the sweeter. L'Equipe described it as ‘La sodomie’ and then went on to accuse the British of having special wheels. Wheels that are ironically made by Mavic, a French company. Team GB’s Dave Brailsford explained the only thing special about the wheels is that they are very round...
Laura Trott starts her assault on the two day six event Omnium and makes the Elimination Race look so easy, she could probably read a book at the same time.
There’s also Gold for our Showjumping team via a jump-off.
In more mundane matters, it’s the last dog training session before the summer break and L is running in Ockbrook. I shall attempt to run tomorrow.
(Monday 6th August)
The French aren’t happy about that, which makes it all the sweeter. L'Equipe described it as ‘La sodomie’ and then went on to accuse the British of having special wheels. Wheels that are ironically made by Mavic, a French company. Team GB’s Dave Brailsford explained the only thing special about the wheels is that they are very round...
Laura Trott starts her assault on the two day six event Omnium and makes the Elimination Race look so easy, she could probably read a book at the same time.
There’s also Gold for our Showjumping team via a jump-off.
In more mundane matters, it’s the last dog training session before the summer break and L is running in Ockbrook. I shall attempt to run tomorrow.
(Monday 6th August)
Monday, 14 May 2012
A Very Big Sofa
Apparently LOCOG or whatever they call themselves have found some spare tickets down the back of the Olympic sofa. About 900,000 of them. It’s a very big sofa. So this morning I make use of my exclusive ‘presale’ window. How this be a presale when it’s after the original ballot and after the secondary sales window earlier this year... I have no idea but never mind.
It is with a heavy heart, e.g. huge expectations of failure (again), that I log on to my exclusive window, just me and approximately one million others.
I’m after track cycling, which everybody is after of course, just because they once saw Sir Chris or Vicky P in Lyrca and thought I’ll have ticket for some of that, so naturally I am correct in assuming it will be another unsuccessful attempt.
It’s also another battle with the unfathomable Ticketmaster. I promise I’ll never ever slag off SeeTickets again. I avoid Ticketmaster like the plague for gig tickets for the same reason that it’s a disaster for Olympics tickets. First there’s their obsession with ‘captcha’ and it always takes me three attempts to solve the puzzle, which in Olympic ticket buying terms is valuable seconds lost.
Then there’s their annoying way of being incapable of updating availability in real time, sometimes you suspect with Ticketmaster even in the same week is beyond them. So you pick your event, your price range and how many you want and press the button marked ‘beg’. It tells you to go for a long slow walk around the block while it consults the tea leaves in the bottom of the Ticketmaster mug before coming and saying ‘nope, not go any of those’. It doesn’t say ‘we haven’t got 4 but you can have 2’, or ‘we haven’t got any at £20 but we have some at £40’. It doesn’t even say ‘we haven’t got any tickets at all for that event you moron, what are you even trying for?’
Well I’m trying because your website says you have availability in ALL price categories, so I sort of assumed you had availability in all price categories. No? Well perhaps you did last Friday but clearly you haven’t bothered to update it since. So I change my criteria and try again, in an attempt to unlock the perfect combination that might yield me a back row restricted view seat in the velodrome behind a bunch of Moldovans who probably got theirs for nothing because no one’s heard of the Olympics in Moldova.
Each time you have to manually empty your shopping basket because it won’t let you put a second set in there until you take out the ones they haven’t got. You’d think it would do this for you. More valuable seconds lost.
Eventually with Ticketmaster still showing full availability in all categories I give and go check the comments on the BBC website to try to find someone who’s more miserable than me. Only to come up against some smartarse saying how easy it all was. Crowing about how they bagged front rows seats and a night out with Jess Varnish, all in under 30 seconds and still had change from ten grand. We all love the London Olympics.
Plan FF is Thursday and a punt on either Triathlon or Modern Pentathlon tickets. Don’t hold your breath.
I wonder if that Nottingham lad who was trying to give away the £1,000 romantic holiday for two to Malta after his girlfriend dumped him thought about swapping it for Olympic tickets. Perhaps he’s already got Olympic tickets. Perhaps when they split she got the Olympic tickets and he got Malta. No wonder he doesn’t fancy going any more.
The afternoon’s entertainment is Daughter dashing (well sort of) around Sheffield, trying to find a Co-Op bank, trying to extract enough money from them to pay her rent and then taking it to her landlords office by 5pm, having not started until about 2.30. All the time I’m assisting her by text. It reminds me mightily of Treasure Hunt with Anneka Rice back in 80’s for some reason, only without the helicopter.
I was beginning to wonder if she’d get there before 5pm but she did, with time to spare in the end. So at least that challenge went to plan.
No dog class, I take the boys on the park instead.
(Monday 14th May)
It is with a heavy heart, e.g. huge expectations of failure (again), that I log on to my exclusive window, just me and approximately one million others.
I’m after track cycling, which everybody is after of course, just because they once saw Sir Chris or Vicky P in Lyrca and thought I’ll have ticket for some of that, so naturally I am correct in assuming it will be another unsuccessful attempt.
It’s also another battle with the unfathomable Ticketmaster. I promise I’ll never ever slag off SeeTickets again. I avoid Ticketmaster like the plague for gig tickets for the same reason that it’s a disaster for Olympics tickets. First there’s their obsession with ‘captcha’ and it always takes me three attempts to solve the puzzle, which in Olympic ticket buying terms is valuable seconds lost.
Then there’s their annoying way of being incapable of updating availability in real time, sometimes you suspect with Ticketmaster even in the same week is beyond them. So you pick your event, your price range and how many you want and press the button marked ‘beg’. It tells you to go for a long slow walk around the block while it consults the tea leaves in the bottom of the Ticketmaster mug before coming and saying ‘nope, not go any of those’. It doesn’t say ‘we haven’t got 4 but you can have 2’, or ‘we haven’t got any at £20 but we have some at £40’. It doesn’t even say ‘we haven’t got any tickets at all for that event you moron, what are you even trying for?’
Well I’m trying because your website says you have availability in ALL price categories, so I sort of assumed you had availability in all price categories. No? Well perhaps you did last Friday but clearly you haven’t bothered to update it since. So I change my criteria and try again, in an attempt to unlock the perfect combination that might yield me a back row restricted view seat in the velodrome behind a bunch of Moldovans who probably got theirs for nothing because no one’s heard of the Olympics in Moldova.
Each time you have to manually empty your shopping basket because it won’t let you put a second set in there until you take out the ones they haven’t got. You’d think it would do this for you. More valuable seconds lost.
Eventually with Ticketmaster still showing full availability in all categories I give and go check the comments on the BBC website to try to find someone who’s more miserable than me. Only to come up against some smartarse saying how easy it all was. Crowing about how they bagged front rows seats and a night out with Jess Varnish, all in under 30 seconds and still had change from ten grand. We all love the London Olympics.
Plan FF is Thursday and a punt on either Triathlon or Modern Pentathlon tickets. Don’t hold your breath.
I wonder if that Nottingham lad who was trying to give away the £1,000 romantic holiday for two to Malta after his girlfriend dumped him thought about swapping it for Olympic tickets. Perhaps he’s already got Olympic tickets. Perhaps when they split she got the Olympic tickets and he got Malta. No wonder he doesn’t fancy going any more.
The afternoon’s entertainment is Daughter dashing (well sort of) around Sheffield, trying to find a Co-Op bank, trying to extract enough money from them to pay her rent and then taking it to her landlords office by 5pm, having not started until about 2.30. All the time I’m assisting her by text. It reminds me mightily of Treasure Hunt with Anneka Rice back in 80’s for some reason, only without the helicopter.
I was beginning to wonder if she’d get there before 5pm but she did, with time to spare in the end. So at least that challenge went to plan.
No dog class, I take the boys on the park instead.
(Monday 14th May)
Sunday, 8 April 2012
Pushy Parent
Unlike Christmas, Easter sort of just appears almost out of nowhere. Christmas is a tidal wave that gathers momentum from the summer until it has engulfed everything in its path and brings the country to a standstill. Easter meanwhile, just happens. Crème eggs and hot cross buns are a 365 days a year thing anyway but they're easy to ignore because every aisle isn't draped in tinsel. Easter just happens, we get on with it and we get over it. I quite like Easter.
You can even get a table to eat out, so after a lazy morning:- coffee in bed etc, park, Chris Hoy, we head over to Leamington for lunch with Son and his squeeze. We even potentially land him a job interview at the pub we have lunch in. How good is that? All thanks to L being a pushy parent, Son would probably never have got around to applying for the job, even though were in the place at the time with a board outside saying 'job available here now'.
Back to Hoy, he wins the Keirin by squeezing through a gap that even the minuscule Laura Trott may have not have got through. Perhaps she’s been giving him lessons. Also on the final day there’s silver for Wendy Houvenaghel in the individual pursuit, silver for Ben Swift (again) and Geraint Thomas in the Madison and bronze for Jess Varnish in the 500 but still we’re slightly eclipsed by Australia.
(Sunday 8th April)
You can even get a table to eat out, so after a lazy morning:- coffee in bed etc, park, Chris Hoy, we head over to Leamington for lunch with Son and his squeeze. We even potentially land him a job interview at the pub we have lunch in. How good is that? All thanks to L being a pushy parent, Son would probably never have got around to applying for the job, even though were in the place at the time with a board outside saying 'job available here now'.
Back to Hoy, he wins the Keirin by squeezing through a gap that even the minuscule Laura Trott may have not have got through. Perhaps she’s been giving him lessons. Also on the final day there’s silver for Wendy Houvenaghel in the individual pursuit, silver for Ben Swift (again) and Geraint Thomas in the Madison and bronze for Jess Varnish in the 500 but still we’re slightly eclipsed by Australia.
(Sunday 8th April)
Saturday, 7 April 2012
Studently
Today I can be studently with L and lounge in bed. Meanwhile our Sheffield student has to go to work, ha ha, and much to her disgust, dressed in black.
Well actually, I get up at 10am and lounge studently in front of the live cycling. Omnium Gold for Laura Trott. Medals too for Jason Kenny and Chris Hoy in the Sprint but neither of them gold. Kenny’s beating of Hoy in the semi-finals looked decisive enough to me to deny Hoy getting the Olympics gig in the sprint but then what do I know. Then it was that man Ben Swift again with a hard-earned silver in the Points race.
Eventually I take the boys on the park and then head off to the match, which is a very typical end of season style 0-0 draw. Then I head straight up to Sheffield by train. It’s only 30 minutes by train from Derby, which is a lot quicker than driving. Yet the train takes almost an hour from Nottingham.
I meet L outside Sheffield station, where she is sat with Daughter’s huge bag, full mainly of books, wrapped around the middle with packing tape. Running repairs have clearly been required. Somehow L has managed to get it from home onto the train.
We embark on a joint baggage pull and wheel it the half a mile or so to Daughter’s flat. It doesn’t quite make it, one of the wheels collapses before we get there, but we drag it against its will the rest of the way.
Daughter has, by the time we get there, crawled home from work. Not that it's far, it’s only really across the road from her. She's had the ‘day from hell’. Apparently they’ve had her scrubbing walls. Ah good, I’ve always been in favour of hard labour for teenagers. She glosses over the good bits of her day. Bar work, waitressing etc.
As she sits in front of her TV, half asleep, in her PJs. Well actually L’s PJs, clearly recently half-hinched from home. It doesn’t look like she’ll be moving anywhere any time soon. What happened to her night out on the town with us?
So we set out on our Sheffield pub crawl without her. First stop the Devonshire Cat, which is very good. Plenty of real ales, their own extensive foreign beer menu and some decent food.
We could have stayed all night but we move on to nearby Henrys. The name didn't really inspire and despite a promising range of ale, we’re not that impressed with the place. Next, the Old House, which is a very nice place with again a good mix of British and Foreign beers. They refuse to serve L a Westmalle Belgian ale in anything but its correct glass, so we wait whilst they fetch fresh glassware from the storeroom. Nice touch. The wrong glass syndrome is something that does annoy us a lot in Nottingham.
Finally we move closer to the station to ensure we don’t miss our train home. There’s no chance of that with the Sheffield Tap being on the actual platform. It’s effectively a remote Brewery Tap for the Thornbridge Brewery. Enough said. Oddly L doesn’t have Jaipur but there are plenty of other beers of theirs (and from other breweries) to choose from.
(Saturday 7th April)
Well actually, I get up at 10am and lounge studently in front of the live cycling. Omnium Gold for Laura Trott. Medals too for Jason Kenny and Chris Hoy in the Sprint but neither of them gold. Kenny’s beating of Hoy in the semi-finals looked decisive enough to me to deny Hoy getting the Olympics gig in the sprint but then what do I know. Then it was that man Ben Swift again with a hard-earned silver in the Points race.
Eventually I take the boys on the park and then head off to the match, which is a very typical end of season style 0-0 draw. Then I head straight up to Sheffield by train. It’s only 30 minutes by train from Derby, which is a lot quicker than driving. Yet the train takes almost an hour from Nottingham.
I meet L outside Sheffield station, where she is sat with Daughter’s huge bag, full mainly of books, wrapped around the middle with packing tape. Running repairs have clearly been required. Somehow L has managed to get it from home onto the train.
We embark on a joint baggage pull and wheel it the half a mile or so to Daughter’s flat. It doesn’t quite make it, one of the wheels collapses before we get there, but we drag it against its will the rest of the way.
Daughter has, by the time we get there, crawled home from work. Not that it's far, it’s only really across the road from her. She's had the ‘day from hell’. Apparently they’ve had her scrubbing walls. Ah good, I’ve always been in favour of hard labour for teenagers. She glosses over the good bits of her day. Bar work, waitressing etc.
As she sits in front of her TV, half asleep, in her PJs. Well actually L’s PJs, clearly recently half-hinched from home. It doesn’t look like she’ll be moving anywhere any time soon. What happened to her night out on the town with us?
So we set out on our Sheffield pub crawl without her. First stop the Devonshire Cat, which is very good. Plenty of real ales, their own extensive foreign beer menu and some decent food.
We could have stayed all night but we move on to nearby Henrys. The name didn't really inspire and despite a promising range of ale, we’re not that impressed with the place. Next, the Old House, which is a very nice place with again a good mix of British and Foreign beers. They refuse to serve L a Westmalle Belgian ale in anything but its correct glass, so we wait whilst they fetch fresh glassware from the storeroom. Nice touch. The wrong glass syndrome is something that does annoy us a lot in Nottingham.
Finally we move closer to the station to ensure we don’t miss our train home. There’s no chance of that with the Sheffield Tap being on the actual platform. It’s effectively a remote Brewery Tap for the Thornbridge Brewery. Enough said. Oddly L doesn’t have Jaipur but there are plenty of other beers of theirs (and from other breweries) to choose from.
(Saturday 7th April)
Saturday, 19 February 2011
Land Of The Farmers
Today is part one of our UK tour visiting Daughter’s prospective universities. Well, UK is perhaps a bit over the top, it’s mainly Yorkshire or as Daughter now, not quite accurately, puts it ‘the land of the farmers’. Apparently I didn’t tell her three out of the five were in Yorkshire and of course they don’t do Geography at school these days.
First up, Sheffield Hallam, where it’s snowing. Which is nice but doesn’t help disperse the image of us being in the back of beyond. The university seems ok, although it’s not the main city campus but the course appears interesting. Well it does to me but I’m not the one studying. The accommodation is wonderful, certainly not back of beyond stuff and not a tractor in sight. Just the Leadmill (next door!), the Academy, the Plug, dozens of bars, the city centre... L and I are sorely tempted to take one of those cosy rooms and send Daughter elsewhere.
We stay in tonight, another bloody race tomorrow and I watch day two of the cycling. The highlight obviously is Chris Hoy’s convincing victory in the Keirin but the 'entertainment' comes in the carnage that unfolds behind him as the other five riders all fall.
A race to the line involving the walking wounded ensued, mainly on foot not bike, in an attempt to gain valuable Olympic qualification points.
Malaysian rider Azizulhasni Awang is helped back onto his bike by his coach and carries on to win bronze. Neither he, not his coach, noticed that his calf had been impaled on a 20cm ‘splinter’ of wood from the track. Ugh.
After crossing the line he was stretchered away and was unable to receive his bronze medal on the podium. Apparently the medics left it in all night, ugh again, and removed it the next morning.
(Saturday 19th February)
First up, Sheffield Hallam, where it’s snowing. Which is nice but doesn’t help disperse the image of us being in the back of beyond. The university seems ok, although it’s not the main city campus but the course appears interesting. Well it does to me but I’m not the one studying. The accommodation is wonderful, certainly not back of beyond stuff and not a tractor in sight. Just the Leadmill (next door!), the Academy, the Plug, dozens of bars, the city centre... L and I are sorely tempted to take one of those cosy rooms and send Daughter elsewhere.
We stay in tonight, another bloody race tomorrow and I watch day two of the cycling. The highlight obviously is Chris Hoy’s convincing victory in the Keirin but the 'entertainment' comes in the carnage that unfolds behind him as the other five riders all fall.
A race to the line involving the walking wounded ensued, mainly on foot not bike, in an attempt to gain valuable Olympic qualification points.
Malaysian rider Azizulhasni Awang is helped back onto his bike by his coach and carries on to win bronze. Neither he, not his coach, noticed that his calf had been impaled on a 20cm ‘splinter’ of wood from the track. Ugh.
After crossing the line he was stretchered away and was unable to receive his bronze medal on the podium. Apparently the medics left it in all night, ugh again, and removed it the next morning.
(Saturday 19th February)
Friday, 18 February 2011
Up The Blondes
L goes into work for a few hours whilst I take the dogs for a game of footie on the park. When I drive up to meet her later I notice that there is a lad on almost every road junction wearing a pizza box. There’s nothing unusual in that actually but they all seem to have scarves over faces and some even have balaclavas. Sinister.
We collect my parents and head up to Manchester for the Track Cycling. I’ve thought for some time that my father would enjoy a day out at the cycling, although it’ll be exhausting for me explaining all the various different competitions. What I didn’t expect was my mother to be so keen to join us. The more the merrier.
It’s an exciting days racing but a long one, especially for my parents, we don’t drop them back at home until 1.30am. It doesn’t help that they decide to close the velodrome between the day and evening sessions this year, evicting all the supporters into an area of Manchester where there is nothing to see or do except go to Asda for tea. Unfortunately Asda are yet again woefully unprepared for the deluge of hungry cycling fans. This event has been on the calendar for many a year now, so you’d have thought they’d have got the hang of it by now.
As for the cycling, the Women’s Pursuit Team go very close to the world record in winning Great Britain's first gold medal of the weekend.
Then Chris Hoy and Jason Kenny clash in an all-British semi-final in the sprint and Kenny impressively defeats Hoy. Unfortunately Frenchman Kevin Sireau has too much for Kenny in the final. Hoy recovers to take bronze.
Geraint Thomas gets the crowd going in the individual pursuit final, storms off into a huge lead over his opponent Australia’s Rohan Dennis and is on course for a world record... Unfortunately he’s gone off too fast, fades and Dennis overhauls him with only a few laps to go.
‘We’re still hungry 4 Vicky’ proclaims a banner, they’re referring to Victoria Pendleton of course, who with Shanaze Reade makes up our potential Olympic sprint team pairing. I’m not sure about Vicky myself, so let’s talk about two young blondes instead. Pendleton and Reade are surprisingly under par and only qualify eighth, and are soundly beaten by our other British pairing of Jess Varnish and Becky James, who qualify fourth quickest and get to race for bronze. Yay, up the blondes. Unfortunately they lose to France.
We nearly didn’t stay for the last event, the third part of the Omnium, cycling answer to athletics’ decathlon but with six events. In the elimination race, last place is knocked out every two laps and it was well worth staying for. It’s one thing trying to stay in the lead of a race, quite another to avoid being last. The whole idea was an accident waiting to happen, which thankfully didn’t happen, but was great to watch. With two left GB’s Ben Swift was still there before finally being beaten into second place on the last lap.
Now just for the long drive home.
(Friday 18th February)
We collect my parents and head up to Manchester for the Track Cycling. I’ve thought for some time that my father would enjoy a day out at the cycling, although it’ll be exhausting for me explaining all the various different competitions. What I didn’t expect was my mother to be so keen to join us. The more the merrier.
It’s an exciting days racing but a long one, especially for my parents, we don’t drop them back at home until 1.30am. It doesn’t help that they decide to close the velodrome between the day and evening sessions this year, evicting all the supporters into an area of Manchester where there is nothing to see or do except go to Asda for tea. Unfortunately Asda are yet again woefully unprepared for the deluge of hungry cycling fans. This event has been on the calendar for many a year now, so you’d have thought they’d have got the hang of it by now.
As for the cycling, the Women’s Pursuit Team go very close to the world record in winning Great Britain's first gold medal of the weekend.
Sarah Storey, Wendy Houvenaghel and Joanna Rowsell
Then Chris Hoy and Jason Kenny clash in an all-British semi-final in the sprint and Kenny impressively defeats Hoy. Unfortunately Frenchman Kevin Sireau has too much for Kenny in the final. Hoy recovers to take bronze.
Chris Hoy and Jason Kenny
Geraint Thomas gets the crowd going in the individual pursuit final, storms off into a huge lead over his opponent Australia’s Rohan Dennis and is on course for a world record... Unfortunately he’s gone off too fast, fades and Dennis overhauls him with only a few laps to go.
‘We’re still hungry 4 Vicky’ proclaims a banner, they’re referring to Victoria Pendleton of course, who with Shanaze Reade makes up our potential Olympic sprint team pairing. I’m not sure about Vicky myself, so let’s talk about two young blondes instead. Pendleton and Reade are surprisingly under par and only qualify eighth, and are soundly beaten by our other British pairing of Jess Varnish and Becky James, who qualify fourth quickest and get to race for bronze. Yay, up the blondes. Unfortunately they lose to France.
Jess Varnish
We nearly didn’t stay for the last event, the third part of the Omnium, cycling answer to athletics’ decathlon but with six events. In the elimination race, last place is knocked out every two laps and it was well worth staying for. It’s one thing trying to stay in the lead of a race, quite another to avoid being last. The whole idea was an accident waiting to happen, which thankfully didn’t happen, but was great to watch. With two left GB’s Ben Swift was still there before finally being beaten into second place on the last lap.
Now just for the long drive home.
(Friday 18th February)
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