The final whistle

It's all over: at Croke Park and on the English Subject Centre Early Career course. Both have been immensely stimulating: Ireland won the rugby and I've learned tons on this course. I'm feeling pretty thick of course, surrounded by these high achievers buzzing with energy, but inspired to do all sorts of new things.

Normally I'd be seething after two days in a bland seminar room, but this time I think I've caught Stockholm syndrome. Perhaps it's because it's not the partisans from The Hegemony imposing things arbitrarily but experts in my own field discussing not just the what but also the why and how of our daily practice.

Shame there aren't and won't be any more Early Career academics at my institution for years to come…

I just need a late goal from Stoke and I'll be happy going into the concert tonight.

Hooray, back at work

Morning slackers! Here we are again, back in the belly of the Hegemon and I'm already panicking about the enormous amount of work piling up… lectures, marking, admin, resistance.

Though my weekend was one of those in which cares disappear. When I was a youngster, I despised the booted, hearty types who lit out for the trail whenever possible. A wood fire and a good book were all I ever wanted. So imagine my surprise to find myself bounding out of bed, noting the gale forecast and thinking 'brilliant'. There are few more exhilarating sensations than standing on top of a rocky outcrop in driving rain and rushing wind. If muddiness is an index of fun - we had it.

Where were we? The Cloud, outside Congleton (between Manchester and Stoke). It lived up to its name - the panoramic views available on a clear day were absent, though we could see the Jodrell Bank radio telescope. Lunch was a selection of fine cheeses (thanks Anita) and various other delicacies, taken hunched under a rhododendron.

The other notable spot was the fine neolithic burial chamber we visited, massive and proud. The sun gradually appeared, firstly over Wales, then Liverpool and eventually near us, low and gentle so that the fields glowed bright green as though we were in the glens of Antrim. Then home for a night in the pub not watching Ireland lose to France. At least the rugby draw against Australia the next day was some compensation.

No pictures, as I thought the weather would be too awful to take my camera out. Thanks, as always, to Dan for organising everything. He's now infantilised the Map Twats - we're incapable of buying so much as a bus ticket without him now!

Ron Atkinson changes code

Last one for the day, for all you sports fans. This is from the Irish Times yesterday and demonstrates that the spirit of a certain football commentator is alive and well in other sports too.

Dick Best, former England coach, was asked on Sky Sports News why Delon Armitage was chosen. His response: "You've always got to have a coloured boy in the team".

Never mind the 1950s paternalist racism of 'coloured' and 'boy' (and the ludicrous idea that there's some kind of sporting conspiracy to exclude white players from rugby) , it's Sky's apology that annoyed me.

Co-presenter Millie Clode later apologised, saying "[Best] made remarks he thought were off-camera. We would like to apologise for any offence this may have caused".

A masterpiece of non-apology. The remarks shouldn't have been made on-camera, but are implicitly fine off-camera. Nothing wrong with them. We apologise if you're upset - again implying that the words and sentiment are perfectly acceptable, but that offending people isn't so great. I especially like the 'may' - surely a lot of people are definitely offended? What's wrong with 'Dick Best is a racist. We didn't know, we apologise for his repulsive ravings, and we won't invite him on again'?

(24 days since I wrote to the director for marketing and communications - no reply yet. Perhaps he's tied up with an orange in his mouth like Stephen Milligan).

Work and play and work and play and work and play

Well, it's been a busy few days - and it's going to be busier this week because I'm off to Poland with the England Youth Fencing Team for Challenge Wratislavia 2009 - a coach at midnight tomorrow, check-in at 4.00 for the flight, then four days of happy children's voices ringing in my ears. Don't worry - free wi-fi at the hotel means I'll try to find time for blogging.

Last week:

Books bought: 18. 12 of those (which annoyingly aren't showing up on the Librarything feed to the left) are Neal's fault for arranging to meet me in a bookshop. Most were more Left Book Club editions (I collect them), and one was signed by William Rust, one of the most Stalinist of the British Communist Party's upper echelons. The Morning Star is still published in William Rust House.

Films acted in: 2

Parties attended: 3

Fencing sessions attended: 2

Dark corners hung around in at parties: 3

Games of table football lost to Deep Space Nine-quoting female student: 1

Lectures and seminars delivered with panache: some

Self-inflicted nose-bleeds at parties: 1

Octopus eaten: 1 (not on my own).

Shirts etc. ironed: 14

Stoke City and Ireland victories: 2

Sophisticated Radio 4-loving single women impressed by any of the above: 0

Bye bye Brummies

We may still go down, but I loved the last 3 minutes of Stoke vs. West Brom: they were 2-0 up at 87 minutes and drew 2-2 with us (we've had 4 points from Villa this season!). None of our lot got sent off for a change! The Ireland result was another nailbiter but thoroughly deserved. England must be desperate for Lansdowne Road to reopen. It's about time that the English were massacred in Croke Park for a change!