More Golf at Forest Hills...

A Grand Day Out

Here are some photos from my round (playing with Dave) at Forest Hills Golf Course on Friday 25th August. A very enjoyable golf course with challenging holes that spiral around a mountain or two. This is Dave doing his Tiger impression and smacking his tee shot (some) yards down the fairway (re: into the deep rough).

The beauty of Japanese golf courses - the Beer Drinks Vending Machines! This was after the 6th hole, well really the 15th as we were playing the In Holes first. As you can tell from my shirt, it was bloody hot!


Another nice little addition to playing the round. The Course had computerised hole lay outs which judged your ball distance from the pin. Although clearly the chip couldn't take our play as it broke down with 4 holes to play meaning I was always 128 yards from the pin. If only....

Don't recall precisely which hole this one is, but I believe it is the 134 yard 8th (our 17th). I played my best par 3 tee-shirt in 5 years, but still managed to par the hole. Well, the green was a bit tricky you know...Dave's score was just a tad over mine because he put his ball....

...in the green side bunker! However, he then played a beauty of a sand shot to allow himself to completely mess up his putting, ending with a double bogey. Seriously though, the sand shot was a thing of real beauty. Of course, technically he never touched the ball with his club as quite a lot of sand got in between, but hey the ball still moved!

For modesty's sake I will protect the innocent and not reveal the scorecard. I was happy with my 8 pars though. Dave's putting was also a big improvement on his last round. We await our next 18 holes in September.

Forest Hills Golf & Resort

64-10 Zennyuji, Hongo-Cho, Mihara City, Hiroshima, 729-0416

Tel 0848-86-8222

email: fh-gr@mvg.biglobe.ne.jp

DEH 5 - 1 MJPC

It is not often that Japan can be mistaken for England, but on Sunday July 23rd as the Old Guard turned up at the wet, grass and foggy football pitch overlooking Hiroshima's International Airport, I was whisked back to my Comprehensive school days. More precisely to my 2nd year, when PE was first double period on Tuesdays. We would change in the freezing changing rooms only to realise that it was even worse outside. A scene of Dickensian London would greet us as the pitches were blanketed by mist and covered with frozen permafrost. Thankfully the psychotic Australian exchange teacher from my first year had been sent back to Tasmania (there loss) and Mr Glare would organise unsuccessfully our rugby /football. We used to play in blue then too.

DEH has had what can only be described as a bloody awful start to the season, played 3 lost 3. The last game we conceded 11 goals with only 9 players playing in oven like temperatures after 30 minutes sleep on a broken park bench preceded by England once again screwing up on penalties. I had approached this game with some trepidation, another spanking with a less than full side would have seen my demand for a transfer request. Bayern Munich need a striker...

Yet as we alighted the taxi our sights were lifted in exaltation, not only was it a beautiful grass pitch, but the surface was wet and slippery. Oh heaven. Our captain and my former Hirodai student Yusuke, was there even though the previous week he had sustained a nasty leg injury playing football and was plastered up as they say. We even had 2 substitutes, quickly noted by the more geriatric team members with relief.

DEH has come unstuck against lower-division opposition 2/3 tournaments I have played in. Not sure what makes us more susceptible to giant-killing than other Div B sides, but we have lost to some crap sides. I was a little nervous before kick-off as the opposition looked a) young b) quite fit & c) were kitted out in matching strips. I should not have been so worried. Indeed it was the opposition who looked at our impressively tall 'keeper (making his debut) who towered over even the stick-insects on the team.

After 1 minute DEH was 1-0 up. I won a fortuitous free kick just outside the half way circle. A long punt from the 'keeper was directed towards my head, which is actually a bit of a problem for 3 reasons:

1) I am crap at heading
2) There is no one in front of me for the flick on
3) I can not see the ball to last nanosecond.

On this occasion the referee mistook my lack of jumping as the result of the foul by the defender who ended up climbing over my back, in the not to unrealistic belief that I too would be jumping. The reason I didn't jump was that I didn't realise that the ball was hurtling in my direction.

The free kick was thwacked with speed and skill right into the top left corner. Their 'keeper had no chance. DEH has only ever lost one game in which we have taken the lead, the goal settled the team and we started to ping the ball around. Hurley playing right half (his lingo-showing his age!) was once again looking at home in his new position. The defence was controlled and the midfield had zip and movement. The strikers were winning balls and most unlike DEH, we were using the whole pitch for passes and crosses.

12 minutes after the opening goal, in the 13th minute, the number 13 scored his first goal in 13 matches. I told you it was my lucky number! After harassing from Hurley on the right the ball was passed back to the centre back patrolling just on the edge of the box. A slight mis-controlled from him allowed me to pounce. A touch with my right took the ball into the box, despite the heavy presence of same defender I slotted the ball into the roof of then net. Relief. I am striker I haven't been scoring, I haven't been doing my job for the team and it does grate. One the way back to the re-start Hurley told me that this was then end of my bad luck. It was an accurate assessment because in the 2nd half I was the recipient of some outrageous good fortune.

The glaring difference between my nostalgic lament of English schooldays was the humidity during the game was stifling and un-English like. With the comforting knowledge that I had scored at with some younger legs to come on, Hurley and I volunteered for a half-time rest. The Captain told me I could go on for the last part of the half - and that seemed like a grand idea. A lovely 25 minute rest.

The 2nd half turned out to be very like the 1st. Within a few opening minutes DEH had a free kick. A whipped and curving shot was too good for our on rushing attackers, fortunately it was also far too precise for MJPC's 'keeper who could only watch helplessly as it one bounce took the ball into the top left corner. That won the game.

A fourth goal swiftly followed, again a telling cross from the wing and Hara, our former skipper, delightfully flicked the ball into the bottom left corner. 4-0 and now I was eager to get back on and add to my goals. Hurley seemed quite content to barrack from the sidelines, so half-way through the half I came on for Hara, who had played even better than he usually does.

Our 5th goal was, there is no denying, a bit lucky. By this time Hurley had replaced a creaking Dan, who like all of the 3 Old Guard had played very well. A free kick was awarded 5 yards from the penalty box, slightly on the left. I grabbed the ball. I had never taken a free-kick for DEH before and now seemed the opportune moment. Beckham-esque, I envisioned the ball curling around the wall and bustling in the top corner. I placed the ball, measured my run up and struck the ball...well pretty badly actually. I managed to get quite a bit of side spin and around the wall, but in truth it was pathetic and as I watched it slowly bounce into the 'keeper's hands I turned despondently shouting my apologies. Then heard Dan from behind the goal. The 'keeper perhaps with too much disdain for my free-kick abilities, but more likely through incompetence, had failed to gather the ball clearly. He ended up swatting the ball into the corner of the net. My 2nd goal of the game!

There were a few more chances at either en. MJPC finally scored a consolation goal after twice hitting the woodwork in the game. After a Giggs like run from me on the left, 2 DEH players managed to contrive to fall over the ball and miss an open goal. It didn't matter. An incredibly enjoyable game, played in magnificent conditions and in an excellent spirit set up Hurley and me for the rest of the day. More can be read on this at http://hirohurl.blogspot.com

So Hurley was indeed right with his prediction of my/our luck turning for the better. Indeed, even the mahjong Gods seemed to have taken our side. Finally after a long run of pitiful results both Hurley and myself finished in the black on Friday. The chase to hold on to Noda's coat-tails seems to have been exposed as nothing more than a forlorn hope.

Cheats

The World Cup ended on Sunday, this would normally be a time of introspection, blanking out England's latest failures and saluting the victors who through their genius triumphed over lesser souls. I can't do that today. Italy winning the World Cup has left me with a empty feeling thumping against the pit of my stomach. The sport's champions reflect every nasty wrong currently seen in every league, from the Gods of the game to mortals who hack at each other every Sunday. To misquote the Welsh football commentator Peter Jones;

"Football has died. The Cheats have won."*

I can not take pleasure in the Italians winning, their victory is based not on Marcello Lippi's tactics, but diving and violent play. That FIFA cowed and allowed de Rossi to participate after his deliberate elbow on the USA's Brian McBride is nothing short of disgraceful. Yet why am I surprised? FIFA are more concerned with preening than the good of the game. Italy have won the World Cup, but they are champions in cheating only.

Any player who dives should receive a retrospective red card and a 5 match ban. This would eradicate the cynical type of play that Italy have revelled in. Any player that urges another to be cautioned should be sent off and receive a 3 match ban. Players are gods only through the genius of the play, not the spin on the egos.

*The real quote is "Football has died. The hooligans have won" and was delivered whilst commentating for BBC Radio 2 on the 1985 European Cup Final at the Heysel Stadium in Brussels where 39 supporters were crushed to death. I don't wish to trivialise that awful event, but want to just highlight the emotion behind Italy's victory.

It was a long night....

Matt never one to miss getting laid next to 5 girls...oh and "Skateboard Guy"

It must be an Aussie thing...

Stewie!!!!!!!!!!!

A chapter meeting of the Hiroshima Methodist Club

Aussie Dancing - Marcus Style!!!

Stag Night in Fukuoka...Part 1

Here are some of the photos from the all night drinking and celebate (well...) boys night in Fukuoka to celebrate Nick's wedding...what number is weight watchers....

In the beginning....

...and at the end. (Ben, never one to complain you know...)

The Hiroshima "Bun in the Oven Club"

The Groom....

I'm actually in this one! Although what is Ben doing...?

They charge by the hour you know...

Matt has seen an Englishman!

Gripping....

The Boys, Black Mahjong & Missing Barn Doors.

[Well the Over 40's, (4), the Over 30's (2) and the Toddler (1)]

For more details about the night and debates over the obvious righteousness of World Cup World Qualifying Groups (comments), go to : David's Blog

Monkey Men?

Darwin's The Origin Of the Species is the seminal work in natural or scientific history. (Leaving EH Carr rapidly aside that is) It elevated the human race from the dark ages of Christian omnipotence and liberated European humanity from absurd biblical notions of creationism. His development of the theory of Natural Selection concluded that in simplistic terms, the dominant life form in a given situation would progress at the expense of one that did not have the suitable attributes to adapt and survive. Thus we are down to the last 8 teams in the World Cup, six of whom are previous winners.

England have failed to raise the rooftops, their supporters sing, chant, believe and buy little red & white flags in hope rather than through hard empirical evidence. But what is England's position in the footballing world? Are we like Darwin going to be remembered for one magnus opus - the 1966 World Cup, or is that just a seminal moment in the scope of our development? Can we become Shakespeare? Macbeth is a seminal work of English literature, but is not Hamlet his magnus opus? Shall 2006 join 1966? Or have we touched the stars already and now our fate is only to look at them in wonder?

Selection has concluded we are superior and luckier than others. Through either, it does not matter which, we are at this moment. The Portuguese await tomorrow, twice recently England has been vanquished, but we have re-emerged. Have we progressed from previous failures? Has nature acquired us with superior skills evolved from our origins? Tomorrow we will know. The games afoot...

Lucky Seven

Whilst trawling through the British Sunday newspapers today, I came across an article proposing that England's World Cup triumph was in the bag because the team was eerily entwined with the number 7. The paper suggested the following reasons:

1) England must win 7 games to win the trophy.

2) The following words all have 7 letters: winners, England, captain and Beckham.

3) The final's on Sunday, the 7th day of the week, in July, the 7th month of the year.

4) The English captain David Beckham will lift the trophy wearing the No.7 shirt
5) England won Group B with 7 points. They will now play Ecuador, which amazingly also has 7

letters in its name!

6) There have only ever been, wait for it, 7 full-time English coaches.

7) England's coach's first name, Svennis, has that's right - 7 letters!*

You must agree that the proof is overwhelming... all the above points are connected with the number 7. Regrettably what they don't explain is why England have played pathetically, disjointedly and seemingly without a coherent defensive system. (are you reading Mr Campbell?)

If the best an English publication can come up with for England's success neglects, form, questionable squad choices, injuries, tactics, ability and skill, whilst relying on numerology then two conclusions can be drawn: 1) England are screwed 2) British Tabloids seriously need new editors.

I await in hope that England can win tonight's game playing well and looking a well-oiled team, or failing that unrealistic expectation we win whilst avoiding a penalty duel as our record is, you could probably have guessed this one - Lost 7.

*From Saturday June 24th's Daily Mirror

England Exasperate (Again...)

Another World Cup game and another dull performance from England. As SS England continues to leak water at an alarming rate there are some obvious questions to as Capt. Smith, sorry Eriksson;

1) Do you have gambling debts to shady men with cockney accents? Otherwise why no Jermain Defoe?

2) Are you are a charlatan?

3) What is 2+ 2?

4) Are you aware how poor Beckham is playing? The odd cross here and there does not make up for glaring deficiencies, for example Sweden first's first goal was scored due to Beckham's inept defensive ability. Perhaps he saw a photo op....

England should get to the Quarter-Finals where they will play Argentina or Holland. Either way it is Good Night Vienna, or perhaps Berlin. Another "golden opportunity" lost....But hey think of the positives! Remember England have a new exciting coach to transform us....oh yeh, sorry that is not going to happen....