Running the risk of being accused of being a rabid right wing racist, evil capitalist or "Maggie Shagger" by the guilty (yet affluent) left, I would like to bring to your attention a short story from John Inverdale's (he of the BNP of course) racist (as are all Telegraph writers of course) column in today's Telegraph.
Having come to terms with the guilt of buying (yes buying!!) the brainwashing weapon of the evil right (why are they called right by the way?)
I was then able to focus on the content of Inverdales commentary, and there is a lesson to be learnt by agents in particular that would be of far greater value than any legislation that any small minded w**ker could dream up. It goes:
I used to live in a flat in Lincoln, beneath an old lady who was a cricket fanatic and who, in her dying years, used to yearn for the summer so there were Test matches to watch on the telly. She had met Ian Botham once, when according to her, he had pushed in front of her in a supermarket queue in Scunthorpe, and she'd never forgiven him. For her, no matter what superhuman feats he performed on the field, he was always the man with the bulldozing shopping trolley. First impressions are often the only impressions.
The first time I went to Lord's was for the 1971 Gillette Cup final between Lancashire and Kent - a match made famous by Jackie Bond's swallow-diving catch for Lancashire in the days when players did their utmost not to get grass stains on their whites because biological washing powders barely existed back then.Kent lost, but after the game I rather unwisely tried to get the scorecard autographed by one of their extremely well-known players of the day, who told me in no uncertain terms, and very audibly, to take a running jump.
One of his team-mates intervened and told him not be such a miserable sod, and to sign it. And he then went round other members of the side to get them to do the same. In the intervening 36 years our paths never crossed again, so now it will remain a one-and-only memory of a piece of kindness towards a teenager who felt embarrassed and was looking for the nearest hole to crawl in to. So thank you, Bob Woolmer.
I think there are too many Bothams in our industry (without the talent) and not enough Bob Woolmers.
Having come to terms with the guilt of buying (yes buying!!) the brainwashing weapon of the evil right (why are they called right by the way?)
I was then able to focus on the content of Inverdales commentary, and there is a lesson to be learnt by agents in particular that would be of far greater value than any legislation that any small minded w**ker could dream up. It goes:
I used to live in a flat in Lincoln, beneath an old lady who was a cricket fanatic and who, in her dying years, used to yearn for the summer so there were Test matches to watch on the telly. She had met Ian Botham once, when according to her, he had pushed in front of her in a supermarket queue in Scunthorpe, and she'd never forgiven him. For her, no matter what superhuman feats he performed on the field, he was always the man with the bulldozing shopping trolley. First impressions are often the only impressions.
The first time I went to Lord's was for the 1971 Gillette Cup final between Lancashire and Kent - a match made famous by Jackie Bond's swallow-diving catch for Lancashire in the days when players did their utmost not to get grass stains on their whites because biological washing powders barely existed back then.Kent lost, but after the game I rather unwisely tried to get the scorecard autographed by one of their extremely well-known players of the day, who told me in no uncertain terms, and very audibly, to take a running jump.
One of his team-mates intervened and told him not be such a miserable sod, and to sign it. And he then went round other members of the side to get them to do the same. In the intervening 36 years our paths never crossed again, so now it will remain a one-and-only memory of a piece of kindness towards a teenager who felt embarrassed and was looking for the nearest hole to crawl in to. So thank you, Bob Woolmer.
I think there are too many Bothams in our industry (without the talent) and not enough Bob Woolmers.
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