The trip

On Easter weekend, I headed up to Manchester for a weekend seeing some friends and taking in a spot of footy – both non league and the highest echelons of the professional game.

I set out on Friday, going by train from southern England to London, then on to Milton Keynes and Crewe before arriving in Manchester shortly before 8pm. A short walk took me to my accomodation (a friend from college put me up in his flat for two nights) and settled in for the evening.

Saturday – Gigg Lane

My cohorts from across the water on the Emerald Isle, siblings Jack and Anna – this time accompanied by their dad Brian – arrived on Saturday morning. I had a relaxing morning watching some TV and reading whilst they landed in Manchester and went with Anna to a University open day. Anna starts University in September and is currently considering her choices. I met these wonderful people through the modicum of social media back in 2021 in lockdown, and our mutual love of United has developed into a lasting, and I hope lifelong, friendship. This was my sixth game with Jack, third with Anna and first with their Dad (whom it was great to finally meet).

Whilst she stayed behind to cram in some study for upcoming exams, us three gentlemen took the tram to Bury. Our destination? Gigg Lane, home of Bury FC ‘the Shakers’.

Bury FC – a fallen giant reawakening

On the banks of the River Irwell, the bustling market town of Bury – which is in a Metropolitan Borough also called Bury (still with me) – has an extraordinary tale to tell.

Bury FC won early editions of the FA Cup, twice, and reached the top division in the 20s and 30s. Despite existing in the shadows of giants United, City and the likes of Blackburn and Bolton Wanderers, the people here took great pride in the exploits of their hometown team.

But in 2019, when in League One the world caved in on the Shakers of Bury when they were expelled from the Football League due to unpaid debts and a series of poor ownership decisions.

Gigg Lane, the club’s famous old ground and their home since 1885, was sold off.

Homeless and with no ground, no players, coaches or a league to play in, Bury fought on.

In the true spirit of non league football, the community rallied round to ensure the name of Bury lived on.

Rising from the wreckage, a phoenix club was started by a fan-owned group and a new company called Bury AFC was born.

Merging with the existing, but dormant, Bury FC, the new club applied to join the tenth tier of English football.

It is here Bury have played in since re-forming in 2023, in the North West Counties Football League.

A historic occasion

We arrive at Gigg Lane, purchased by the same unstinting group of Shakers who ensured their beloved club would never die.

Today is Bury’s last match of a historic season. They sit top of the NWCFL Premier Division with 106 points, over 100 goals scored and 32 wins from 45 games, needing only a point for the title, promotion and the start of their long road back.
Everything about Bury is befitting of a higher level – their fanbase, their ground, the professional feeling of their setup and the team itself. Over 8,000 are here today – simply extraordinary for a non league game at this level.

Their opponents are Burscough, sitting in midtable and with nothing but pride to play for. It is a game Bury are expected to win but, in football, as we know, nothing is certain.
Burscough are reduced to ten men early on in the match as their centre-half is sent off in the 19th minute for a two footed lunge in the centre circle and Bury take full advantage. They are clearly too good for this division with a fine team of pace and panache cutting a swathe through their opponents, as they have done all season.

Winger Tyler James struck a hat-trick with another goal by Aiden Walker ensuring a final score of Bury 4, Burscough 0 – up as champions and into the Northern Premier League. Well done to all at Bury

To Old Trafford

We caught the tram back to the city centre before going our separate ways with the promise of the next day’s main event – the small matter of Manchester United vs Wolves – in the rear view mirror.

I awoke early with the air of excitement only a United matchday can bring. Despite our disappointing season, there is nothing on earth like being a Red and you never tire of the Old Trafford experience. That will never change, it is why we do it and why I have come here. There are brighter days ahead, Manchester United will rise again, and I will be loud and proud to be there when we do.
I meet the others at 11am and we board the tram, a heaving throng of fellow Reds, to Trafford Bar, a short walk from the ground. The sight of the Old Trafford cantilever roof poking out above the Salford skyline as you round the corner -bathed in history and majesty – is one of the finest sights in football.

After a quick pre-match pint (or two) in Morgan’s Bar boozer near the ground, we take the now familiar walk down Sir Matt Busby Way and into the ground for the 2pm kick off.
This is a game which is, to all extents and purposes, a dead rubber – United are putting all our eggs in one Bilbao-shaped basket in Europe – with the remaining league games an afterthought. Wolves are virtually safe from relegation but come to United on a red hot run of form in this battle of the Portuguese bosses.

Manchester United vs Wolves

That lack of jeopardy is in evidence throughout with the rotated Reds putting together some nice build up play and Carrington graduates Harry Amass and Tyler Fredricson catching the eye impressively.
There is a definite sense of ‘After the Lord Mayor’s Show’ with United’s late, late last gasp act of derring do the previous Thursday still fresh in the minds of all of a Red persuasion. United look neat and tidy on the ball but fail to make the most of their possession. Christian Eriksen has our best opening when his free-kick is tipped over the bar by Dan Bentley. A largely uneventful match has 0-0 written all over it, until the 77th minute when Pablo Sarabia’s superb free-kick flies over our wall and into the net. Just our luck: the visitors only shot on target puts them one up.

We do not deserve to lose, but it is the game’s only goal – and, to be fair, it one worthy of winning it or any other. Bruno Fernandes and Mason Mount squander late chances and, with that, the game is done. Another defeat. Our 15th of this Premier League season, and the numbing sense of acceptance is all but gone by the time I board my tram to return to Piccadilly and the train home. Only success in the Europa League can save United’s season, but the risk factor and jeopardy is off the scale – with Athletic Club in the semi finals, it is Bilbao or bust.

I wish the others a fond farewell with the promise we’ll do this all again.

I return to Piccadilly before my onward route to Milton Keynes, Bedford and then down to Brighton where I arrive home shortly before midnight – a long day, but an enjoyable weekend despite the result at Old Trafford.

Eastbourne’s International Airshow, ‘Airbourne’ returned in 2024 for its 30^th year for four days along the seafront in the East Sussex town.
As my local show, I’ve been going to Eastbourne for as long as I can remember, interspersed with the occasional visit further afield, or in the opposite direction down the coast to Bournemouth. My first ‘Airbourne’ was 1997 when the event was just three years old but now, 27 years on, the landscape understandably has shifted beyond all recognition – and not for the better.

Concerns and criticism

This year’s event was the first one in which you could tell the organizers are feeling the financial pinch. Two weeks out from the show, my initial thoughts were I’d never seen such a small, thin line up for what used to be one of the biggest displays in the UK. Whilst the Red Arrows presence on the first day of the show only could not be helped (they’re off to Canada), the lack of an out-and-out replacement was surprising.

There were no helicopter displays, no display teams and only ten items on the list spread out over the four days. With no headline grabbing crowd puller over the weekend days, it was disappointing and a sign this event could sadly be on its last legs unless changes are made. For the big 3-0, it was underwhelming. You would expect the organizers to pull out all the stops to make the 2024 Airbourne edition the best one yet especially given the anniversary.  Instead we had the weakest line-up I’ve seen for years. I understand it’s never going to be the size or scale of RIAT or one of the other major UK shows, but I (and others) felt it should have been bigger given the occasion. Sadly, this year’s airshow was a shadow of its former self and a far cry from the halycon days of yesteryear.

Issues and questions

Don’t get me wrong: the displays we had were good and all the pilots showed off their respective aircraft to the best of their ability. But what we had was small: I’ve never known a display starting at 2.30 have a scheduled hour’s break just to pad things out. I went on Friday: we had the Saab Draken, the Jet Provost, the Grob Tutor and the BBMF Lancaster, then the hour’s interlude before the flying resumed. I would be interested to know the reasons for this: why not just carry things on and keep the display going? It was strange and no justification was given.
I understand small gaps between planes to re-set the airspace, set up communications, adhere to regulation and maybe even build the excitement but an hour? It’s unheard of.

Uncertain times, uncertain future

Eastbourne hang their hat on people buying their programme to fund next year’s show but, at £10 for something you only look at once, this is expensive in the current climate. For context, my RIAT one from two years ago was £8. I happily put a few bits of loose change in the collection buckets but sadly the average working man on the street just does not have an endless pit of money. This isn’t the only issue: Eastbourne have (perhaps unintentionally) created a Catch-22 situation. They don’t disclose flight times as they want you to purchase a programme but, in so doing, people don’t know the best time to get there and can’t fully plan their day, so you’re caught in limbo. The bandstand was £40 each and the food and drink was extortionate (although I took my own, so this didn’t matter so much).

I don’t want to make this sound like a constant whinge and there definitely were some great elements to this year’s show. As I’ve mentioned, the eight displays we did have were great, I got in and out perfectly, the weather was grand and there was plenty of space on the beach. I did also like how there were only a few minutes between each display.

The flying displays: Release the Draken!

The flying displays kicked off with the Eastbourne debut of the Saab J-35J Draken from the Swedish Air Force Historic Flight. I’d been lucky enough to see this wonderful historic 60s jet at Bournemouth in 2019 but it’s always a pleasure to see a rare aircraft at a UK show. In the hands of Captain Lars Martinsson, the Draken’s display was short and felt quite distant but still great to see him nonetheless.

Then came a succession of trainers with the RAF Grob Tutor flown by Flt Lt Bob Dewes and the Jet Provost T5 making the most of the gin clear blue skies over Eastbourne.

The tragic loss of one of the BBMF’s Spitfires and its pilot Flt Lt Mark Long has ensured a difficult summer for the iconic crowd pleasers. With the fighters still grounded, there was doubt over the Flight’s participation at Airbourne at all. Fresh from a winter service, the Lancaster could not make the display on Thursday due to high winds at RAF Coningsby pushing the heavy bomber beyond operational limits.

The flying displays: Part 2

This was only the Lanc’s second public outing of the year having returned to action at Blackpool last weekend. The beloved bomber made full use of the glorious weather conditions –  the sun glinting off its surfaces  – throughout a series of stunning passes along the crowd line before departing  to Southend to a standing ovation.

After the aforementioned interlude, the second half of the display got underway with Tony de Bruyn’s surprisingly eye-catching display in his OV-10 Bronco from Belgium. Rich Goodwin’s Jet Pitts is always impressive (even if his jets weren’t working this time) as he pushes the tiny, heavily modified biplane to its considerable limits. Alastair ‘Steg’ Williams produced a flowing solo routine in his lovely P51 Mustang (the Mk.19 Spitfire was sadly unserviceable) with the sight and sound of the famous Rolls-Royce powered fighter always an excellent addition to any airshow.

‘phoon time and final thoughts

But, as ever, it was over to the best of all to close the show in loud and swashbuckling style. David ‘Turbo’ Turnbull brought the seafront to a standstill with a simply stonking, virtuoso performance in the Typhoon. Turbo’s display is the best ‘phoon routine I’ve seen in ages – complete with ‘spluff’ and he climbed out to depart his stage on full reheat to prolonged applause from a captivated audience. I always feel like the Typhoon looks better when displaying over the sea!

Despite my misgivings, there was a lot to like about Airbourne this year. I do think the show would benefit from dropping the Thursday (and even the Friday) for a two-day weekend show. Blackpool and Clacton do this and Bournemouth are dropping to three days in 2024. This would save money, and therefore enable the organizers to spread the budget further and up the quality for the weekend.

So overall, there are issues which need to be looked at and addressed if the show is to be sustainable in future.

After a year without mountains to make way for Japan, I had planned to return to Scotland – more specifically Braemar – to meet the SMG and get some more Munros under my belt.
Due to circumstances beyond my control, that had sadly been kyboshed. But, undeterred, I set my sights on a trip to Snowdonia and the hut at Caseg Fraith for my next adventure.
This time, nothing was going to stop me!
I set off from my home in Sussex by train to Sutton in London suburbia. There, I was met by one of our group for the six-hour car journey to the hut, in the foothills of iconic Tryfan near Betws – y – Coed in Snowdonia.  
We arrived in the early evening and after meeting up with the rest of our five-man party, we settled down with maps and a pint to catch up and plan our adventures.

The Glyderau

Our first day in Wales dawned wet and windy. And so it was in full waterproofs we headed up the Glyderau on an 11.3 circular route from the hut. I had done both Glyder Fach and Glyder Fawr back in 2012, but this particular route was a new one for me.

We picked up the ridge onto the miner’s track up to Glyder Fach (994m) but we were forced to abandon our (second attempt) to scramble up to the actual summit as the rocks were far too wet and slippery!

We then re-routed over to Glyder Fawr (999m) via Castell – y – Gwynt (Castle of the Winds) via another treacherous ridge walk and actually managed to get to this summit!

Descended over and down Llyn Idwal via the ‘Devil’s Kitchen’ before dropping past Idwal Slabs back to the cottage for a drink and a breather. Myself and the group considered using the hourly bus but – honour satisfied – walked the rest of the way.

Cnicht

Day Two could not have been more different as the over trousers and waterproofs were replaced by shorts, T-shirt, sun lotion and cap.
As part of a ‘recce’ for an upcoming BBMC meet, we decided to follow a route up Cnicht (which I had also done in 2012) – a lovely little mountain dubbed the Welsh Matterhorn owing to its classic profile and rocky, alpine-like terrain.
This was a nice circular route of just under eight miles starting and finishing in the village of Croesor. It took up straight up the mountain via a pleasant and shapely ridge directly to the summit (691m).
As per the route, we left the top over the other side to pick up a winding but steadily descending pass past the ruined former slate works over boggy marshland to rejoin a more distinct path. Followed this all the way back down the valley into Croesor and then headed back in John’s car to the hut.

Pen yr Helgi Du

Our third and final day in Wales saw a new route and a new summit for me, which is always a nice achievement. Phil, David and I (Andy and John had gone to tackle a climbing route on ‘Little Tryfan’) followed the track onto the A5. We followed this for about half a mile before picking up a paved, steadily climbing track up to the reservoir. Then swung up via a tricky scramble on to the Crag yr Ysfa ridge.

Took this to Bwlch Eryl Farchog, then to the exposed and unremarkable summit of Pen yr Helgi Du (833m) (Peak of the black hunting dog). Continued in a southerly direction along the ridge in thick fog and rain before we dropped down other side (via another scramble) to rejoin the path back to the reservoir road and the track. Picked up the road again back to the hut.

York (A)

Everyone went their separate ways the next day. I had decided to extend my trip to visit my aunt in Lancashire for a week. It was really nice to spend some time doing a bit of walking in the Pennines. We went to Skipton and I took myself off up Boulsworth (a vast expanse of moorland at 517m spanning the South Pennines between Pendle and Calderdale). We had a couple of days in York where we went to Jorvik Viking Centre, the Minster, Clifford’s tower, walked the city walls and a river boat trip) and of course plenty of tea and cakes.
All in all, a fantastic twelve days away with dear friends and a beloved relative. A very different trip with a bit of everything and some challenging mountain routes.

With January almost out, it looks a case of deja vu with Aryna Sabalenka and Novak Djokovic on course to retain their Australian Open titles Down Under.
The first tennis major of the year is merely the aperitif for what promises to be a gripping 12 months of elite, high octane sport both on these shores and overseas.

The Six Nations returns

Rugby’s greatest annual international tournament kicks off on February 2nd, spearheading a charge into another enthralling year of sport.
France host Ireland in the RBS Six Nations opener, with the mercurial Les Bleus bookending five spectacular weeks of blood and thunder as Europe’s finest go head to head.

England went the furthest at last year’s World Cup but are third favourites for a record-extending 30th outright win. France and Ireland, with World Cup pain still lingering, are expected to be the main contenders for the crown.. The pair meet in the tournament’s opening gambit next week.

You can never truly write Wales off – especially under veteran Kiwi Warren Gatland – as his new-look side bid for a repeat of their 2019 Grand-Slam winning heroics. With a Lions tour of Australia on the horizon coming firmly into view, the tournament offers the best Britain has to offer an early chance to stake their claim for a place on the plane Down Under.

Glory beckons in Southgate’s potential farewell

But it’s not just in rugby where we will see kings of Europe crowned. Football’s equivalent takes place in Germany from 14 June in what looks to be Gareth Southgate’s final bow as England boss.

With one of the most exciting squads in world football, the pressure and expectation will again be on the shoulders of England’s young stars. This side is the best we’ve had in a generation as the Three Lions look to emulate the Lionesses and finally end the senior men’s team 58-year wait for a major trophy.

We’ve heard this story so many times before but maybe, just maybe, this one will have a different ending. We can dream, right? We face Serbia, Slovenia and the ever-tricky Danish in the groups with the likes of Spain, France and Julian Nagelsmann’s rejuvenated Germany on home soil blocking the path to glory.

Scotland navigated a tricky qualifying section featuring Spain and Erling Haaland’s Norway to make it to a second successive Euros, whilst Rob Page’s Wales will be looking to join them. The Welsh Dragons face a home play-off against Finland in March before a potential showdown with Robert Lewandowski et al to decide their destiny.

British stars eye Golden Games

Hot on the heels of the summer’s festival of football, all eyes turn to the French capital as the greatest sporting show on earth comes to Paris.
After a watered down Games in 2021, delayed by a year and held in empty venues across Japan, the world’s biggest multisport extravaganza returns in style.

The opening ceremony of the 33rd Olympiad takes place along the River Seine just 12 days after the conclusion of the Euros.
Running from 26 July to 11 August, Paris 2024 will consist of approximately 10,500 athletes, 329 events and 32 sports where ‘breaking’ (a competitive form of breakdancing) will make it’s Olympic bow. Sport climbing, surfing and skateboarding enjoyed successful debuts in Tokyo and feature once more this time around.

Team GB – spearheaded by several iconic, household names – will be looking to go one better than the 64 medals (and 22 golds) won last time out.
Swimming stars Tom Dean, Duncan Scott and Adam Peaty OBE, in what could be his Olympic swansong, are again set to make a splash at the forefront of the British team. Tom Daley makes a surprise return whilst Britain’s most decorated female Olympian Dame Laura Kenny spearheads the cycling team’s assault on the medals. At the other end of the spectrum, teenage skateboarding sensation Sky Brown – who dazzled in Tokyo – is another Team GB star to watch for. For the hosts, superstar striker Kylian Mbappe has expressed his desire to take part while rugby union star Antoine Dupont will swap the Six Nations for the rugby sevens.

The Paralympic Games, which take place from 28 August to 8 September, will feature some 4,400 athletes competing in 549 events across 22 sports.

Great Britain finished second in the medal table at the Tokyo Paralympics with 124 medals – 41 gold, 38 silver and 45 bronze.

Tokyo medallists including cyclist Sarah Storey, who has a record 17 Paralympic gold medals and would be competing at her ninth Games, wheelchair racer Hannah Cockroft, swimmer Maisie Summers-Newton and equestrian riders Lee Pearson and Sophie Wells will all be hoping to add to their medal hauls.

Another busy year for England’s cricketers

Another year; another major cricket tournament. This time, it’s the T20 for both the men and women. The men’s event is co-held by the USA and the West Indies in June, with the women’s equivalent being held in Bangladesh towards the end of the year.
England’s men go into the 20-team competitions as holders and favourites, looking to make a better stab of defending their title than the dismal embarrassment suffered by their 50-over contemporaries.

One date jumps out from the packed excitement of the sporting calendar: 14 July. Co-incidentally, that’s five years to the day since the world was gripped by the seismic scenes unfolding in a small corner of west London. England won the Cricket World Cup after a tied Super Over against New Zealand, whilst across town Novak Djokovic usurped his great friend and rival Roger Federer in the longest Wimbledon final of all time.

This year, the men’s final shares the prime Sunday night viewing slot with the denouement of events in Germany. It would be fair to say nothing is getting done in my house that day!

After all the planning, all the hype and the sense of excitement accompanying our every move, Japan 2023 delivered on every level.

It’s difficult to pick out just one highlight from our trip to the far side of the world and the Land of the Rising Sun. Shebuya Sky, Tokyo Disney, Mount Fuji, sushi at the robot cafe, petting hedgehogs and a trip down to Osaka on the ‘Shinkansen’ (bullet train).

We packed all this – and more – into our two week adventure of a lifetime. Whilst the social dynamic of seven adults living in close proximity invariably took its toll and tensions at times ran high, we put this to one side to embrace all this beautiful country and its people had to offer.

We flew from Heathrow on the 8.40pm night flight to Seoul Incheon on 21 October, then caught the connecting flight to Tokyo’s Narita airport where we landed shortly before 10pm on the 22nd.

We met Reece at the airport and then travelled on to our airBnb.

I won’t run through each day here as all 12 days of the trip were action packed and there was a lot to cram in. I’ll pick out the highlights and discuss what I enjoyed the most.

Our first day in Japan saw me tick off one of my bucket list items for the trip as Hannah, Liam and I went to visit the National Stadium, where the pandemic-delayed Olympics were held in 2021. I had my photo taken with the torch, went into the dressing room, up the tunnel and on to the track, dropping Mo Farah’s iconic celebration for a pose.

In the afternoon, we went to TeamLabs Planets which is an immersive 3D Art experience where you become the exhibits. This featured a room with musical beams of light, falling flowers and a room where you’re in darkness and knee deep in water whilst the colours reflect off the glass. Very unique and an experience not to be missed1

On Day Two I had salmon sushi at the robot cafe and Day Four was Mt.Fuji, the highest summit in Japan and active volcano (although it hasn’t erupted since 1707). We got the cable car up to the observation platform but the summit was shrouded in clag so we didn’t get as good a view as we’d have liked. Having gazed in wonderment at close quarters, I’m definitely planning to go back at some point in the near future and climb to the summit. We wandered round the gift shop and went on a boat trip on Lake Kawaguchi.

Day Six saw us in Kyoto for another must-see for the visit to the Fushimi Inari shrine. Architecturally stunning, the history and tradition of these ancient sacred sites sit side by side alongside Japan’s modern infrastructure and technology – just one reason to hold locals and tourists alike completely in thrall.

I had packed for all eventualities but Tokyo in October was like the Costa del Sol in July with the unpredictable conditions of Blighty conspicuous in absentia. I had to put sun cream on as the hottest day we had was 28 degrees.

I tried to be as adventurous as possible with the food. There was the aforementioned sushi which was served by a robot and we also went to Kura, which is a sushi chain, during our stay in Osaka. I was hangry as I hadn’t eaten all day so demolished six or seven of the dishes although they were small and not very filling.

I’d never had ramen before, so it was a no brainer to give it a go. It’s a Japanese noodle dish served in a broth with spices and various accompaniments such as pork, nori (dried seaweed), eggs, and cheese. This was another dish I was eager to try and the second time, which was down in Shinjuku, had more flavour and a better kick than the first one I’d had at Ichiran.

Day Nine saw us visit Tokyo Disney where I met Captain Jack Sparrow (it wasn’t actually him of course) and we managed to get on all the rides of which the log flume and Space Mountain were the best. The shops weren’t up to much but I enjoyed the day more than I thought I would. The next day Joe, Matt and Chelsea continued their odyssey when they went to DisneySea whilst the rest of us went to Shibuya Sky where we ascended up to the 45th floor to look down on Tokyo from a height of 230m. This would have been better at sundown but to see the Tokyo metropolis sprawling beneath us from above was quite a sight to behold.

The aviation museum at Tokorozawa, Japan’s first and oldest airfield, was an nice tribute to humanity’s ability to fly and I tried my hand in a simulator. I managed to take off, circle round and land again but unfortunately the larger scale one was closed by the time we got there as it was only open for two hours.

What you read here is merely a whistlestop tour of a trip I loved every minute of. I’m already planning a return to climb Fuji and maybe go down to Hiroshima to visit the Peace Garden in the near future – once I’ve visited Norway, Swede, New Zealand and Jamaica.

Japan, it was a blast. Arigato!

It’s fair to say the 2023 Rugby World Cup has been a slow burner. After five weeks of a meandering and predictable pool stage, in which we all could have picked the quarter-finalists, this was a weekend in which the tournament in France finally came to life.

There were very few proper match-ups in the groups with a series of one-sided contests in which the strongest nations regularly ran riot against their tier two opponents. Scorelines such as France 96-0 Namibia, New Zealand 73-0 Uruguay, Scotland 76-0 Romania and England 71-0 Chile did little to showcase rugby union’s blue riband event and instead only served to highlight the gaping chasm between the upper echelons of the game and those that simply don’t get the exposure at this level.

Thanks to the world governing body’s incredibly short-sighted planning, the World Cup draw was one of the most lopsided ever. The fact the world’s four highest ranked sides met at merely the quarter final stage made a mockery of the inexplicable decision to conduct the draw three years before the tournament.

For example, Scotland – the fifth-best nation on the planet – were given a group containing South Africa and Ireland. You had to feel for them as they were never going to make it through.

There was no doubt the four matches we’ve seen over this past weekend have been the best of the tournament so far – with the possible exception of Fiji 23-24 Portugal and Ireland’s 13-8 win over the Springboks that preceded them.

Ireland came into the tournament as the world’s top ranked team, on a 17-match winning streak and a Six Nations Grand Slam to boot. The men in green from the Emerald Isle had never gone beyond the last eight but 2023 was widely predicted to be their year. Andy Farrell, once of this parish, had steered his side to a 100% record in Pool B to set up a mouth watering knockout tie with the All Blacks – a team still licking their wounds from a record 35-7 defeat to the rampant Springboks in August. In short, they would never have a better chance of winning rugby’s greatest prize.

If there’s one thing for certain, though, it’s to write off New Zealand at your peril. They may not be the all-conquering force of old, but when it comes to the big occasion and the pressure of high octane sport when it matters most, they have been there and done it so many times before.

Often, such hotly-anticipated clashes can fail to live up to the hype but this was an instant classic befitting of the world’s two best sides. New Zealand raced into an early 13-0 lead but, in a simply magnificent exhibition of knockout rugby, ended the match camped on their own try line in the face of a fierce, 37-phase Ireland onslaught.

Time seemed to stand still as Ireland kept coming, but it was the New Zealand players with their arms raised in triumph having withstood intense pressure with a herculean defensive effort at the last. An absolute howitzer, won by the men in black 24-28. A match to go down in the annals of the all time greats.

Like Ireland, Wales had been tipped to go deep into the tournament after a faultless pool stage which included a record thrashing of Australia. They had reckoned without the fighting spirit and pure durability of the Pumas in a match which lurched from control to chaos and somewhere in between. Wales looked comfortable at 10-0 and 17-12 ahead but Joel Slavi’s late breakaway ensured Wales were unable to reach a third World Cup semi final. Like their football counterparts, there is something about the Pumas and Rugby World Cups.

That paved the way for Steve Borthwick and our England boys. Dogged by poor form and lack of preparation, this was perhaps the lowest ebb we have ever been at coming into a major competition. A torrid series of warm-up games only fuelled the belief that England – and Borthwick – were doomed to fail.
The fact one of those defeats came against Fiji – the Pacific Islanders first ever win over the might of the White Rose – meant Sunday’s rematch was far from a foregone conclusion. England started strongly and were on course for what seemed a comfortable victory, our best so far.

Their country may be tiny, but Fiji and their team of giants defied the odds to claw back a 14-point deficit and pull level. Two tries in four minutes had those of a nervous disposition reaching for the heartburn tablets as England somehow looked to have snatched defeat from the very jaws of victory.

But the big occasion calls for those with a cool head and Owen Farrell’s drop goal was followed by a penalty to edge our boys to victory as the only home nation left in the competition.

If we thought Ireland against New Zealand was good, and it was very good, then the best of the bunch was saved until last. The hosts, France, with the collective will of an entire nation roaring them on, finally poised to win their first World Cup on home soil and bring rugby home. Against the mighty Springboks, the world champions, a team who thrive on steadily dismantling opposition scrums and battering all comers into submission.

This is what the phrase ‘on a knife edge’ was seemingly invented for. A clash of styles if ever there was one. France, all fluidity and flair against South Africa – brutal, bludgeoning and darn right bloody minded. Throw all those ingredients together, and you have the recipe for something very very special indeed.

Six tries were shared in a thrilling, open, end-to-end first half to give France and their fit-again talisman Antoine Dupont, a narrow interval lead. It was asking a lot for the second to live up to its counterpart. It didn’t, but it certainly was no less exciting.

Back and forth the match went, no quarter given and nothing left out there. Like Ireland against New Zealand, it seemed almost criminal this was only a quarter final. A match of this magnitude and quality deserved to be a semi or even a decider. Roared on by an entire nation with the clock in the red, France searched for the score to keep their elusive quest for the William Webb Ellis cup alive.

But the ball spilled loose and, with that, France’s World Cup was over by the narrowest of margins – their hopes, dreams and destiny snatched from them by a single point, 28-29. As les Bleus slumped spread-eagled on the turf, even the most hard nosed cynic had to feel for them.

So South Africa advance to face England and are now favourites for a successful defence of their title – it would be their fourth World Cup win. To face New Zealand? You would think, but we can bet the perennial underdogs of Argentina will have something to say on that…

The festival

The Bournemouth Air Festival is one of the blue riband events in the UK airshow calendar. Not just because of its reputation as an internationally diverse display, but because of the stunning amphitheatre in which it all unfolds.

Amidst the backdrop of the Solent, the Isle of Wight and it’s award winning beaches, Bournemouth is a beautiful venue for an air display. The Thursday of the 2023 show was a washout but the Friday and both weekend days more than made up for that.

My initial thoughts in the days leading up to the events were that the program looked a little thin. A sign of the times maybe, but these fears proved unfounded on the day.

There was a nice mix of familiar favourites, overseas stars and some unique formations I’ve never seen before.

The flying displays

Sunday was the fourth and final day of flying at the Festival, opened by Bournemouth regulars the Tigers Parachute Display Team. The six-man formation showcased the best they had to offer with a colourful and dramatic descent on to the beach with some nice canopy work culminating in their leader landing with an enormous Army flag.

Piston engine aircraft featured strongly in the flying program throughout the afternoon. Paul Farmer’s elegant Yak 50 preceded further solo routines from Rod Dean with his T67-M Firefly and Flight Lieutenant David – John  ‘DJ’ Gibbs in the RAF’s elementary two-seat trainer, the Grob 115E Tutor. The Tutor was put through its paces in an energetic and punchy routine full of twinkle rolls, half Cubans and high octane aerobatics. The little aircraft’s bright and eye-catching canary yellow paintwork brought a flash of colour against the backdrop of Bournemouth’s gin clear blue skies. The piston engine segment was brought to a close by the Rolls Royce pairing of Mk.19 Spitfire and the throaty growl of the North American P–51D Mustang, always a popular item in any flying display. The classic East Midlands based fighters were a regular sight over Britain during WWII and evoked memories of yesteryear with a beautiful pairs routine. The two vintage warbirds rounded off their combined sequence with their own solo performances flown by Dan Griffith in the Spit followed by Alastair Williams in the big American single seater.

New additions…

One of my favourite displays came courtesy of the Royal Navy. Naval participants are a sadly rare presence at airshows now, so it was a significant coup for Bournemouth to get the Yeovilton-based pair of the Fairey Swordfish, of Bismarck-sinking fame, and the small but no less impressive Westland Wasp anti-submarine helicopter. The Dorset coastline was one of only a handful of venues you can see these unique and historic aircraft in the UK this season.

The pair, two aircraft from very different eras, arrived in formation and performed several passes, with the little Wasp tucked in on the biplane’s right wingtip in line astern before breaking off into their individual routines.  It’s been many a year since I saw the beloved Stringbag in the air and I’ve never seen a Wasp before so this display added a nice historic touch and something different to what was at times a very familiar list of participants..

Captain Tony de Bruyn brought an international flavour to the Jurassic Coast with a dramatic demonstration of his OV-10 from the Belgium-based Bronco demo team. His display showcased the excellent manoeuvrability and impressive roll rate of the light ground attack surveillance turboprop on its Bournemouth debut – it’s always good to see an aeroplane you’ve never seen before and a relatively new arrival on the air display circuit.

And old favourites

The Royal Air Force were, as ever, out in force over all four days of the festival. The Chinook’s display calendar is truncated this year and consists of only eight displays, but the Air Festival was lucky enough to be one of these. It’s always amazing to see how agile and manouevrable such a massive helicopter can be as the mighty twin-rotor heavy lifter brought it’s unmistakeable ‘Blade Slap’ for further rotary wing action.

The Red Arrows have been virtual ever presents at the Air Festival and performed on three of the four days with the Thursday completely washed out. The eight-ship team endured a difficult 2022 but provided a much improved showing here which even included a few new additions to their otherwise familiar fare’. The Battle of Britain Memorial Flight arrived early in the day with their full and regular compliment of Lancaster flanked by the fighters of Spitfire and Hurricane.

The Firebirds and Bournemouth debutants the Starlings filled the void left by The Blades – now sadly no more – whilst Rich Goodwin returned in another highlight of the day. The bizarre spectacle of this tiny biplane roaring like a jet was really quite something with aerobatic champion Goodwin having added two jet engines to the fuselage of his highly modified Pitts Special. Because, well, why not? The jet noise only added to Goodwin’s already magnificent display of rolls, knife edge passes, gyroscopic tumbles, the ‘Tower of Power’ and even a hover!

But Bournemouth really did save the best until last. I had hoped to leave a bit early to beat the crowds but in an impressive piece of marketing, the organizers followed the old adage of good things come to those who wait.

A fitting finale

With the highly anticipated appearance of the Vampire having sadly fallen by the wayside, the only solo jet on the schedule came right at the end in the early evening light. But, boy, was it worth the wait. Flight Lieutenant Matt Brighty released the kraken and opened the throttles as he closed the Festival in magnificent style with a loud and virtuoso display in the Typhoon. Brighty brought the beach to a standstill and held the spectators completely in thrall as he put ‘Blackjack’, and it’s 40,000lb of thrust, through it’s considerable paces. Matt’s vertical climb out into the wide blue yonder saw him depart to a standing ovation as I too headed for home – though not nearly as quickly!

Final thoughts

To reflect on the day, I definitely did enjoy my trip to Bournemouth for the airshow. There weren’t nearly enough jets and too many single engine piston aircraft, but that’s more a reflection on the current economic situation rather than any slight on the show itself. It was nice to see some new additions alongside the old favourites and, Thursday aside, the show was blessed with strong attendances and excellent weather. There are rumours we have seen the last of the Air Festival, but let’s hope that’s not true and this marvelous event continues for many years to come.

For the second successive major tournament, England’s Women have outdone their male counterparts in the latter stages of a major tournament. The Lionesses have diced with death and sailed (very) close to the proverbial wind but have made it through to the last four of the Women’s World Cup. With the USA, Germany, Brazil and France gone, England’s Women are 90 minutes away from a shot at glory.

England stand on the cusp of greatness

Where Gareth Southgate’s men narrowly and spiritedly failed – but failed nonetheless – on home soil and in Qatar, Sarina Wiegmann’s tenacious pack of Lionesses have delivered. And how. Just over a year on from that never-to-be forgotten day at Wembley, England’s Women are two games from going where no one has gone before. No women’s team have ever won back to back Euros and the World Cup. Not even the all conquering German juggernaut of the 90s and 00s. Only Spain have ever done before it in the men’s game.

Two games away from football immortality. Two games away from legendary status and a place in English football folklore. This side have already become household names up and down the country thanks to their success last year. Now, they have a chance to be mentioned in the same breath, with the same reverence, as Jeff Hurst, Martin Peters, Gordon Banks, the two ‘Bobbys’ Charlton and Moore and the rest of the Boys of 66′. To scale football’s Everest and stand unrivalled atop the pinnacle. At the zenith of the game as the winners of football’s biggest prize.

Ch-ch-ch changes

England have not played well: indeed, only against China in the final group game with qualification already secure have the real England come to the party. Yet perversely, perhaps their biggest weakness has also become their primary strength. In the Euros, England were free flowing. Fluid. Eye catching. They only really ever looked remotely in danger once, against Spain in the quarter finals. There was no doubt they were the best team in the tournament, and by some considerable distance.

This time it’s different. Far from the comforts of home, England have traipsed about as far away from Blighty as it is possible to be. Leah Williamson is absent, so too Beth Mead, Fran Kirby and the retired Ellen White. Kiera Walsh very nearly joined that club. Is it because of these injuries to the spine of their Euros-winning squad that England have yet to peak Down Under? Or the result of? Either way, there is no doubt we have seen a very different side to Wiegman’s charges over these five games. But isn’t that what the best teams do? Isn’t that what makes a side truly great – it’s all well and good having a Plan A, but you need to have a Plan B and even a Plan C too. England have certainly shown the female equivalent of cojones; whatever that may be.

Roaring Lionesses find a way

It’s testament to the resilience, determination and sheer force of will coursing through their veins England have, continually somehow, found a way. They found a way in the face of a fierce Nigerian onslaught. They recovered from a goal down against the combative Colombians in Saturday’s quarter final. They survived Walsh’s serious looking injury in the Denmark game. Lauren James stupidity in the last 16 tie with the African champions only served to make them dig deeper. Deeper than they have ever had to dig before under Wiegman. Where many expected a comfortable victory, England just about made it to the sanctuary of a shootout before coming through. Every box ticked. Every test passed. No side has had to fight harder to get this far. Whilst giants have been toppled all around them, England have stood up to be counted – and survived.

Quiet and undemonstrative, Wiegman’s calm demeanour has rubbed off on her players and she has instilled something quite remarkable in this group of players. They now feel they can conquer all comers no matter the scene, setting, situation or scenario. They are battle hardened and ready for anything thrown at them.

England out to poop Aussie party

As well they might because now comes the toughest test of all. When England walk out on Wednesday in sweltering Sydney, they will not only face the eleven Matildas of Australia, but the collective force of an entire nation. England are fourth in the world, Australia six places lower. On face value, that alone makes the Lionesses favourites. But the Aussies are riding the crest of a wave. The Aussies have Sam Kerr, possibly the greatest centre-forward in the women’s game, back fit and ready to be unleashed. They feel it’s their destiny on the biggest stage of all. They would love nothing more than to get one over on those pesky ‘Poms’ en route to their finest footballing hour. England will have even fewer friends than normal in three days time.

Australia were the team to inflict Wiegman’s first defeat as England boss. Granted it was only a friendly, but it served notice of how dangerous Australia are and the threat they pose.

History beckons, glory awaits

Should England get past Australia to reach a first World Cup final – and a second in succession for Dutch coach Wiegman – the resurgent Spaniards or the silky, suave Swedes stand in their way. England beat both in the Euros and so will fear neither but Sweden in particular have thrown down a marker when they beat ertswhile champions USA. They then followed that up with another impressive win over hotly tipped Japan.

So it all comes down to this: this time next week there will be a new world champion. Spain, Sweden, Australia or, indeed, England. Carpe diem, ladies, carpe diem. As the slogan for our Olympics in 2012 so proudly proclaimed: Inspire a Generation. Our girls have already done that whatever happens. They have earned respect and admiration from even the most tight-lipped of sceptical men. No longer is the England Women’s football team merely an afterthought, a footnote, a token gesture.

Oh by the way: they brought it home last summer, so what do we sing this time?