I've lost track
Aug. 14th, 2008 11:47 amI think I've missed out TWO medals - a bronze in the individual equestrian and another silver in the cycling, this time for Emma Pooley in the time trial. Today's events at the rowing have been rained off, so that means no rest day for our girls in 3 semi-finals which will now have to take place on the rest day with the finals on Saturday - weather permitting.
That's all from your Olympic sports desk.
Still raining here too. That's three days solid which means a key top of the table clash between Durham and Nottinghamshire hasn't even started and there's only 1 day left. Pity as it means Lancashire could make a move. Isn't it a shame that the season could be decided by weather?
Pat loaned me the I'm sorry I haven't a clue CD she got off Debra and I laughed like a loony all the way down to church duty yesterday. It is such British humour based on daftness. The programme was a spoof on Radio 4 quizzes where two teams are challenged to answer questions on general knowledge or the news or to talk for a minute on a random subject without hesitation or repetition and be amusing with it. I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue turned such shows on their heads: it has to be silly and yet taken totally seriously.
A favourite round is called Mornington Crescent. There is no such place, but it is supposed to be somewhere in London. Players have to suggest a route to it using the London Underground. Basically they state random Underground stations as if they have some devious route in mind to get there. At random, one of the panellists announces 'Mornington Crescent' and they have won. It sounds stupid, but when you hear it they make it seem like a chess game played with arcane rules. Like this. Mrs Trellis always writes a letter.
My favourite round is singing the words of one song to the tune of another. Here's one for the audience - that's you - to try. The words of Michael Jackson's Rockin' Robin to the tune of Scotland the Brave. Hee heee. To give you an idea here's Tony Hawks to show how it's done.
Sadly, the programme had to end this year when the chairman, jazz trumpeter Humphrey Lyttleton, died. He was famous for getting away with the most disgraceful double entendres concerning Samantha, the keeper of the scores. Samantha didn't actually exist but she was always tremendously popular with the studio audience who played along with the gag. He was utterly irreplaceable so that was that after 30-odd years, or, in the spirit of the programme 30 odd years. It's sure to be on Wikipedia if you want to find out more.
The rain is now bouncing off the ground and I have the lights on. It is 12.15pm. Today's archaism is forswart : exhausted by heat. They are mocking me.
That's all from your Olympic sports desk.
Still raining here too. That's three days solid which means a key top of the table clash between Durham and Nottinghamshire hasn't even started and there's only 1 day left. Pity as it means Lancashire could make a move. Isn't it a shame that the season could be decided by weather?
Pat loaned me the I'm sorry I haven't a clue CD she got off Debra and I laughed like a loony all the way down to church duty yesterday. It is such British humour based on daftness. The programme was a spoof on Radio 4 quizzes where two teams are challenged to answer questions on general knowledge or the news or to talk for a minute on a random subject without hesitation or repetition and be amusing with it. I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue turned such shows on their heads: it has to be silly and yet taken totally seriously.
A favourite round is called Mornington Crescent. There is no such place, but it is supposed to be somewhere in London. Players have to suggest a route to it using the London Underground. Basically they state random Underground stations as if they have some devious route in mind to get there. At random, one of the panellists announces 'Mornington Crescent' and they have won. It sounds stupid, but when you hear it they make it seem like a chess game played with arcane rules. Like this. Mrs Trellis always writes a letter.
My favourite round is singing the words of one song to the tune of another. Here's one for the audience - that's you - to try. The words of Michael Jackson's Rockin' Robin to the tune of Scotland the Brave. Hee heee. To give you an idea here's Tony Hawks to show how it's done.
Sadly, the programme had to end this year when the chairman, jazz trumpeter Humphrey Lyttleton, died. He was famous for getting away with the most disgraceful double entendres concerning Samantha, the keeper of the scores. Samantha didn't actually exist but she was always tremendously popular with the studio audience who played along with the gag. He was utterly irreplaceable so that was that after 30-odd years, or, in the spirit of the programme 30 odd years. It's sure to be on Wikipedia if you want to find out more.
The rain is now bouncing off the ground and I have the lights on. It is 12.15pm. Today's archaism is forswart : exhausted by heat. They are mocking me.