I love the strange beauty of the old British built single cylinder four-stroke engines and in particular the examples of Velocette models from the fifties that still survive and roar. One broke down outside our house today, well it didn't break down it just refused to start, a bit like my lawnmower or strimmer might. "Way too much compression" said the expert owner, "just needs five minutes before I kick it again". Five minutes later, a spray of Redex and three kicks and it roared and ran magically like some Black Country built Swiss Watch - what a marvellous sound but the old Velo is a tad unreliable for everyday use.
After 55 years of avoiding rugby (for no good reason) I watched three matches yesterday, drank 6 pints of beer, ate a Loch Fyne Bambi burger and enjoyed the novelty of the non-segregation of rival fans in a sports stadium. Suddenly rugby makes most football spectacles seem archaic, over controlled and filled with malcontents and intolerant, abusive fans - which of course here in Caledonia it clearly isn't.
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