In what promises to be a thrilling Saturday duel in Augusta, Tiger Woods and Rory McIlroy will tee off last in the pairing everyone wanted to see, tied at 14 under par and leading by an incredible seven shots. Beautiful dreamer…..
In the week where Georgia should have been on my mind, the only Masters I’ll be watching are those who will be tentatively reappearing at School to work out how the hell all this online learning is going to work. Judging by the steady stream of expletives emanating from Mrs T’s direction, there are a few obstacles to overcome. Laying my new brick patio is a cinch in comparison and the weather and blossom is reminiscent of the finest days at Augusta National.
Remember Brexit? That was the ridiculous campaign to take Britain out of the safe, comfortable, well-managed free trade zone known as the European Union, where twenty eight totally disparate countries melded into a single, slick economic miracle, so that we could plough a lone furrow in the choppy waters of international trade, without the comfort blanket of the European Central Bank and the unimpeachable assistance of large numbers of highly paid, unelected bureaucrats in Brussels. Oops. The torrent of domestic COVID updates means you may have missed the fact that Europe is in turmoil, with a capital T. The wealthy Germans, Dutch and Finns etc are , quite outrageously, objecting to the Union scrapping all it’s “Red Line” rules in an attempt to keep Italy, Spain, Greece and even France out of the debtors prison. According to all the informed sources that I read there are only two solutions; either a full merging to become a Federal Europe (unlikely) or KERPOOF, the whole sandy edifice comes crashing down like the World Trade Centre. For my money, we can’t get out fast enough. With our own currency and Central Bank, we will have a better chance than most of emerging from the next Great Depression with the ship still afloat, even if the bulk of the super-structure has been blown away, the Figurehead has disappeared and we’re holed below the waterline.
In my helicopter flying days, when maintaining visual contact with the ground was de rigeur (unless you were under the positive radar control of a nice, helpful air traffic controller) we were taught early on about the dangers of “suckers’ gaps”; those holes in the cloud base that would tempt you to fly up through them, only to discover that they had closed up behind you and suddenly there was nothing to see below you but a mass of disconcerting white. Oops again. Don’t be fooled in these troubled times by market rallies. It’s typical bear market behaviour and it’s very likely indeed that markets still have a scarily long way to fall. In the last Great Depression ninety odd years ago, the Dow Jones Industrial index fell over 80% from its peak. If that should happen again, in round figures, the Dow would drop to 6,000. It’s currently at about 23,500 having hiccuped its way down from roughly 29,500. Oops again, but this time BIG OOPS! This pandemic is what market watchers like to call a “Black Swan” event, presumably because it’s pretty unusual. Only this one might not be unusual; it could well be unique. Dig out the parachutes.
With the biggest pile of elephant poo the world has ever seen, would you want The Donald as your mahout? Triple oops. As Westlife implored, I’m quite keen to see what life is like on Jupiter and Mars…..perhaps with the help of Richard Branson?
Just when we REALLY need the Spring cheer of blushing azaleas and Augusta green, they’ve locked and bolted the doors and left us with eternal Sky Sports re-runs of previous glories. Assuming that you haven’t cancelled your subscription.
ADayInTheStrifeOf 