What’s the difference between 99 and 100, or 999,999 and 100,000? You don’t need to be Einstein to know that the answer in both cases is 1. But what a hugely significant 1 that is. When the number of people who have died from Covid 19 in this country reached the nice round figure, the BBC and other news organisations went into paroxysms of delight, inundating us with innumerable facts, figures and stories from the poor people who have been tragically bereaved. If the news wasn’t depressing enough already this was a wonderful opportunity for Huw Edwards and his colleagues to go into melancholic overdrive. Conversely, when a batsman scores a century it’s an occasion for great rejoicing and jubilation, setting the statisticians into a frenzy as they gurgle with pleasure about another milestone reached and what this means in the cricketing sportisphere. Get out for 99 and there’s a certain amount of sympathy and much disappointment, but the feat is worth nothing in the record books. It is of course entirely logical, after all there has to be a demarcation line somewhere, but it does seem a bit harsh. I recall playing for MCC against Ryde School on the Isle of Wight many moons ago. I opened the batting in the morning and was into the 90’s with lunch approaching. It was always noteworthy to score 100 before lunch. But I was so eager to still be batting after lunch that I blocked out the last over before the interval against an extremely innocuous leg spinner who I had been smashing all round the ground. I came back after lunch expecting to make my first century for MCC, but the break in concentration meant I was easily caught off the same unchallenging bowler; a situation I have kicked myself for ever since. A century has become such a milestone, that batsmen and commentators talk about the “nervous nineties” and so it’s become quite a test of mental fortitude and courage to score the last few runs needed to reach three figures. It’s amazing though how often, in the post climax euphoria, batters get out very soon after making their “ton”.
“The corridors of power” is an old saying and its meaning is obvious, but we had a first hand view of its extraordinary significance watching the inauguration of President Biden. With unfettered access to the inner sanctums of the White House one couldn’t help but marvel at the grandeur and history of the place, made more real by the presence of so many former Presidents and their wives, engaged in jolly conversation about who knows what? Wouldn’t we love to! You get the same sensations and tingling spine when walking around the Palace of Westminster, where once Tony Blair was such a revered figure. How interesting then that this week his son Euan has been revealed as a serious multi-millionaire after entrepreneurially founding a company to encourage businesses to start apprenticeships for school leavers, rather than them spending what is quite often a useless three years at a minor university. It was his Father Tony who led the charge to turn perfectly good Polytechnic Colleges into Universities so that everyone could have the chance of gaining a degree. I would venture to suggest that it’s been apparent for years, to anyone with half a brain, that this was a ludicrous project and that many people are much happier and better equipped to learn a useful trade or craft and start earning some money. When I joined the RAF, the Service was renowned for the quality of its Apprentices who went through RAF Halton. They could join at 15, were given an outstanding all-round education and skills training and many went on to work their way through the ranks, gain a commission and even reach high rank. Started in 1920 by the founder of the RAF, Marshal of the Royal Air Force Lord Trenchard, they became known as Trenchard’s Brats, and in the intervening years until they were disbanded in 1993, 40,000 boys were trained, 10,000 were commissioned and 90 attained Air Rank. The designer of the jet engine Sir Frank Whittle was one of many distinguished former Apprentices. Thankfully, the RAF has once again started recruiting apprentices and it seems that the rest of the country might be realising the scheme’s potential too. How the pendulum swings. Yet another of Tony Blair’s triumphs! At least he has now had the good grace to acknowledge the error of his ways.
Talking of education and the corridors of power, it’s depressing to see that BoJo has overruled his Education Secretary Gavin Williamson over when schools should re-open. Garrulous Gavin wanted February half term but the Boss says not before 8th March at the earliest. It is an absolutely disastrous decision. If GG had any balls at all he would resign as a matter of principle. The future of the young is being sacrificed on the altar of those who’ve lived their lives and in many cases already have one foot in the grave. Harsh maybe, but true. On the BBC’s Question Time last night a majority of the “virtual” audience put their hands up when asked if they would sacrifice their Covid injection to allow a teacher to have it instead. I know I would.
ADayInTheStrifeOf 