The Passing Scene

There are a number of things to amuse us this week. First, there is Queen Elizabeth on an official visit to Canada. She is here to celebrate the 100th aniversity of the Canadian Navy and to visit several other centers. Ok, so what do I think? She is very much a lady whom I admire. She carries out her duties with aplomb. She has little choice, and if I were she, I would dread the chore, but that is what is expected of her; that is why she gets paid. Duty above all. She has enough money that she could abdicate and relax and after all, she's 84. But no, carry on, stiff upper lip. But as a Canadian, I am insulted that she carries the title Queen of Canada. She is no more Canadian than Margaret Thatcher or Yoko Ono. It is time to discard this remnant of colonialism. Now, for the navy. Who cares how old it is? The glory years of WW2, when it played an outstanding role in winning the war, are behind it, as are thousands of our sailors who are beneath the briny. We remember and we honour the sacrifice, but does the age matter?

Next, the G20. These nations met ostensibly to put the economy back on the right track. I have listened to, and read about, the comments of various reporters, economists, pundits and "experts" of one stripe or another, but as yet see no indication that anything at all has been done. To be sure, there are plans to do something, we know not what, perhaps within a few years. We live in hopes. So much bullshit.

Then we have Wimbledon. These 19th century gentlefolk of the All-England Tennis Club make me chuckle. The dress code is all white. Watching a match on TV, it is hard to distinguish a player from his rival without some distinguishing feature such as one player wearing a cap and the other not. One match had one player wearing his ball cap with the bill in front, the other in back. Being there in person is perhaps best as the rules were cast in concrete prior to the invention of TV. Be that as it may, there was some exciting play. Unseeded Yen-Hsun Lu from Taiwan defeated Andy Roddick in five rousing sets, leaving no Americans in the tounament, to my great joy. I love to see Americans lose and Roddick is so quintessentialy American. He's probably a nice enough fellow, but there's my prejudice, take it or leave it. It's just that I detest all brutal empires, be it American, British or Roman. As for the ladies, there is no mistaking the #1 ranked Verena Williams, the Incredible Hulk of ladies tennis. I know I'm being cruel because she seems to be nice enough in interviews, speaking in a little girl voice, and she has a nice smile. But my-oh-my, she's big and muscular. Her sister Venus, ranked #2 in the world, who is more graceful and lithe, but taller, lost to the Bulgarian Pironkova. I don't hold their Americanism against the sisters, perhaps because they're black and atypical. Maria Sharapova is a 6-foot attractive blond, but she very annoyingly lets out a shrill scream every time she hits the ball.

My favourite player is Rafael Nadal, ranked #2. He lets out a yell when hitting the ball, as do a number of players, but not ear-splitting. My next favourite is Swiss #1 Roger Federrer who hits the ball silently. The final match of the 2008 Wimbledon has been considered the greatest match of all time. Rafa defeated Roger in five sets. I'll probably never see another like it.

So on to the FIFA World cup. I had never watched what we North Americans call soccer. This, however, is the real football. It is played with the feet. And the head, in more ways than one. If a hand or arm touches the ball, a penalty is called. The players wear shorts and a jersey and a type of running shoe. No pads of any sort. No helmets. But in case you think it's a sissy game, which no doubt would be the opinion of many Americans, think again. It's pretty rough and I witnessed several players carried off on stretchers. The first thing that impressed me was the accuracy of the passing. A player can kick the ball through a maze of players of both teams and hit his team mate as much as 50 or 75 feet away, and they have lighning reflexes if the ball takes an unexpected bounce. I thought that as the scoring is so low (1-0 and 0-0 is quite common and 3-0 is considered insurmountable) it would be dull. Not so. They play two 45 minute periods with few stoppages, they are always on the run and replacements are few. The referees have to be in as good shape as the players - there are no beer-bellies as in baseball. Following the game, opposing players will often exchange jerseys, and I witnessed on two occasions a fallen player being helped to his feet by an opponent. But once play resumes, there's no more lovey-dovey. Not having an allegiance to any country, one can be detached and merely admire the play. But I was delighted when Ghana defeated the U.S. 2-1, knocking them out of the tournament.

And so has gone my week, so far.