As the tennis balls heroically arced towards King Dermot on the 15th hole at the Alfred Dunhill Links golf tournament in St Andrews, I was reminded of an observation imparted to me when I was an ardently politicised teenager half a century ago:
Punishment meetings
The day after the collapse in Austria, I was told of a tense exchange in the immediate aftermath of the game against Lasc.
Orangemen and Israel
The last few days in the Six Counties feel like someone has powered up the DeLorean and driven us back to 1996.
Autumn of discontent
The public presentation of the Celtic non-board seems to be “Crisis? What Crisis?”
Gallant allies and immortal writers
Yesterday, while some poor dears in the green half of Glasgow were fretting about the availability of Camilo Andres Durán Márquez for selection, the Bretton Woods dispensation was being potentially reimagined.
False equivalence Sunday at Ibrox
Tomorrow, the stadium that John played for will have no visiting fans.
