Sporty

Sir Guestling on the WWW again
A word about the sporting life.
I am a sports fan and have when the spirit moved me taken part in quite a few. Can't say I ever excelled at any but I could hold my own from time to time. The nomad nature of the diplomatic life did not lend itself to regular participation, although opportunities were taken where possible and many a diplomatic solution has been agreed during 18 holes of the old dimpled white ball being whacked.
Britain is the inventor of many world wide sporting pursuits football, rugby, cricket etc. that we spread round the world, through empire and to all parts of the globe. Early amateur beginnings have grown into major giant commercial, worldwide cash generating industries, with huge sponsorship, massive governing bodies, large rewards and all of the attendant media that inevitably accompany, quite literally, the whole circus that these huge sports have become. If you are into sports, then I am sure many of us still enjoy watching or playing the actual sport itself, irrespective of the attendant politics and self-interest. Sport can be inspiring, breathtaking, thrilling and at times can lift you out of your seat. Who, when supporting one's favourite or national team, has not hidden behind the sofa whilst the tension becomes palpable during a vital match?  Sport enriches our cultural heritage and most of the time brings us closer together.
Like all endeavours, it does have a dark side, guilty of cheating, drugs, corruption, danger and bitter rivalries, it reflects society and mirrors all of its incumbent frailtities. Look at athletics, cycling and the machiavellian saga that is FIFA! 
It can be very amusing.
I once played in a football match many, many, years past, when pitches were not the best, only the outer parts of the playing area were really negotiable, the middle was like a quagmire. The ball was passed into the centre circle where the mud was at it's thickest, naturally it stuck fast, four players, two of each team came racing in as quickly as the pitch would allow, each of them eyes, fixed on the ball and each thinking that a big kick would be required to move it. They all converged at the same time and in their effort to collect the football all four lost their balance slid in a heap,in doing so the impact burst the ball, they managed to pick themselves up, however the mud was so clingy that each of them had their shorts pulled off! Much hilarity, embarrassment and abandoning of the game as it was the only ball that either team had. If YouTube had existed then, the video would have gone viral, it was like synchronised swimming so perfectly did they converge!
At my advanced age I only play the odd game of golf and go for a bike ride as often as I can. Much against my better judgement I was persuaded, when in my fifties, to play in a charity five a side match. Having not kicked a ball for many years I had no idea how I would perform. The good lady told me bluntly, that I was damn fool and I would regret it. When I asked if she was coming to watch, she scoffed, told me that wild horses wouldn't drag her to witness my stupidity. How correct she proved to be! My brain still understood what to do, I was reasonably fit but none of this helped. They say that it takes several miles for an oil tanker to turn and I knew exactly what that meant, by the time the synaptic nerves in my brain had relayed the message to my body it was too late. Of course there were slaps on the back and well dones handed out but I knew my fellow players were being kind. A good friend who had watched my pathetic display and who knows me well enough, told me some time after, that it was like everyone moving at normal pace whilst this one person, me, was in slow motion!
Anyway, if my plodding performance was not enough to put me off, the aches that set in for the next couple of days, did. To say I was stiff of limb, would have been an understatement, it took all of Pomfrey's considerable manipulative skills to keep me mobile.  
Lady Guestling tried to hide her amusement and to her great credit resisted the urge to say she had told me so.
I now confine my involvement to the armchair or the occasional invite to the venue or stadium, to spectate.
Sport, wonderful, uplifting, exciting, divisive, inclusive, disappointing, emotional, brutal, dramatic, poetic, it can hold communities together or tear them apart, split families or unite them, it can lift us, it can bring us down, sport encompasses all of these and much much more. Our lives would be the poorer without the human endeavour that provides such fantastic entertainment.
To watch a well struck six, a twenty five yard screamer that hits the back of the net, the jinking try, the chip from the edge of the green that pitches in the hole, the breathless surge as an athlete breaks the "tape", the grace and strength of the gymnast, artistry and skill in so many different activities, you sometimes have to suspend belief. 
Well I must go, I can hear the good lady's voice in my head. Your waxing lyrical again Guesty!