What the Dickens........

An outrageous piece in the style of the great British Author Charles Dickens (1812-1870)

As another street urchin was trapped in the spokes of his hired Hansom Cab and thrown headlong into an adjacent town house basement well, Josiah Raskelf mused to himself on his good fortune in discovering a most interesting document which could be to his ultimate gain. 

The acquisition of the document had been undertaken with much stealth and guile from a second hand book seller in the less salubrious  part of Fish Town, the bit which moved around on the ebbing tide of the all dominating muddy estuary. 

The flickering coal gas mantles had made the scouring of the display shelves for any antique book treasures problematic but there was no mistaking the sound of good quality parchment slipping from the pages of a weighty tome entitled ' Marrying for Financial Advantage in Victorian Society". 

After some undignified scrabbling around amongst the flotsam and jetsam on the semi submerged and rotting timber floor of the shop, the intriguing paper was retrieved. In elaborate copper plate handwriting Josiah found to his interest a detailed schedule of the widows of the town and what appeared to be a figure of their net worth in cash and property assets. 

The proprietor of the shop had finished his victuals of a large mutton bone washed down with warm ale and could be heard preparing for a stock taking visit to the inner sanctum in which Raskelf was encamped. 

In a deft sleight of hand the moneyed list was eased into the pages of the book and in a flourish he offered the grubby and insanitary shop keeper a shilling in return for the said book. Immediately suspicious of the well dressed and evidently affluent visitor to his very humble premises the owner, one Herbert Sprakeworthy insisted that the retail price was in fact nine shillings and sixpence including bookbinder tax. 

Raskelf showed no emotion in forking out the vastly inflated price again arousing the suspicions of the seller who now regretted not coming in at a considerably higher figure. 

So in due course Raskelf and his exciting find were on their way across Fish Town . 

Being a man of means and leisure he would enjoy a very prolonged period in which to deliberate a strategy to attain maximum exploitation of the bereaved womenfolk for minimum effort and entanglement. Alighting at his own residence he was fussed over by a small retinue of domestic servants who between the cab and his front door managed to provide him with a complete change of clothes,  a very close wet shave and a manicure. 

He dined alone and the fifteen courses were relished with extreme delight in anticipation of his forthcoming course of action. He slept fitfully, however, as befits a person with no soul or conscience and on a very full and bloated belly from the excesses of his dining table notwithstanding a tangible volume of the very best Port wine.

 In the morning, sat at his study desk he considered whom he could recruit to undertake the shabby elements of his masterplan. 

Various brigands and thieves had served him well in the past but he doubted whether they had survived the onslaught of cholera, the attention of other competing villains and the complications of childhood ricketts. 

His Manservant, a threatening figure even in traditional attire, was a veritable human directory of the criminal fraternity and could provide contact details for any perpetrator for any requirement whatsoever. The task in hand, considered Raskelf, was rather specialised in that each of the potential victims would have to be wooed into relinquishing their fortunes rather than bludgeoned and beaten in the conventional manner of the time. 

It would be a long term project, there was no doubt about that. 

The targets, eligible widows,  would have to be carefully selected. It was entirely conceivable that the prettier ones would re-marry quickly being very sought after and particularly in the light of the guidance and instruction of chapter headings in the book in which he had first discovered the detailed list. 

He feared that he would be left with the dowdy matrons and righteous shockers and no amount of incentive or reward based proposals would entice an unscrupulous Player or Beau to partake in the scam. 

Perhaps, on reflection the project was destined to be just too arduous and fatiguing and not for him, whose aim in life was to enjoy the better things and reap the rewards from, as far as possible, the labours and tribulations of others. 

He felt there was little scope to pass on the information to another scallywag for a small consideration or even a profit share. 

Regrettably, but in his mind, entirely fittingly, he pushed the parchment document into the glowing embers of his fireplace and as it quickly scorched and curled into flame he ignited his most favourite brand of cigar and planned his next despicable endeavour.  The act was accompanied with a most unflattering grin and escape of gas from the excesses of the previous evening.

The Great Fairy Step Debate

 

Confucius he say.......

I have not, for many years, heard of any contemporary applications of what used to be the first perception of measuring for a child in the use of fairy steps.

I can remember many games and pastimes at home or in school, usually those played with real or imaginary friends, where the fairy step came in very useful to define space, allocate territory and segregate participants. The distinctive heel- to toe-to heel -to toe movement, often with an exaggerated throwing out of the leg or if done rapidly more like a penguin walk, was regularly used as an integral part in  pre-school or infants school play activities . Even in senior school it was adopted to set out the distance between coats and blazers for a goalmouth for a break-time soccer game. If the match deteriorated into a brawl or mass scrap close to the goal-line then the fairy step was used to mark out the position of the penalty spot. The end of year and spring terms were mostly football but with the final school term before the summer holidays it was cricket or rounders with the fairy step returning to prominence as an easy and widely accepted medium of measurement to set out the pitch.

I have started to tentatively explore the viability of the wider adoption and use of the fairy step in business and commerce. I am fortunate in that my adult size 10 feet, when shoe'd are exactly 1 imperial foot or 12". This of course is confined to sensible and stout work shoes of a Clarks, Hush Puppies or budget Brantano calibre and not winkle-pickers, brothel creepers or those flat ended fashion shoes of Italian style and panache. Experiments in the accuracy and reliability of a size 10 fairy step over relatively short distances have proven very successful against a Swiss precision made laser device, the stalwart of a reinforced vinyl tape and an antique wooden measuring stick. There are some inevitable disadvantages particularly in the implementation of fairy steps where items of furniture form an obstacle for a clear run across a room not otherwise a problem for a red-spot laser beam or a tensioned tape. There are severe limitations in outdoor areas where ditches, rivers, lakes, seas and oceans are encountered.

The general public may also express some distress at the sight of a practitioner in the process of fairy stepping as this involves a head down stance, mutterings of counting consecutively and of course the often comical body movement which is an inevitable feature of the process. Ideally, the presence of an assistant would be required to attend to the counting and also to offset any public animosity or aggression but that could have severe implications for the financial viability of the system. I can see that its application for long distance measurement is rather limited as it takes a lot of concentration to keep in a straight line particularly on a windy day and the actual physical requirements are quite exhausting. It is very possible to incur an injury through a clash of ankles, pull a muscle or even throw out a knee or hip joint from inattentive or careless actions.

Standardisation of the fairy step would also be difficult. I have a vested interest in advocating that only size 10 shoe wearers should be elegible but that would be open to criticism for elitism and also prejudice against those of other shoe sizes. Another field day for lawyers certainly.The whole thing may just decline into a free for all along the lines of Cinderella's beauty challenged step sisters with self mutilation and severance of toes or those of petite feet buying up stocks of clown shoes. Other aspects for consideration would be conversion rates into the metric equivalent and the Statutory Legislation required to enforce the system for acceptance into the UK economy.

On reflection and at this stage in my considerations the fairy step may actually have only limited practical application but would be great fun to implement anyway. The actual numbers involved are quite interesting along the lines of ;

The Great Wall of China- Twenty nine million, forty two thousand seven hundred and fifty five fairy steps

The Andes Range- Twenty three million, two hundred and thirty two thousand fairy steps

Route 66, USA- Twenty million, eight hundred and twenty nine thousand and six hundred fairy steps

Around the world- One hundred and thirty one million, four hundred and eighty two thousand, five hundred and sixty fairy steps ( This would involve continuous fairy steps on board any water crossing vessels)

John O'Groats to Lands End, a mere Three million, one hundred and eighty three thousand , eight hundred and forty fairy steps.

Hobbiton to Mount Doom- Five Million, eight hundred and eight thousand fairy/elvish steps

By way of encouragement just recall the wisdom of Confucius, slightly paraphrased ,that "every journey begins with a fairy step......"

Race Relations Retrospective at 10 years

 

Race Relations

Talent always shows through in everything from academic performance through to the arts and in particular in sporting endeavours.

In today's environment of multi-culturalism and such initiatives as kick racism out of football it really is the case that anyone with talent can progress and acheive the heady heights of their chosen pursuit.

It was so very different in the latter years of the 19th Century when success in life was determined by social class, wealth and patronage and the colour of your skin. It was near impossible for the underprivileged or minorities to have a route into the elitism of sports and it was this prejudicial barrier that Marshall Walter Taylor took on to become the first african american athlete to be a world champion in track and road cycling.

Born in 1878 and in the Deep South of the USA Marshall Taylor could not have found himself in a more hostile and negative setting for an aspiring black athlete.

He was an obviously natural bike rider and with his first cycle at the age of 12 he was taken on by a local bicycle shop to attract customers by stunt and trick riding on the pavement outside. It was his attire of a soldiers uniform that earned him the nickname "Major Taylor" which stuck for his adult racing career.

His first race was won at the age of 13 (1891). By the age of 15 he held the amateur track record over a one mile distance but was subsequently barred because of his colour.

In a 75 mile road race in Indiana he suffered racial threats so much so that he felt compelled to move his base to the more tolerant Massachussets on the east coast.

Racism in the Southern States was very prominent in cycle sport of the period.

White riders regularly conspired in their tactics to beat Major Taylor including boxing him in and culminating in a physical assault and choking by another competitor. The perpetrator was fined but with no other penalties or sanctions imposed.

Spectators also impeded and interfered with his racing and assaults with nails and ice were not unusual.

Being an amateur bike racer made it necessary to have a serious day-time job to subsidise racing and he worked as a mechanic for the Worcester Cycle Manufacturing Company who also sponsored him with a bike and equipment.

Professional Racing began at the age of 18 and he was very soon regarded as the most formidable rider in America. His greatest supporter was Theodore Roosevelt who was an avid follower of Major Taylor's career.

In 1896 a six day race at Madison Square Gardens in New York was attended by 5000 people and in an international field he impressed particularly in lapping the field in one of the events.

In 1898 he held 7 world records over distances of 2 miles to 25 miles followed by a six week period in 1899 in which he established a further 7 world records.

In his professional racing Major Taylor won 29 out of 49 races and became World Champion in 1899.


The more extensive and mature cycle racing of Europe beckoned and a tour in 1902 to France was soon followed by exhibitions and racing in the Southern Hemisphere including Australia and New Zealand.

An active racing programme did take its toll physically. We know about the drug controversies of modern bike racing and the sophisticated compounds in circulation but in the early 20th Century many riders relied upon nitroglycerine to keep them awake and stimulated during events.

A famous quote from Major Taylor indicated the hallucinatory powers of nitro when he claimed to have a difficulty racing on the track from an imaginary character wielding a knife.

He retired at age 32 giving the advice to those african americans keen to emulate his success on two wheels to rather find and pursue their own best talent.

In spite of making a considerable fortune from Professional Cycling Major Taylor lost it all through a combination of bad investments, persistent illness and the Stock Market Crash. He was buried in a paupers grave and it was not until 1948 that his contribution to cycling was acknowledged with fellow riders paying for a proper memorial to be erected in a Chicago Cemetery.

As with many great achievers recognition is not in their own lifetime. It is only in the modern era that Major Taylor has been lauded for his pioneering of not only african americans but his records and impact in the sport. His name is now found on street signs and a Velodrome. The film rights for his life story have been sold and a big screen dramatisation is eagerly awaited.

(Photograph gratefully taken from the collection in the New York Public Library under the 6th January 2016 release of archives to the public domain))

Listless update

 

Listless

 

Looking forward

Things that I have not yet done;

Run naked across a wide expanse of beach
Shouted something rude across a street at Phil Spencer and Kirstie Allsop (if together at the time)
Jumped out of an aircraft
Swum across a wide stretch of open water, fresh or saline
Taken part in a full marathon
Painted something in oils
Won anything in any form of competition
Managed to devour an Oilmans Breakfast of 16oz steak, various other meats, eggs, chips, etc
Had my stomach pumped
Fallen through a ceiling
Been victorious in a game of Scrabble on holiday with my wife
Dressed up in drag
Been entirely happy in wearing boating shoes with no socks
Executed a hand brake turn on a public road
Thrown a McDonalds product out of a moving car window
Eaten a meal without some of the food dropping onto my shirt front
Kept my shirt tail tucked into my trousers on a continuous basis
Had two suits to wear on rotation
Busking with just a descant recorder
Dyed my hair
Played a full round of golf
Burglary
Been the first to be picked for any type of sporting activity
Morris Danced
Written anything that has been published for money
Ridden a cow
Stared at the moon and howled
Driven an Aston Martin
Waved a flag in anger
Placed a one way bet in a High Street Bookies
Preached to the public
Base jumped
Used a spray can to write anything on a wall surface owned by the Local Authority
Cooked a soufflé
Fired an air rifle at a living creature intentionally to harm
Had a moustache or a commitment to facial hair
Chased someone in the street
Kicked in a plate glass window
Jumped a queue in a supermarket
Been civil to anyone riding a horse through a town
Volunteered in a community soup kitchen
Shown disrespect to Marmite
Knowingly left dog mess on a public pavement or area
Baked a fruit cake without assistance
Had the tidiest garden in the street, unless it has snowed.
Walked across the UK
Allowed my hair to be stroked by a chimpanzee
Visited the City of Liverpool
Invested in Ostriches or Jojoba
Played the Stock Market for selfish gain
Paid the local newsagent on presentation of his first bill
Watched an episode of Channel 4's Shameless
Shown any interest in how many pairs of shoes Carrie from Sex in The City possesses
Stared at a guinea pig
Stayed awake for more than 36 hours- ever
Launched a ship on request
Journeyed to the USA
Purchased or owned a Japanese built motor car
Owned a firearm
Read a book in one sitting
Stolen eggs from under a chicken
Contemplated jumping off a motorway bridge
Been friends with anyone Welsh
A victim of a pick pocket
Been the Mr Big of a Betterware or other pyramid selling organisation
Sold a body part, mine or otherwise
Serenaded anyone after a quick course of how to play a guitar and sing
Advanced further than 3rd Cornet in a brass band
Learnt another language to any level of natural fluency
Had my car parked by a Valet Service
Cut and eaten my toenails
Kicked an elderly person who might be a bit annoying
Been in a fight with a serving member of the clergy
Spoken with the Queen
Dressed up in any form of World War 2 uniform
Been stranded in quicksand
Set fire to a public building
Driven an omnibus
Had a pair of leather trousers
Jumped into my pants when suspended between two chair backs and I've been in a hurry
Owned a Jaeger suit
Kept a silk tie from going out of shape
Found an item of treasure trove
Scuba- dived
Bowled an over in proper cricket
Thrown a hand grenade
Skipped along a public highway like a girl
Consumed more than five pints of Guinness in any one sitting
Been mistaken for anyone famous
Sat quietly in a church when not in a formal service or event
Made a daisy chain
Run anyone over
Composed a hit record
Washed my hair in a mountain stream
Climbed Snowdon
Walked along an active railway line
Played on a stair lift in a private residence
Skied
Owned a watch of a type favoured by flyers or nautical types
Completed even a single side of a Rubik Cube
Won a two player video game involving running and shooting
Changed a spark plug in an engine
Worn my wedding kilt with 'T' shirt and plimsolls
Skated on ice with ice skates
Had highlights in my hair
Had any appreciation for the music of Coldplay
Organised a barn dance or beetle drive
Pretended to be foreign
Knowingly lied to a policeman
Found that the other man's grass is always greener or the sun shines brighter on the other side
Resisted humming parts of hymn tunes in the company of non-church goers
Loitered in a public convenience
Forged any coinage
Re-slated a house roof
Tarmac surfaced someone else's driveway
Obtained monies by deception
Smoked a pipe
Leased an allotment
Danced across a pedestrian crossing during the rush hour
Hidden a bar of Galaxy chocolate from another human being
Startled a fox
Swum with Dolphins
Squashed a spider
Agreed wholeheartedly with the idea that a tin can say exactly what it does at any one time
Defaced a public monument
Ascended in a hot air balloon and by definition descended in the same object
Been to Africa
Excavated a hole and created a garden pond
Tickled a trout
Made up any form of explosive from readily sourced domestic ingredients
Drunk more than 1 bottle of wine in any seven day period
Sat astride the ridge of a roof
Taken any form of narcotics
Had my own adult sized duffle coat
Travelled in a three wheeler car
Laughed at a Koala Bear, however ridiculous
Found a truffle in a forest
Walked behind a waterfall
Understood the apparent appeal of adopting a donkey that lives away all of the time
Loosened my necktie before 5.30pm on a weekday
Arson in a Naval Dockyard
Walked along and rattled a stick on the railings of a public park
Rolled down a grassy bank
Held a dance floor enthralled
Used a public address system
Had any form of cosmetic surgery
Learned to waltz
Played a character from Shakespeare in a proper performance
Had my portrait painted
Imagined that I was David Bowie
Mastered the pronunciation of the longest place name in the British Isles
Managed a soccer team
Held a membership of a Health Club or Gym for more than 6 months
Owned a pair of classic Converse All-Stars bovver boots
Possessed a flat cap
Run with the bulls at Pamplona
Walked out of the surf in slow motion wearing light blue coloured Speedo's
Sold any secrets to a rogue power
Successfully rubbed my head and tummy simultaneously in front of witnesses
Burped the anthem of any sovereign nation
Farted before anyone in a position of authority
Chained myself to railings in protest
Had any thoughts whatsoever about world domination
Personally undertaken a medical procedure on NHS premises
Thrown a spear
Wasted my vote
Karaoke singing
Delivered a baby
Invented anything to revolutionise modern living
Participated in any form of subversive plotting
Limbo danced
Extracted a tooth from my own head or anyone I know
Understood why anyone admits to coming from Essex
Walked on the hard shoulder of a motorway, barefoot
Performed street magic
Desired  to hang up a dream catcher in my house
Worn a gold medallion
Upset a gang, the Mafia or a Triad
Perfectly cooked a meal on a disposable barbecue bought from a Tesco Express
Brewed
Purged my colon
Spray painted a piece of tatty furniture to pass off as shabby-chic
Pointed a laser pen at an overflying civil aircraft
Jumped over the turnstile in a tube station
Pretended to be a serving police officer
Slapped a horse on its rump to see what it does
Eaten more than 3 pork pies in one sitting
Served on a Jury
Got stuck in the mud in a tidal estuary
Worried a badger
Travelled on the outside of a train
Spoken disrespectfully of a Chelsea Pensioner
Sported a toupee
Worn my pants above my trousers
Pulled the emergency cord in a railway carriage
Excited the attentions of a security guard
Rummaged in the bargain and end of line shelf at the supermarket
Had an urge to shave off my eyebrows
Envisaged ever developing a dislike for corned beef
Ridden a unicycle to work

I wrote this list exactly 10 years ago to the very day. I am sorry to say that the only things I can actually cross off my list is that I have only recently startled a fox and bought a Nissan Leaf (2019)

Play Nice (retrospective from 10 years ago)

 We all have those moments of deep reflection about past events in our lives.

I have written before on how a sound, smell, touch or taste can transport us back to a specific moment, even if that memory has not been foremost in our mind for decades. I of course refer to happy and joyous reminiscences and not tragic or melancholy ones.

In my own life, whilst I may not be able to remember everything that I did yesterday, I can with clarity experience distinct sensations from early childhood. These invariably revolve around the fact that I was allowed to just play by my parents and amongst my four sisters and brothers.

The importance of play especially in the period of seven to eight months up to the age of five cannot be over-emphasised in the development of the brain and, as I discussed in yesterdays blog "PS I Love You", in establishing empathy with others.

I was perfectly happy in my pre-school years and could spend hour upon hour drawing a road network on a big sheet of brown paper on which to drive my toy cars or in the safety of my parents back garden making a landscape out of mud and twigs for warfare by mini 00 scale soldiers.

In group play as an under 10, I was part of a large neighbourhood gang, in the loosest non threatening form for a "gang", ranging about on bikes, on foot in formation like a Roman patrol or in crudely fashioned soap-box  carts. Play was a good thing and as children there was no right or wrong way to play. Empathy was the strongest outcome of the play and that meant that we all got on, well generally as much as competing kids can.

My own home environment permitted  play as it was a safe and loving place with doting parents and no real worries, or at least that we should be bothered with.

I grew up in momentous times with the threat of Nuclear conflict in the Cold War and although I knew about such things I was protected from the stress of worrying over it. My mother and father lived near an airbase in the 1960's with frequent take off and landing activity linked to some world crisis of other being a constant reminder of potential peril. Even in the 1980's I remember my mother having a letter published in a regional newspaper about the damage being done to young minds and aspirations because of the hype and panic arising from the distribution  of "Protect and Survive" or in layman's terms the leaflet in which the UK Government suggested what its citizens must do in the event of a nuclear attack.

We could as easily have become depressed by this impending nuclear holocaust but myself and my siblings were allowed to play. The opposite of play is not, as you may think, work but depression.

I have been fascinated by reading about a psychological project carried out in the 1960's where the subjects studied were imprisoned killers.

The first one interviewed , Charles Whitman, attained notoriety by carrying out sniper shootings at a US University which at that time was the largest mass killing of its type in that nation. His had been a violent childhood with abusive father, access to weapons and a bi-polar condition. Neighbours and those in the community who had known his family told the research team that they had never, ever seen the young Whitman engaging in free play. His father had beaten him for attempting to go out to play and had forced him to play piano at the age of 4. His tutors throughout his schooling saw him as a quiet and withdrawn student who had to be encouraged to play and participate with his peers.

In further unprecedented access to 26 jailed killers the research found a similarity in circumstances that had existed in their formative years to prevent play.

This lack of interaction meant that the social skill of empathy had not developed and with devastating consequences for the victims and perpetrators. It is now the consensus in medical science and psychology that a lack of play in those crucial formative years affects the development of the brain.

In the state of play the frontal lobe of the human brain somehow becomes unhooked and is unfettered in making associations with other parts of the brain in a glorious symphonic existence. There are benefits in  mood uplift, health and well-being and overall happiness.

Where animal brains have been studied in more detail the act of play has been seen to chemically light up the whole spectrum of functions in a riot of technicolour.

Play can also be an aid to survival in stressful situations.

A study of rats involved two control groups. One group was permitted to just behave in a typically inquisitive rat like manner whilst the other was suppressed and contained. When confronted with a cat odour soaked blanket the normal rats investigated and, sensing the danger, fled. They had obviously learned from their experience for another time. The restrained group just stayed where they were, none the wiser and died.

We should therefore, as adults, not overlook the importance of play and playfulness even though we may feel that our seniority, social standing and the respect from others depends on a certain expectation and standard of behaviour. We may feel that as humans we are too civilised to recognise our base instincts around play. Other mammals place a great emphasis on play as it allows the exploration of options, introduces novelty and newness, promotes thought and an ability to adapt and above all it is fun.

It is time to accept that we are designed to play over our lifetime so whatever your age, go and  find that frisbee, retrieve that bouncy ball, toe-poke that football , fire up the Play Station and get on with it,

Olympic Blames

 It was the Cold War Era and the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) did what they did best- spied and reported back to the US Government on all and anything involving the USSR. 

In early December 1979 a dossier was presented specifically on the preparations by the Soviets ahead of the Olympic Games in the Summer of the following year. It begrudgingly acknowledged that Moscow had made considerable efforts to win the bid and that it would represent a major showcase event. 

There was speculation by the analysts that the facilities and infrastructure would struggle to be completed in time for the Opening Ceremony. Almost all had been built for the Olympics under a project purported to have cost $9 billion (roughly $26 billion today). 

The wide ranging scope of the report also gave comment and opinion on how the massive costs would be financed, the dependence on non-Eastern Bloc countries for technology and specialisms, the organisational framework and also how the Soviets would act and be perceived as hosts to the global influx of Athletes, tourists and media. 

It was to be Moscow’s moment to shine. 

The date of the report was significant as within a couple of weeks of its Confidential circulation the military forces of the USSR invaded Afghanistan and all of the preparation and investment was as quickly undone by geo-politics: 

65 countries, led by the United States, boycotted the Games in protest of the invasion of another sovereign nation. In partial support of the American-led boycott the UK government allowed its athletes to choose whether to compete but only a few athletes chose to stay away. There was a token GB boycott of the opening ceremony, the Olympic flag was raised for the British medal winners and the Olympic anthem played for the five gold medallists.

Cynics said that it was a calculated participation by Great Britain with many key competitors and medal contenders being absent leaving the field, track, hall and pool open for a serious attempt at winning medals. 

Despite the boycott, the Games generally were deemed a success. 

The Soviet economy did later falter and the communist superpower collapsed just 11 years after being in the world spotlight. How much the financial burden of hosting the Games contributed to the eventual demise of the USSR was touched upon by the CIA as a matter of speculation.

There was a great cartoon in the satirical Punch Magazine in the UK showing two chubby, unshaven and beer drinking Russian athletes, kitted out on the stadium track with the caption "To be frank, we didn't think anybody would turn up".

I remember watching the BBC TV coverage of the Moscow Olympics at the age of 16. I was quite sporty myself, a bit of a sprinter and keen on the 800 metres but the event that really caught my attention was the Javelin competition.

Because of the depleted attendance from the boycott the 18 competitors took part in one qualifying group. This was staged on July 26th 1980, with the automatic qualifying mark set at 80.00 metres (262.47 ft).

In rainy conditions several favourites had difficulties getting through. All three Soviet throwers and Hungary's defending champion Nemeth reached the automatic qualifying mark (80.00 m) in the first round, but the other Hungarian, Paragi, who had broken the world record earlier in 1980, only got a good throw in the third and final qualification round and East Germany's Detlef Michel, who was one of those expected to do so and would win the World Championship in 1983, failed to qualify. 

In fact only 10 participants attained the qualifying standard and so two Detlef Fuhrmann and Stefan Stoykov although not reaching the mark were drafted in to make up the required twelve finalists^.. The final took place on the following day.

Best expectations in the final were Paragi, three Soviets and East Germany's Wolfgang Hanisch, a three-time medalist at European Championships. Hanisch was an early leader after throwing 86.72 m in the first round, closely followed by two of the Soviets, Heino Puuste and Makarov, and Finland's Antero Puranen. 

Paragi had problems with his technique and failed to get a good throw, and the third Soviet thrower, Dainis Kūla, had no valid mark after two rounds.

In the third round Paragi got his best throw, 79.52 m, but it wasn't enough to move him to the top eight that would qualify for rounds four to six.

Dainis Kūla's third throw immediately became controversial as it landed almost completely flat (rather than point first), and a flat throw should have been ruled illegal. It was at this point that it appeared that the Soviet Officials were showing bias towards their own countrymen as no sanction for a foul throw was taken. Had that ruling been made, Kūla would have been out of the last three rounds. It was also claimed the throw's distance had been exaggerated at 88.88m with the actual distance being around 87 m.

Flat or ambiguously flat throws were not uncommon with the old javelin designs then used, nor were "generous" judgments by officials. Kūla's case, however, gained much notoriety as it not only secured him Olympic gold, but was seen as being a wider pattern of Soviet officials favouring their own athletes throughout the 1980 Games.

In round four Kūla improved further to 91.20 m, the eventual winning distance. Makarov got his best throws in rounds five and six and took silver ahead of Hanisch

I found the competition fascinating but sadly my abiding memory is about the further and most enduring controversy surrounding Soviet officials who reputedly opened the stadium's outer gates when Soviet athletes were throwing, letting more wind in to aid the throws.

In Finland (which had three athletes in the final), the gate issue spurred much discussion and lived on in public memory for a long time. In a bit of a sarcastic protest Kūla was greeted with shouts of "open the gates!" when he competed in the 1983 World Championships in the Finnish capital, Helsinki and when the 2013 World Championships were held in Moscow the gate controversy again became a talking point.

At the time there were arguments that the Javelin competition should have been voided by the IAAF and either held again at some future date, or removed from the Olympic records

However, no official complaints or protests were filed, and the original results were allowed to stand. 

I did see a bit of a footnote that scientists did actually carry out an experiment to see if a howling tail wind would be a benefit to a javelin's trajectory and range.

They concluded that it was in fact more of a hindrance for the aerodynamics of a steel javelin and so the whole controversy may just have been a bit of anti-Soviet propaganda by the interfering West. 

No doubt there is a CIA Report all about it somewhere in the archives.

Reds in the Hedge

There was a lot of activity at the end of the street.

In fact, I tend to think that what I could see was actually a Police cordon.

That was definitely a first for the area. Not just one officer on duty but three, edgy and nervously glancing at the cars and pedestrians as they either passed by as a matter of fact or were just a bit inquisitive about the unusual goings on. A few brave persons on foot were poised to ask that inevitable question about what was up but a stiffening and bristling of those on guard duty was enough to deter them.

The reason for the formal roadblock was not, obviously, down to a leaking gas or water main. I could not see a glow nor smell the distinctive odour attributable to an outbreak of fire. I suppose it could have been a murder or a domestic incident.

The traffic had slowed enough for me to glance past the street end. In the cul de sac beyond there was a fleet of squad cars and those big black, unmarked vans often referred to as Marias  (mer-rye -ers) used to cart off the naughty boys and girls to the nearest police station.

More of the local constabulary could be seen chatting with some quite ominous looking para-military types in full combat gear and casually swinging machine pistols on their hips as they hung down from heavy duty canvas straps slung over their padded shoulders.

It was a couple of days before the local  paper realised the newsworthiness of the event. They speculated wildly on the first front page account out of desperation to beat the free weeklies to the story.

Gradually some semblance of professional journalism emerged and in the following days an incredible tale was recounted.

The target of the attention of the authorities had been a single semi detached house in that quiet suburban road, Kirkham Drive, Hull, HU5.

It was just an ordinary red brick built place with a rosemary tile roof, tidy woodwork and a neat front garden. In the windows hung those detestable net curtains giving just enough privacy and an implied  message of 'there's nothing worth looking at or to be bothered about here, thank you very much'.

After the initial assault on the house and whoever its occupant was a good proportion of its contents had been removed by the task force. The local newspaper had published some grainy internal photographs to pad out its now top running feature.

The source of the pictures was not clear. They may have been acquired in a plain brown envelope from a person in an official capacity. In fact, one of the neighbours trusted with a key for those emergencies that always occur when the owner is away on a trip was responsible either willingly for a cash consideration or had been duped by a young, attentive reporter type.

Again, there was nothing remarkable about the house. A bit plain and drab to the décor and furnishings but nevertheless functional and comfortable. There were, however, a lot of shelves packed with weighty books in every room, lavatory included.

This was not the norm from my experience of the typical residents of the street. They usually had a small collection of those thick volumes produced with regular monotony by Reader's Digest on such subjects as Heritage, General Knowledge, The Royal Family and of course the Book of The Road. These themes were all that was required to answer the persistent queries of small children or settle a dispute after a Pub Quiz Night.

The shelving was stout and wall to wall, firmly fixed to the masonry and not flat pack or unstable if overloaded. Most of the horizontal surfaces of tables, window cills, kitchen worktops and even either side of the staircase treads were covered with files and loose papers and more were protruding out of a great variety of cardboard boxes distributed under and around the furniture.

I had seen similar ordered chaos in the homes of academics and those of respectable and apparently harmless eccentricity.

The former was applicable in this instance.

The owner occupier was a lecturer at the city University. One of those small columns on an inner page of the local paper gave a potted biography of the man. Born up North, State School educated but bright, earned a Scholarship to a prestigious southern place of learning, excellent First Class Degree , a gap year of letting rip on a global circumnavigation, a stop off in the Soviet Union, post graduate studies to Doctorate level, teaching posts at a number of worthy establishments, then what to me appeared to be a bit of a breakdown in that he ended up here in a good, steady but lower league of academia.

The high flyer appeared to have hit one of those glass ceilings.

His subject had always been Economics and Social History. In his first Uni year he had joined the Communist Party. It was a small branch of disaffected sons and daughters of the wealthy. His motivation was primarily to meet the volatile female members who were like nothing else he had encountered in his previous life. They were an active group, mainly because being of limited numbers they only required the hire of one mini-bus for a campaign outing to attend picket lines, support striking comrades or attend regional and national conferences and gatherings.

The highlight of each successive year of being a Card Carrying Communist was a visit to the Motherland. These were officially received and he had built up quite a network of contacts in a number of State Departments in the USSR.

His profile in the newspaper column all pointed to one outcome.

He was eventually recruited as a Spy.

It was not at all glamorous or hazardous. A job in London had enabled him to mix and fraternise with women working in Ministry positions. His handlers seemed pleased with the non-specific information that he was able to gather.

It was then a period of upheaval and political activity in the eastern states of the Soviet Bloc. Solidarity Trade Union in Poland had begun the process of  dismantling and then collapsing the Russian Empire. Their man in our city provided information of the level of support both collectively and from powerful individuals on his side of the North Sea.

A few in influential positions in UK Universities were exiles from behind the Iron Curtain and were befriended and quietly relieved of any matters of potential interest from their ongoing involvement with their beloved but imprisoned colleagues in the Old Country.

All of this was done with skill and diligence.

To the neighbours he was just someone clever who worked at the University and was away a lot.

His career in espionage had lasted for 12 years being curtailed only by the change in outlook and Regime brought about by the events around the fall of the Berlin Wall and the ensuing domino effect.

I still glance up that street whenever I drive past the road end but nothing has come anywhere near to that series of events in terms of intrigue and excitement.