Tournament honors

A young man tried to kill Trump but only wounded him slightly. Bystanders were hurt; one was shot dead. The attacker himself was killed. Investigators say his motive remains unclear.

Of course this tragedy is more important than soccer, but I don’t know what else to say about it.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Congrats to Spain and Argentina for winning their respective tournaments.

Congrats to the Colombians for playing so well. They collapsed in the end. Their semifinal had been the more tiring one, and they’d rested a day less than the Argentinians.

Here is my Copa América “team of the tournament” (with honorable mentions in parentheses):

Martínez, ARG (Vargas, COL);

Nández, URU; Romero, ARG; Martínez, ARG; Mojica, COL (Sánchez, COL; Hincapié, ECU);

Ríos, COL; De Paul, ARG; Caicedo, ECU (Valverde, URU; Koné, CAN; Lerma, COL);

Rodríguez, COL; Martínez, ARG; Díaz, COL (Córdoba, COL; Rondón, VEN).

The Euros’ official “tournament team” is here. I mostly agree: I’d choose Mamardashvili (GEO) over Maignan (FRA), and maybe Carvajal (ESP) over Walker (ENG); and I wish I could make room for Çalhanoglu (TÜR), but not at the expense of any of the tremendous Spaniards.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

I finished reading the First Movement (novels 1–3) of Anthony Powell’s A Dance to the Music of Time. The pace is 20 pp./day, no more than 1 novel/month, for 12 months. Repetitious though much of it is – the narrator has to keep reminding us what his dozens of characters have been up to – its soap-operatic tidal wave swamps the intricacies of E. M. Forster, whose novels I’m also reading.

Sméagol has appeared in LOTR and is, in his way, delightful – a grotesque busybee. He, Sam, and Frodo have reached Mordor’s Black Gate. Two towers flank it. Are these the titular towers? I thought Orthanc was one, and also the Dark Tower. Is the question ever settled?

I finished reading the longest appendix (A).

More results

Copa América quarterfinals

Argentina 1 (4), Ecuador 1 (2). We outplayed the world champions but lost the shootout. Pity.

We almost were knocked out by soccer kindergarteners, one Argentinian journalist complained.

Our coach, Félix Sánchez Bas, a Spaniard, resigned afterward. Rumor has it, his wife and children have been unhappy in Ecuador; they may even have been bullied by fans. I’m very sorry if this is the case. Sánchez is likely to take another job in Qatar.

Brazilians and Uruguayans are scoreless as of this writing. Canada beat Venezuela in another shootout, and Colombia thumped Panama, 5–0, in the Darién Classic.

UK general elections

Labour thumped the Tories. No Tories won seats in Wales.

Euros

Türkiye 2, Austria 1. A good game. Afterward, the Turkish goalscorer, Merih Demiral, was suspended. The Dutch eliminated the Turks today.

Spain 2, Germany 1. A good game. Alas, yellow cards were distributed willy-nilly, and various players were suspended. Spain’s is the only pleasing team left in these Euros.

The French are still tedious to watch, and the English are still putrid. Both teams have reached the semifinal round. Both could reach the final. Wouldn’t that be nice.

I liked what the Mexican commentators said about the English and Dutch fans: For all their color, they’re tepid once the game starts, probably because they’re already soused.

This would explain why the Turks outcheer pretty much everyone during the games.

A Pole’s woes; the “clásico del Pacífico”; plans for Samuel

More Euros. The Germans look decent … the Spanish look very good but depended on an Italian “own” goal for their second victory … the English look putrid … the Dutch and French played a tedious, scoreless draw … the French have yet to score (they did provoke an Austrian “own” goal; the Euros’ official tally, so far, is five).

Poland’s excellent but perennially luckless goalkeeper, Wojciech Szczesny, committed a penalty-kick foul with his face. He only received a yellow card.

(I first saw him in the opening match of the 2012 Euros; he committed a delicate penalty-kick foul then, too, and was ejected.)

The Copa América has begun. Argentina defeated Canada. Chileans and Peruvians kicked each other all through their scoreless draw; quite a few were incapacitated (their rivalry is known as the Pacific Classic).

Frodo et al. have ventured into Moria.

Samuel watches Scooby-Doo.

He was waitlisted by and then accepted into our preferred preschool. A relief; but I grieve that this summer will be his last before he heads out into the world.

Euros

Congrats to Turkey – now Türkiye – and to Georgia for contesting the best match, so far, of these Euros. Thrilling stuff, especially the closing minutes.

Congrats to Romania. Congrats to Germany for rising from the dead. Anti-congrats to Ukraine, England, and (shudder) Scotland.

The French underwhelmed in their first match – except for N’Golo Kanté, now of the Saudi league, who returned to the national side after a two-year absence. He was astounding. I think he covered every square inch of grass. He made his excellent teammates, Rabiot and Camavinga, look ordinary.

If he keeps it up, he’ll be the tournament’s best player.

“But how does one stream all of this soccer, John-⁠Paul?”

Subscribe to ViX ($6.99/month); access:

• the Euros
• the Copa América (beginning Thursday)
• Argentina’s and Brazil’s World Cup home qualifiers
• the UEFA Champions League (fall, winter, spring)
• various domestic leagues (Mexican, Colombian, etc.)
• telenovelas
• telenovelas about soccer

Should you choose not to subscribe, there is some free content as well.

I am not being paid to recommend ViX.

I had an entertaining dream last night. As well as I can recall, it involved hostage-taking, jewel-thieving, and deportation to Texas under the witness protection program.

Leverkusen

Congrats to Leverkusen for securing the club’s first Bundesliga title, in the sixth-to-last round of matches, with a five-zero rout of Bremen. After the fourth and fifth goals the fans stormed the field and had to be shooed back to the stands. My brothers and I are especially pleased for the starting left-back, the esmeraldeño Piero Hincapié. He almost scored what would have been the title-clinching goal, but Bremen’s goalie made a heroic and ultimately pointless save.

Xabi Alonso is the sport’s managerial celebrity du jour. Indeed, this team reminded me of the 2010 Spaniards who, in game after game, would keep opponents pinned back and then eke out a winning goal in the dying minutes (although this match was more like the blowout final of the 2012 Euros).

A brush with death; an unnecessary tournament; baseball

Martin told me that I could watch the Euros with Univisión’s free Prende TV app. I kept an eye on all three of today’s games.

There was a harrowing episode: Denmark’s Christian Eriksen collapsed on the field, apparently due to cardiac arrest. CPR was administered to him. Players, fans, officials, commentators, Eriksen’s wife – all seemed traumatized (as Karin & I were, at home).

I was affected to see the Danish players, clearly anguished, forming a privacy wall around Eriksen and his caregivers.

Eriksen survived.

After a long delay, play was resumed, and the Finns earned their first victory at a major tournament.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Another edition of the Copa América is due to commence. I am not interested in this. The Copa was just played in 2019, in Brazil; this edition also will be held in Brazil. The venue was switched over from Colombia and Argentina. Why those countries should have been chosen is mysterious to me.

All the CONMEBOL countries take turns hosting, and the next turn should have been Ecuador’s. Ecuador might host the 2024 tournament, but this year’s tournament is unnecessary.

Whatever happens in 2024, all I hope for this competition is that it somehow helps, rather than hinders, Ecuador’s quest for World Cup qualification.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

We took Samuel to his first baseball game, at the South Bend Cubs’ stadium. We were in a club box with Karin’s coworkers. Samuel wouldn’t sit still, of course, so I spent most of the evening trailing him back and forth in the (rather crowded) club box.

The little prince

Netflix has released a sixty-minute documentary, Antoine Griezmann: The Making of a Legend – an appropriate title since its depiction of that player’s World Cup triumph is dishonest.

Recounting Griezmann’s “Man of the Match” performance in the World Cup final, the movie focuses on his successful penalty kick, which gave France a 2–1 lead over Croatia. The movie completely ignores how, earlier in the game, Griezmann fooled the ref into calling a nonexistent foul for him. His ensuing free kick resulted in France’s first goal. (For brief commentary on that “foul,” look here and here.)

Griezmann is a wonderful player to watch. He succeeds because of brains, not strength or speed. Despite not caring about the French team, I rooted for him all through Euro 2016.

But his is no “underdog” story (even if, when he was a youngster, the French scouts overlooked his quality and he had to go learn his trade in Spain). As the movie makes clear, he was given sufficient opportunity. He certainly wasn’t shy to seize it.

The movie shows him weeping after France’s defeat of Belgium in the semifinal. “That’s when I knew we’d be world champions,” he says. “There was one match to go, but I thought, ‘It’s okay, it’s mine.’”

The Belgians comment: “We lost to a team with no real game.”

To which Griezmann replies: “If it came from the other team, I’m pleased. It’s what I want, for our game to get to them, nobody able to find a solution.”

But I was a neutral viewer, and I agree with the Belgians. France had loads of talent but no real game.

In this world, you can win a lot without having any real game. You need a sense of entitlement, which the Belgians lacked against their larger neighbor. That is what Griezmann has in spades.

A prank; a vote; a forthcoming event; a new tutee; Zlatan

We’re well into June. The high schools have had their graduations.

At the school where I used to work, the seniors did an especially good prank. They put LimeBikes everywhere inside the building.

It was effective because whenever a janitor would try to remove a bike from the school, the bike would play a recorded message, threatening to call the police.

Eventually, though, the bikes were brought out into the parking lot.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Today, FIFA’s members voted to select the hosts of the 2026 World Cup.

They chose Canada, Mexico, and the United States.

Morocco was the losing candidate.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

David will arrive in South Bend tomorrow night. He plans to watch the first week or so of this year’s World Cup with his family.

The first game, Russia vs. Saudi Arabia, will be played tomorrow morning.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

At IUSB, my newest tutee is a middle-aged woman from Mexico. We held our first session today. Afterward, we tried to schedule our next appointment.

“Let me view my calendar,” I said, and I brought out the schedule of World Cup games.

My tutee immediately understood.

“Such-and-such hour is no good,” she said. “Two of Mexico’s group opponents play at that time.”

We agreed to meet at 10:00am, the hour of inactivity between the 8:00am–10:00am game and the 11:00am–1:00pm game.

She told me that two years ago, during the Euros, she’d been in the stadium when Zlatan played his last official match for his national team.

“I don’t have much regard for Zlatan,” she said. “I think Sweden has more success without him.”

I told her I thought Sweden’s success was beside the point.

“Well, my husband likes Zlatan,” she said. “I suppose you like Zlatan?”

“Zlatan is incredible. You should read his book.”

Apart from our disagreement about Zlatan, we had an excellent tutorial. I think she’ll be a very good student to work with.

Trash-talking

The Champions League final will be played in two days.

Vicente del Bosque, who has won the Champions League as the coach of Real Madrid, as well as the World Cup and the Euros as the coach of Spain, believes that Real Madrid will handily defeat Liverpool. He doesn’t think there’s “even one Liverpool player who would improve Madrid, not even [Mohamed] Salah” (the quotation is from this article).

Actually, right now, Salah is better than any of Madrid’s forwards, but del Bosque has an excellent point. Player for player, Real Madrid is overwhelmingly the better team.

Then again, that is why Liverpool employs the “storming” tactic (see two entries ago). It allows a team to have a good chance, head-to-head, against an opponent whose players are more skillful. Already this year, it has allowed Liverpool to thrash Manchester City.

In other news, the legendary Xavi, formerly of Barcelona, offers this amusing analysis of Real Madrid’s defensive midfielder, Casemiro:

“Madrid break apart, seven players attack and Casemiro stays back on his own to cover the centre.”

Pretty impressive, right? Covering the center all alone? Not impressive enough for Xavi:

“He does not dominate space-time.”

Whoa. That’s a tall order. I’m not even sure if I dominate space-time.

I predict that the score will be Real Madrid 3, Liverpool 1. But I want Liverpool to win, and I think that that could very well happen.

Two ex-Hammers

A year has passed since the dismal European Championship, the highlight of which was Simone Zaza’s failed penalty kick:

How poignant Zaza’s face is, how hopeful. (And Conte’s, how full of sadness.)

Last year, I wrote: “Brave Zaza, I understand your pain, and I wish you future success.”

Zaza has redeemed himself. After an awful period at West Ham, he was lent out to Valencia, where he scored this golazo against Real Madrid.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

I now look to the resurgence of Énner Valencia, my compatriot. This other former Hammer was lent out to make room for Zaza. At Everton, he hardly played. Now, he is in Mexico, with los Tigres, among strikers Eduardo Vargas and André-Pierre Gignac.

He scored three good goals in his debut with los Tigres. The second goal, especially, shows his athleticism, his ruggedness.

Why didn’t he succeed in the Premier League?

I agree with Álex Aguinaga. Some players can only function in a certain warmth.

Russia vs. New Zealand

I was eager to watch this game.

Gone from my thoughts was the flaccid Russia of last year’s Euros.

Gone was the blundering Russia of the 2014 World Cup, whose players, under Capello, were fearful.

I hoped to see the slick Russia of the 2012 Euros, the Russia that put four goals past the Czech Republic (before being dumped out of that tourney by the Greeks).

New Zealand, I thought, would be the ideal victim for such a Russia.

Unfortunately, I missed the first half. I got the kickoff time wrong and turned the game on rather late.

The Russians were ahead, 1–0, but only because New Zealand had scored for them. Empty seats blighted the stadium in St. Petersburg. From his V.I.P. box, Putin cast an irritated scowl.

As I watched, it became clear that these Russians were no better than, say, Peru. (The FIFA rankings have them beneath Venezuela, but that’s not right.)

The Kiwis were vastly worse, though. They looked like a team of schoolboys. Their only standout was their goalie, who made some startling saves. (His club, in Germany, is in the third division, and so I hope that this tourney brings him wider notice.)

But the onslaught could not be held back. Around the 70th minute, a neat maneuver resulted in a tap-in for the Russians. Such was what I’d hoped to see.

Portugal … ?

Well, who’d’ve thought it? Portugal!

• A team that didn’t win so much as not lose.
• A team whose goalscoring hero wasn’t CR7, but an obscurer striker, Éder. (Not even the most distinguished Éder in the tourney. That striker was Éder the Brazilian; he dressed for Italy.)
• A team whose coach had been employed by Greece during the World Cup, and who brought over the grinding tactics of the Greek team. (Without him, the Greeks finished last in their Euro qualifying group, twice losing to the Faroe Islanders.)

I am glad for my cousins, Annie & Vickie, who grew up in Portugal and are loyal to CR7. After the final they walked around their housing co-op waving the Portuguese flag. I am not glad for CR7, who didn’t play especially well in these Euros; nor for Pepe, who did. I am glad that modest Éder got the winning goal. I am sorry for Moussa Sissoko, the Frenchman who played best against the Portuguese.

Semifinals

In their Quito leg, Independiente del Valle defeat Boca Juniors, 2–1. The Goodness Gracious moment comes at the end of the first half. IDV’s goalkeeper appears to step completely into his own goal, carrying the ball with him. But there is no goal-line technology to denounce him.

The Buenos Aires leg will be played on the 14th.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Germany’s semifinals, these last ten years:

0–2 vs. Italy, 2006;
3–2 vs. Turkey, 2008;
0–1 vs. Spain, 2010;
1–2 vs. Italy, 2012;
7–1 vs. Brazil, 2014.

Not one drab contest among them.

This year’s semi against the French is, I think, hands-down the best game of these Euros. The Germans play artfully, airily, especially in the first period. But it is “Little Prince” Griezmann who puts in the goals.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

On a tip from Karin (by request of Karin, with Karin), I am watching Holes, a wonderful, strange movie about children forced to dig holes, for their own moral good.

On a tip from Coetzee, I am reading and re-reading “Death Fugue”:

Black milk of daybreak we drink it at evening / we drink it at midday and morning we drink it at night / we drink and we drink / we shovel a grave in the air there you won’t lie too cramped / A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes / he writes when it grows dark to Deutschland your golden hair Marguerite / he writes it and steps out of doors and the stars are all sparkling / he whistles his hounds to come close / he whistles his Jews into rows has them shovel a grave in the ground / he orders us strike up and play for the dance

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night / we drink you at morning and midday we drink you at evening / we drink and we drink / A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes / he writes when it grows dark to Deutschland your golden hair Margeurite / your ashen hair Shulamith we shovel a grave in the air there you won’t lie too cramped / He shouts jab this earth deeper you lot there you others sing up and play / he grabs for the rod in his belt he swings it his eyes are blue / jab your spades deeper you lot there you others play on for the dancing

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night / we drink you at midday and morning we drink you at evening / we drink and we drink / a man lives in the house your goldenes Haar Margeurite / your aschenes Haar Shulamith he plays with his vipers / He shouts play death more sweetly Death is a master from Deutschland / he shouts scrape your strings darker you’ll rise then in smoke to the sky / you’ll have a grave then in the clouds there you won’t lie too cramped

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night / we drink you at midday Death is a master aus Deutschland / we drink you at evening and morning we drink and we drink / this Death is ein Meister aus Deutschland his eye it is blue / he shoots you with shot made of lead shoots you level and true / a man lives in the house your goldenes Haar Margarete / he looses his hounds on us grants us a grave in the air / he plays with his vipers and daydreams / der Tod is ein Meister aus Deutschland / dein goldenes Haar Margarete / dein aschenes Haar Shulamith

Zaza

In their quarterfinal, Müller, Özil, and Schweinsteiger erred their penalty kicks. Luckily for them, Simone Zaza’s miss counted for three, it was so terrible.

Zaza without music;

Zaza with music;

Zaza with horsey music.

At least he’s contrite. Brave Zaza, I understand your pain, and I wish you future success.

Other Italians erred. The Germans, KO’ing them, advanced to play against the French, who defeated the Icelanders. Here are the Icelanders back at home, doing their rigid cheer (which I like to think of as their “Ent” cheer).

On a lark I’ve begun to write a story called “The Nephew of Poirot.” It’s set during the present day, i.e. during these Euros. It tells of a collaboration between the Englishman Henry Hastings (the grandson of Captain Arthur) and the nephew of Hercule, the Belgian Claude-Luc Poirot. They must come to terms with Brexit, with their countries’ respective footballing crises, and with the past. Following a tip from Coetzee, I am going to have to do some research into Hugo Claus, the author of The Sorrow of Belgium. Dame Agatha, like Chesterton primarily a commentator on the soul, had absolutely nothing to say about Hercule’s homeland – which was all to the good; but nowadays a responsible writer can’t ignore fiction’s geopolitics.

Wildflower

Another upset: the Welsh KO’d the Belgians. In their semifinal they’ll face the Portuguese, who’ve yet to win in 90 minutes.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

On July 8 the Avalanches will put out their first album since, what, 2000? – and to my great delight the tracks released so far are distinctly like certain passages of Since I Left You.

Ignore for a moment the sounds, the samples, and consider how, structurally and rhythmically, the new tracks parallel the earlier ones.

“Subways” condenses “Close to You,” “Diner’s Only,” and “A Different Feeling”;

“Colours” is like “Electricity”;

and of course in many ways “Frankie Sinatra” is like “Frontier Psychiatrist.”

(All these tracks – old and new – are mid-album. We’ve yet to learn how Wildflower will start up or wind down.)

I don’t think these parallels are accidental (“Fr”-“S”; “Fr”-“Ps”). The Avalanches have been trying for sixteen years to make something that approximates the feel, the mood, that was so loved about Since I Left You, and this goal has proved most elusive. And so here and there they’re making the albums’ similarities extra-conspicuous.

The new tracks are quite good in themselves, but they also show how difficult it is to re-do what first was achieved with comparatively little effort. It is no small victory to copy, accurately, what was done by free association.

Casualties

Some footballing casualties:

Spain, KO’d by Italy;
Croatia, KO’d by tepid Portugal;
England, KO’d by Iceland (and by Brexit);
Ulster, KO’d vs. Wales by an own-goal;
Eire, KO’d by Antoine Griezmann.

Only the Welsh remain to carry the British torch. Due to their (rare) advancement, and to that of the Icelanders, there is a feeling of newness about this tourney.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Not so with the Copa América. The final was a repetition of last year’s, nearly to a T.

In the first half, both sides defended hard, high up the field. The Argentinians were doing slightly better than the Chileans. Lionel Messi drew enough fouls to provoke the expulsion of Marcelo Díaz.

Then the referee decided to “even” things out, expelling the Argentinians’ left-back, Marcos Rojo, ruining the team’s shape and handing the advantage over to the Chileans.

The ninety minutes ended scoreless. Extra-time was scoreless.

In the shootout, Messi missed his penalty kick and was absolutely devastated. Afterward he announced his retirement from the national team. He and his country (and, let’s face it, the whole world) were the most grievous casualties of the last few days.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Here is a good column by Jorge Barraza on “The Better and the Worse of the Copa.” My favorite paragraph:

THE SHAME. That this Copa, which in the end was very attractive, should not have been born to unite the Americas or to improve fútbol, but exclusively as a means of paying out bribes. Just as many governments perform yet another needless public work, robbing those who already are over-billed, here a tourney was conceived. The sole consolation is that now all who signed the contracts are in prison in their respective countries or in the United States, and their successors must proceed with care. …

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

I wish to close by praising the Icelanders. Some games ago, Cristiano Ronaldo complained that their play was too defensive. But yesterday I saw ingenuity and nerve in how they brought the ball out after recovering it – passing it short, short, short, then long into just-opened spaces, creating more danger than the English did. In particular I was delighted by their fine No. 8, whom I may never see again after this tournament.

Jacob & sons

One month after our wedding, Karin is getting me to listen to Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.

Way way back many centuries ago
Not long after the Bible began
Jacob lived in the land of Canaan
A fine example of a family man
Jacob!
Jacob and sons
Depended on farming to earn their keep
Jacob!
Jacob and sons
Spent all of his days in the fields with sheep

Jacob was the founder of a whole new nation
Thanks to the number of children he had
He was also known as Israel, but most of the time
His sons and his wives used to call him “Dad”
Jacob!
Jacob and sons
Men of the soil, of the sheaf and crook
Jacob!
Jacob and sons
A remarkable family in anyone’s book …

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

The Argentinians, weary of their title drought, are profoundly interested in winning this Copa América. Without any nonsense, they defeated the USA 4–0 in the first semifinal.

The reigning-champion Chileans obviously don’t wish to relinquish their title to the Argentinians, their sworn enemies. They beat Colombia 2–0 in last night’s semifinal.

This second semifinal, in Chicago, was interrupted for a couple of hours by a t-storm that stretched across Illinois and Indiana. Due to this storm South Bend was briefly under a tornado watch. Karin & I huddled together in our apartment and prayed not to lose our lives or our property or our cat. (It would’ve been all right, though, if our rickety outdoor staircase had been blown away. We wouldn’t have minded being given a new staircase.)

Here is a video of the game and of the storm, and here is a decent write-up.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

The group stage of the Euros has ended with some upsets. The new 24-team format ensures that most of the penultimate-placed teams qualify for the knockout stage. This, in turn, has resulted in guaranteed safety, after just two games, for many of the leading nations, which has caused them to switch off their brains during their closing group games, which has caused them to draw or to lose those games. And so now we have a very lopsided knockout bracket.

One one side are Germany, Slovakia, Italy, Spain, France, Eire, England, and Iceland. This is the strong side of the bracket. All of the favorites, minus Belgium, are on this side (and the Belgians have given a lackluster performance so far).

On the other side of the bracket are Belgium, Hungary, Ulster, Wales, Portugal, Croatia, Poland, and Switzerland. Most of these teams didn’t even qualify for the 2012 Euros. (The Portuguese got to the semifinals then, but now they look awful.)

I admit I’m enjoying this.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Do you ever wonder how the characters of Good Will Hunting turned out? Here Ben Affleck shows what happened to Chuckie after he grew up.

The British situation

Is the UK doing away with council housing?

Farewell, then, to the Britain of my imagination. The UK’d might as well get rid of its fish-and-chips shops and its London fog.

Not all Britons are very keen on council housing. I even happen to agree with those who, in 2008, opposed the inclusion of council flats in luxurious buildings.

Council flats shouldn’t have a hint of luxury about them. They ought to be squarely on the dingy side.

If council flats weren’t dingy, we wouldn’t have such brilliant movies as the Mike Leigh-directed All or Nothing or Andrea Arnold’s Fish Tank and Red Road …

or such brilliant songs as the Orb’s “Little Fluffy Clouds” …

(see these reminiscences of the Orb’s two members, Youth and Dr. Alex Paterson, about composing music, together with the KLF, inside a council flat).

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

As I type this, Ireland Rep. are outplaying and defeating Sweden in the Euros. Yesterday, Ulster lost narrowly to Poland, and the day before that, Wales beat Slovakia. On the whole it’s been a good showing by the British Isles.

On the whole.

The English continue to disappoint their backers. During their game against the Russians, they were lions in possession but mouses in front of their opponents’ net. They squeaked in just one goal, a free kick, only for the Russians to equalize at the death. Then the Russian supporters chased the English supporters up and down the stadium and beat them up.

The Swedes have just equalized against the Irish.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

“I’m looking forward to Belgium’s game against the Italians,” I tell Karin. “The Belgians have been playing wonderfully these last few years.”

“Yes,” says Karin. “It must be because of Poirot.”