World Cup '26 - Our Exclusive, All You Need to Know, Preview

 World Cup fever is here again and the question that everyone is asking is, will our viewing experience be altered in any way by being hosted in the USA?*  You need not wait until the tournament begins because we have the answers right here, as we bring you the time-honoured tradition of the Ramblings Preview.

There will be more use of VAR ("Video assisted rubbish"), lengthy drinks-breaks  and some rules have been tweaked, notably the one that says the winning team receive a trophy. In future, the winning team will be required to present  the trophy to President Trump. As this is unlikely to be England, we won't worry about it.

I have a feeling that the TV coverage will be something like this ...

Wed June 17. England vs Croatia. Dallas

"...and you join us here high above the Irving C Feistershmeckel III stadium as the match begins. I'm Bob Bland and with me is Hiram Highslacker. Hiram, there's two teams out there but only one can win, right?
- Bob, that is so true. It's all about the goals. But it might be a draw if, say, they both score the same number of goals.
- Is that so? Sounds complicated. But as the umpire blows to start the match and one of the guys down there touches the ball, let's take a commercial break..."

.....

"...And welcome back to this soccerball ball game here in Dallas where it is a cool 90 in the shade, or at least it is for us here in the air-conditioned commentary room, I hate to think what it's like for the players down there on the field.
- Sure gonna be warm, Bob and you know, those England players, they usually play in the rain and the fog, this must be pretty damn strange for them. 
- Sure is, Hiram, and can you update us about the scores?
- Glad to, Bob, there's been a goal, maybe two, but before I give you the details, here's a reminder about Alvaro's Funeral and Pizza Parlour in downtown Dallas - the place to go when you need to bury someone but just gotta get something to eat first. Do it all at Alvaros.
- Thanks Hiram, and down there on the grass, seems like the umpire is holding up a red card and waving it around, what the heck is that all about?
- Probably a helpful message from one of the sponsors, Bob, I know that Tom's Taxis here in Dallas have all-red cabs and nobody has cleaner ashtrays than Tom's.
-That's good to know, Hiram. And stay tuned to this channel, folks, so you don't miss a thing but it's time for a commercial break....

Tues 23 June. England vs Ghana. Boston

"...Bob Bland with you once again coming live from the CleanerCoal arena here in Boston, sposored by Cleanercoal, the carbon sulphur mix that is so good for your throat, and with me is the stats and play expert, Hiram Highslacker. How's it going down on the gridiron, Hiram?
- Bob, it's all happening down there. England have kicked the ball. Ghana have kicked it back. Then several players kicked it and it went up in the air and of them actually hit it with his head. Can you believe that? Both of the quarterbacks have been in action, picking up the ball and distributing out to the linemen. Right now the play is halted because there is a VAR review about a comment one of the England team made to an assistant linejudge. I gather they have put out a call for a specialist in some strange language called Geordie. While we're waiting, I'll give you a full rundown on all the scores and plays, but first a word from Fatbuster Burgers, our special sponsors here this evening...

Sat 27 June. England vs Panama. New York

"...and as you rejoin us after that short break, it seems that Panama have scored again but we have to wait for the VAR review as to whether the celebrations went on too long, so while we are waiting, let's have a commercial break ..."

-&-&-&-&-&-&-&-&-&

* Yes, there are some trivial matches in Mexico and Canada but I've done the "slumped by the cantina" gag too many times and I can't think of anything worth saying about Canada.

The Camblanes Affair

BBC News Feb 6,2026

 My friend Hercule Poirot and I had been taking a relaxing motoring holiday in south-west France. The warmth of the air and the beautiful countryside did much to restore him after a number of difficult cases and his moustaches were in excellent fettle. Little did we suspect, as we proceeded down a long, tree-lined avenue into Camblanes et Meynac, what awaited us. 

Poirot was enjoying himself observing the locals as we drove slowly through the town towards the Hotel de Bristol. "See, Hastings, that man with the baguettes. And there in the square, the old gentlemen playing at boules, while across by the church I observe the ladies going to mass. Ah, all is as it should be...but sacre bleu this is very strange. Look there, Hastings"

I looked across the street as he directed but saw only a few townsfolk going about their business. I said as much. Poirot shook his head "Oh, my friend, you do not look, you only glance. But I have seen....well, let us await developments. It may be nothing at all". 

We arranged comfortable rooms at the hotel, enjoyed an excellent dinner and took a stroll in the late evening, walking around the old square as did others similarly inclined. Poirot raised his hat politely to those we passed but suddenly he gripped my arm. 

"There, Hastings, there. You see them?"
"Really, Poirot, I have no idea ...good lord. Those two!"
"Exactement, mon ami. Two men with pigtails, wearing the silken robes of the Manchu dynasty and holding chopsticks. They seek to blend in but they cannot evade the eyes of Hercule Poirot. Hastings, we have sinister Orientals in our midst!"
"But what on earth put you on to them?"
"As we came into town, Hastings. I mentioned it to you but of course you saw nothing. You did not see the huge radar dish on the roof of the Villa Marguerite. You failed to observe the cameras all along the Rue Faubourg, each marked CSA, the initials of the China Spying Agency. Nor did you see the barbed wire and watchtowers that protect the mysterious Chateau Mysterieux, nor that intercontintal ballistic missile cunningly concealed amidst the chimney pots of the Mairie. They did not fool me. I have made certain arrangements".

Even as we walked back to our hotel, there was a blare of sirens and several black Citroens full of gendarmes converged on the square. Within moments our quarry were apprehended. One of the policemen approached us respectfully.

"Inspector Maigret sends his compliments, messieurs, and will be round to join you for a cognac as soon as our birds are safely locked up and he has informed the press of his coup against these spies"
"Poirot, surely you will not let him take all the credit for this?" I gasped. My friend flicked an imaginary speck of dust from his immaculate cuff.
"We are en vacances, mon ami. Let some other fictional detective have some publicity, hein?" And he sat in a deep armchair, stroked his moustaches and smiled benevolently.

Winning in the Snow

The Olympic Winter Games begin this week in Cortina, Italy. There is much excitement about the prospects for the British contestants. Let us not get too carried away. In 1988 and 1992 Britain won no medals. We did win two in 1994 but did not surpass this until 2014 and also 2018 when five were clocked. But 2022 saw a return to form with just two again.

Credit: Lebedev Evgeniy 

It's just not fair.  We are used to a certain sort of weather which in turn produces a certain sort of ground covering (see above), and it is not the pristine, fluffy deep snow that the skiers seek, nor are we blessed with lots of lakes that freeze up nicely for the skaters. It is time that there was a sports festival based on conditions in which our gallant athletes can truly compete:

• Slushboarding - contestants race over a pot-holed, slush covered road, trying to avoid keep left signs, speed bumps, badly parked cars and wobbling pedestrians. 
• Skating on thin ice - open to politicians of all parties as they make promises they cannot keep, affirm adherence to codes of conduct and swear loyalty to their leaders.
• The Overpass Dash - sprinters must race up and over ice-covered bridges to make a train connection
• Snowball fights - for individuals or teams. Spectators observe at their peril. No putting lumps of ice in the balls.
• Building a snowman, with both speed and artistic quality events. Scarfs may embody national colours. Competitors must supply lumps of coal and carrots.
• Stamping on puddles - Points are awarded for the height of splashes. 
• Snow on the line - A city tube network is crippled due to bad weather. Contestants must find the path between two stations that maximises the announcements about extensive delays, has the least useful replacement services and the most time spent shivering on a platform waiting for trains that are terminated at the preceding stop.

Readers! Suggest new events for the Realistic Winter Games. 

The best suggestions will be forwarded to the organisers and any adopted will win a fabulous, no-expenses paid holiday to the first AirBnB we can find that will give us a free room in exchange for a plug in these hallowed columns. Send in your ideas to the usual address. Terms and conditions apply and, in accordance with the spirit of the Olympics, will be supplied in exchange for a massive backhander in a brown envelope.

 

Is it Art

 

source: Lynn News

 

A poignant drama played itself out this week in the Fens. Not the story about the idiot at Sainsbury's, the other one. The Banksy that wasn't. I imagine that all of Kings Lynn has been talking about nothing else.

If you are familiar with my philosophy of good art - Art - first expounded in this very column just 22 short years ago - then you will understand that I do not class Banksy or his imitators as producers of Art. Some of it raises a brief, wry smile which quickly fades. But others believe that, if a bit of graffiti is by Banksy, then it is valuable but if not, then it is just a nuisance to be obliterated as soon as convenient. That alone tells you his stuff is not Art, for surely if something is genuinely good art then it does not matter who created it.

Amongst the believers must be counted the authorities in Kings Lynn who, notified of the mysterious appearance of the defacement of a car park wall, rushed to protect it. I am amazed at their moderation. Surely the wall should have been instantly dismantled, brick by brick, and rebuilt in a newly created Banksy in Fenland exhibition in the Town Hall. The gift shop sales would have gone through the roof. 

Alas, protective screen or not, it appears that the hand of the master was lacking and the graffiti has been demoted. I have no idea how they can tell. I mean, they could have put up a discreet sign saying "Attributed to Banksy" or perhaps "School of Banksy" or "From the studio of Banksy" and no doubt the populace would still flock in. As it is, that screen must be taken down and put back in the cupboard labelled "Reserved for real Banksy's".

I don't how the whole process works. Are there inspectors snooping around town centres looking for works by the Master?  Do they have peaked caps marked "Art Warden" and the power to tell people to move along and not to obstruct the work of the screen builders? Indeed, once they find something that might be a Banksy, do they take up position, arms crossed and stern looks to the front, and wait for reinforcements?

How are the good folk of Kings Lynn coping with their bitter disappointment? Were the council in full session, back-slapping and broad smiles as they contemplated the massive corporate jolly that selling the windfall would produce? And then the grim faced town clerk sidles up to the Mayor.

"Not now, Albert, they're opening the next bottle"
"This can't wait, your worship. I'm afraid it's bad news. We've heard from the experts ..."
"Nay, lad, spit it out then. What has thou to say?"
"The Banksy - I - I can't say it..."

and a worried silence emanates from the two worthies that gradually chills the celebrants and the chance of a month visiting the twin town of Honolulu begins to fade. As they slip out into the night, in ones and twos, they can hear the clerk on his phone to the works department telling them to stand down.

It's a tough business, the art game, I'm telling you.

Sen. Cassius Unveils NewTriumphal Arch

 

 Cassius: "Hey, it's not quite as big as I thought"

 

Senator Cassius, Imperator and Pontifex Maximus of Rome, stunned onlookers at a gathering in the Temple of Jupiter yesterday by proclaiming his intention to knock it down and to replace it with a grand triumphal arch, writes our correspondent who is wondering if a life of servitude in the galleys would be a sensible career move.

Speaking to members of his Sycophant party, Sen. Cassius said "This is going to be the best arch in the world. It is entirely original and my own idea. Constantine, Trajan, Marble, that Gallic guy de Triomphe, they're all losers. All those other arches, whereever in the world they are, are just copies and I'm going to sue them all for stealing my design, which I own and what's more, it's mine"

Asked about the likely consequences of destroying the great and sacred temple of the ruler of the gods, Sen. Cassius said "I'm the most devout and religious man in the world, right, but that temple is occupying a prime piece of real estate, there's a deal to be done here with the priests of Jupiter and I'm the man to do it. They get five days to leave, and I, in the name of the people, take over the temple. There, everyone wins. Did I tell you that I invented this arch? Because I did and anyone who says otherwise is a traitor to Rome".

Senator Casca, in charge of the building of the arch, made a brief presentation. He said it would be named the Arch of Cassius, Saviour of Rome, in honour of the Senator's role in assisting J. Caesar to retire. He thought that others who aided in the transfer of power, such as himself, might also be named on the arch, perhaps somewhere round the back in very small letters. "I am not in any way envious" he said "I greatly admire my glorious leader. But, you know, it was my knife that he used on that fateful day and he still hasn't given it back, of course it is a great honour for me that he has kept it but actually it was a part of  a set and it would be nice if I could put it back in the box with the others, makes it complete, you know what I'm saying".

A special poem is to be written for the unveiling of the arch by Cinna the Poet. "He's not the best poet" admitted Casca "In fact he usually gets a lot of shtick for his bad verses but it seems all the real poets have fled to Parthia or Gaul so we'll have to make do. And he's cheap."