Come on you Hull

Giant's Causeway - my photo - note the lack of tourists. Just iconic polygons being lapped by the sea.


Great good is often born of one small act of kindness.


Yesterday was May 1st, the anniversary of daylight saving first being introduced in 1916, of the birth of Fats Waller in 1904 and the death of Barbara Cartland in 2000. But for me May 21st held another significance. It was my deadline for submitting my latest assignment as part of the creative writing course I am undertaking at Hull University.

The assignment was to write the first three chapters of a novel. I found it interesting because in my mind I have written the opening to a novel many times. Always looking for that killer paragraph that will want to make the reader to carry on and read the rest. This is what I decided upon:

As front doors go it’s nothing special. Even when it was fresh, the paint must have looked odd. A kind of off-red that owes its colour more to a dying and faded poppy, than to the freshness of a new bloom. I suppose the gloss must have been a job lot that the Council got cheaply somewhere. The fact that the door matches all the others in the row of houses at least diminishes its impact, if not its ugliness.

Well, I think we can be sure that I don't have a potential best-seller on my hands. Which brings me to a thought I have about any artistic endeavour - how do you know when it's finished? I could write and re-write my opening paragraph endlessly and never be happy with it. I bet if Vincent Van Gough was to see one of his paintings of sunflowers (he painted three) hanging in the National Gallery in London I bet he would feel the need to touch it up here and there.

I don't think you can ever be truely happy with an artistic creation, there will always be room for improvement. Which is why when I write anything I subscribe to the same philosophy as I do when I'm cleaning my house i.e. 'Sod it, that'll do!'

Thus it is that I have submitted a piece of work to those fine academics at Hull University (they might be reading this, so it's best to flatter them) knowing that it is less than perfect. Do I care? Not a jot. I'm just very pleased that I met the deadline and at long last my university year is over. I have that school holiday feeling as seemingly endless hot and lazy summer days are beckoning me. Well, if nothing else I should be able to spend more time on this blog and give you, my dear reader, the love and attention you deserve.

My visit to Northern Ireland was a roaring success. The weather as kinder than I thought and as far as I can remember with my Guinness damaged brain cells, I didn't feel the need to assert my masculinity and heterosexuality once. I must be improving with age.

Thanks must go to my dear friend Peter who is by far the most outgoing of the two of us and thus manages to elicit useful information from anyone within earshot. If I travel anywhere I research via the internet or the appropriate 'Rough Guide'.' Peter actually talks to people and they pass on useful local knowledge. Amazing.

As I mentioned in my last blog the main purpose of the visit was to visit the Giant's Causeway. My first sight of this geological wonder was from the cliffs that overlook it and I uttered those immortal words - 'Is that it?' From up on high it did seem to be a bit small. But once I was up close and personal it did take on a much more satisfying grandeur. I realise now that any photo I have ever seen of the Giant's Causeway does not feature tourists clambering all over it, so it is hard to get any sense of scale. So it wasn't the towering colossus I had imagined, but impressive nonetheless and the feature itself covers quite a bit of coastline, not just the iconic polygons being lapped by the sea that photographers find so alluring.

That was last weekend, but as I write this a whole new weekend stretches before me. And jolly exciting I expect it to be too. I will be getting up early in the morning to catch the first train from Hull to London, where I will be spending the day. Once at King's Cross I will be heading east towards the docklands and then Greenwich. This is such a lovely and interesting part of London that I know that I will easily pass the entire day there.

But the really exciting part of the weekend comes on Sunday afternoon, when the final matches of the season in the Premier League are played. My team is Hull City and they are teetering on the brink of relegation back to the Championship, depending how they and other teams do. To make matters worse they are playing the newly crowned Premier League Champions, Manchester United, so a crushing victory looks unlikely for Hull.

If Hull do go down then so be it. I've thoroughly enjoyed this season and seeing my club play in possibly the best football league in the world has been amazing. But it would be very nice to do it all again next year so I wonder if you could help me and Hull City out? All you need to do at 4.00pm on Sunday is chant 'Come on you Hull' for about 90 minutes (take a 15 minute break in the middle) and I'm sure that will do the trick. Remember though, that's 4.00 pm British Summer Time, because we've been messing with the clocks since 1916.

Sod it. That'll do.

Live long and prosper.

Upbeat

At the writing class I attend, the use of cliches is frowned upon. The sign of a lazy writer. But today is officially a rest day so I feel I am entitled to be lazy. So here goes - It's amazing how time flies. I say that because the events of this weekend one year ago are very clear in my mind. Well, the Sunday at least.

It was a very hot day, temperatures well into the twenties. My youngest son and I made our way to the local leisure centre to take part in two separate races. Not being very fit at the time, I took part in the 2k fun run. Despite being beaten out of sight by an 11 year old I enjoyed the experience. But I did feel somewhat inadequate compared to the real runners, including my son, who were getting ready for the gruelling 10k race. Could I ever manage that race? I doubted it.

My son put in a very commendable performance, despite the heat and a lack of any real training on his part. I was proud and envious. When both races were over, we made our way back to the car and as we did so someone spotted that I was wearing my Hull City shirt and ran up to tell me that City were 2 - nil up in the first leg of the Championship play-off against Watford.

Later that week I shed tears of joy as City finished the job at the KC Stadium and won 6 -1 on aggregate. Wembley here we come! The rest is history (whoops, lazy writing again). Seeing Dean Windass net that superb goal is something I will never forget.

What a difference a year makes (thought I'd go for the hat-trick, since we're on a footballing theme). I was back at the KC this afternoon to see City comprehensively beaten by Stoke. And although it isn't over until the morbidly obese female opera singer ceases her aria, I think the writing is on the wall and we face Championship football once more next season.

But what the hey! I've had a fantastic season, seen some of the world's best footballers and visited iconic grounds such as the Emirates and Stamford Bridge. And in 2 weeks I'll be at the KC to see the likes of Ronaldo, Rooney and Tevez put goals past us. Priceless. Since Christmas Hull City have been totally outclassed in the Premiership and have looked like a decent Championship side by comparison to their peers. And that's what they are - a decent Championship side. Which is a lot more than I could say 2 years ago when they narrowly avoided relegation from that league. Other clubs go down and bounce right back. Why not Hull City? What's best - to be beaten by fantastic teams every week or to see your side score lots of goals and win lots of games?

Of course, it is not only Hull City's fortunes that have changed in 12 months. I have changed too. There's quite a bit less of me for a start and tomorrow morning it's my turn to run with the big boys in the local 10k race.

As I've said before, God didn't build me with any form of long distance running in mind, so I'm a little bit nervous. But I've stuck religiously to the training guide provided by the local running club who organise the event and I've never missed a training run since I made my commitment to race 11 weeks ago.

I won't win. This is a race between me and the clock and if I can do it in under an hour I will be very pleased.

And if, like Hull City, I crash and burn at the last minute then at least I am glad to have had the experience and the courage to live the dream.

Live long and prosper.