Something For The Weekend 3

Ten years ago this week - back in the days of cold autumns - I was sat in front of a roaring fire sipping a very fine whisky and watching the match, when this happened.

I think this level of whatwasthatness overrides even the deepest loathing of football. It’s not really football as much as ridiculousness. Even the England fans stood and applauded.

I stood out of my seat. I ohmyGodded to an empty house. I spilled the whisky. I didn’t mind. I’m not sure another player would have thought to try this, much less have the whateveritisness to pull it off. But then this is Zlatan. As was once said of Graeme Souness when he was a player, if Zlatan was made of chocolate he’d eat himself.

The joy of truly great players playing for their country against other great players playing for their country. Alas - and breaking a sequence that began with little me in front of a small TV in 1974 - this World Cup isn’t for me for all the obvious reasons, which will at least relieve me of the irritation of watching Jordan Pickford yelling at his defenders every time he makes a Sunday save for the cameras out of the easiest block. And I won’t have to watch him spill it into the path of an oncoming striker either.

Instead, I’ve decided to dedicate the hours I would’ve been watching to reading. My easily distracted brain finds everything to think about when reading. I read a sentence about Ireland and my mind drifts off to autumns around Waterford, to the west coast I need to explore more, to that Christmas in Cork and The Waterboys at the peak of their powers in Dublin in 1988. But for the next few weeks I will be be trying, at least, to turn the pages with focus.

Here’s my short stack.

The Lost Rainforests of Britain by Guy Shrubsole

God Only Knows: The Story of Brian Wilson, the Beach Boys and the California Myth by David Leaf

Liberation Day by George Saunders

The Marriage Portrait by Maggie O’Farrell

It may not look enough for a month but with reading I’m slower than a milk float with a puncture. Please please feel free to tell me what I should read after, or indeed instead.

The previous ones have had so many listens, I’ve made a playlist of what has been filling my ears while I’ve been working. Thank you for your emails and comments about the others; I hope you like this one.

It may be a little vanilla, but much as I love Sleaford Mods they aren’t really conducive to working. Almost always the soundtrack is instrumental if I’m writing, but this week has been taken with all but, including research ahead of speaking with Delia this Sunday at Cafe Murano, the latest in the monthly book club series I host there, so there are voices.

There isn’t a person I’ve mentioned Sunday to who hasn’t gone ‘Delia? Wow’, such is the admiration in which she’s held. I wrote the following on my Instagram but in case we aren’t connected there…: I mentioned it to an 80 year old friend and he stopped in his tracks and said ‘Are you really? Delia Delia?’ And when I told him yes he said ‘Can you tell her that I’m so grateful to her. When my wife had her terrible diagnosis I knew we’d have only one more Christmas together and it would be me that would have to cook for it. I bought Delia’s book and just followed everything she said to the letter and it was perfect…me who can’t cook, made Christmas lunch for the whole family. I’ll never forget her for that.’

I discovered many things about Delia this week, perhaps my favourite being that she baked the cake for the Stones 1969 Let It Bleed album cover.

Just doing that would be enough for most people.

Anyway, the weekend is here. I hope the sun shines on you, and that your team - in whatever game you love - wins.

Mark