Michael Broadwith End to End
I was quite moved by Ronaldo's 88th minute free kick to salvage the draw for Portugal v. Spain.
Then I could hear the relentless hysteria of Radio 5's commentator who seemed to think that every moment of France v. Australia was more sensational than the last. That was a painful racket chuntering on in the kitchen and was soon exchanged for the calmer waters of Record Review talking about Bruckner.
But, of a completely different order and incomprehensible to ordinary mortal long distance cyclists who were full of themselves for doing 217.888 miles in 12 Hours, in the early hours of the morning, Michael Broadwith arrived at John O'Groats 43 hours 25 minutes and 13 seconds after leaving Land's End, thus taking about half an hour off the long-standing record.
I've never found Twitter more useful and it was a compelling way to watch sport, the updates telling of how the Scottish weather in June did all it could to defend the old record by providing downpours of biblical proportions to make a ride that was never going to be comfortable considerably less so.
Nobody made him do it, of course, and it's up to him and there is some irony in waiting for weeks to go when the weather forecast looks favourable and then get caught in that. However, it is heroic by any sporting standards and the next time we see a millionaire footballer with tattoos and a silly hairstyle pretending he's been tripped up perhaps our thoughts will turn to some less publicized efforts more worthy of our admiration.
Top marks to Michael and I hope they don't mind me using one of their photos.
I was quite moved by Ronaldo's 88th minute free kick to salvage the draw for Portugal v. Spain.
Then I could hear the relentless hysteria of Radio 5's commentator who seemed to think that every moment of France v. Australia was more sensational than the last. That was a painful racket chuntering on in the kitchen and was soon exchanged for the calmer waters of Record Review talking about Bruckner.
But, of a completely different order and incomprehensible to ordinary mortal long distance cyclists who were full of themselves for doing 217.888 miles in 12 Hours, in the early hours of the morning, Michael Broadwith arrived at John O'Groats 43 hours 25 minutes and 13 seconds after leaving Land's End, thus taking about half an hour off the long-standing record.
I've never found Twitter more useful and it was a compelling way to watch sport, the updates telling of how the Scottish weather in June did all it could to defend the old record by providing downpours of biblical proportions to make a ride that was never going to be comfortable considerably less so.
Nobody made him do it, of course, and it's up to him and there is some irony in waiting for weeks to go when the weather forecast looks favourable and then get caught in that. However, it is heroic by any sporting standards and the next time we see a millionaire footballer with tattoos and a silly hairstyle pretending he's been tripped up perhaps our thoughts will turn to some less publicized efforts more worthy of our admiration.
Top marks to Michael and I hope they don't mind me using one of their photos.
