A pause in proceedings

The blog will fall silent for almost three weeks now. I'm publishing this about ten hours before we set off to the United States for Tim and Susan's marriage celebration and our holiday in New England and Canada.

For the record, our itinerary looks like this:

9 August - Fly to Boston, and travel onwards to Woodstock, Vermont
11 August - Tim & Susan's marriage celebration in St James Church, Woodstock, followed by a reception at the Woodstock Inn
13-14 August - In Bethlehem, New Hampshire, visiting the White Mountains
15-18 August - with friends, Tad Meyer and Ann Stevenson, in North Berwick, Maine
18-25 August - Cruising from Boston to Montreal
26 August - Fly back to Boston
27 August - Return home
28 August - Return to the UK

I shall become Archdeacon of Bolton again at the beginning of September, but will try to update the blog with the story of our transatlantic trip before I do.

Farewell for now!

And on the next day....

Our second instalment of Olympic excitement was entirely different, but no less enjoyable. We had tickets for Women's Volleyball at Earl's Court on Sunday afternoon. 

Now I probably knew even less about volleyball than about hockey, but had watched matches on TV earlier in the Games to prepare. One of those was an epic late-night victory for Team GB's women over Algeria, ranked much higher in the world. No one expected GB to win any matches in these Games, so that was a triumph in itself for an determined bunch of girls whose funding was withdrawn a couple of years ago and had to virtually pay their own way to the Olympics. They deserve a share of the admiration that has gone to more successful British Olympians.

We were going to watch Team GB, ranked 69 in the world, play their last match, against Japan, ranked 5. In the unlikely event of a Team GB victory they would progress through to the next round, to the amazement of the volleyball world. 

Come on, GB!

To be fair they never stood much of a chance against the Japanese, but that didn't stop us cheering every point and there were periods when they matched their more experienced opponents point for point. A nasty injury to one of the GB players marred the occasion, and the expected result duly came. But we had our moments of national pride, and admired the extraordinary athleticism of these women who, again and again, saved points by playing the ball with lightning reactions, inches from the ground.

A second match, between Italy and Russia was closely fought to a very high standard and was finally won by Russia in the deciding 5th set. Two 6' 8" tall Russian girls proved too much for the otherwise skilful Italians.

How on earth did she reach that?

The Italians block at the net

I was so glad to have made the trip to London for the Olympics. It was a 'once in a lifetime' opportunity that fell at just the right time for me. Even our little taste will stay with me for ever. 

I truly and sincerely thank God for sport, which has brought me so much delight and excitement throughout my life, even though I have never played with skill or distinction on any field or court. These Olympic Games in London are about as good as it gets, and have lifted my spirit to great heights. Another ingredient in an extraordinary sabbatical mix.

My Games weren't quite over. After my return from London I also went, on Tuesday, to the semi-final of the football tournament at Old Trafford, accompanied by my colleague, Bishop Chris Edmondson, and 70,000 others. We saw an impressive Brazil team defeat GB's conquerors, South Korea 3-0 to book a place in the final. There was a carnival atmosphere, with samba drums in the stands beating the rhythm and the Brazilian players responding on the field. 

What a fantastic 7 days! 5 international matches in four different sports! Have I gone to heaven?

O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures for ever.

Psalm 107:1

Super Saturday

I was nearly there. About four times the length of a javelin throw and about 4 hours away from the historic, golden moment when Yorkshire's Jessica Ennis crossed the line at the end of the 800 metres to confirm the heptathlon victory that started the gold rush for Team GB's athletes on Super Saturday. I might need to embellish the story for future generations, but just to be on Olympic Park on that historic day was a worthwhile consolation for not being in the stadium itself. A bronze, rather than a gold.

The facts may not excite blog-readers that much. Our family bid for tickets last year yielded no more than hockey and volleyball, plus a couple of football matches at Old Trafford. Kathryn opted out once it was clear that this was the weekend before our flight to the USA. Jessica was the inspiration behind the application and was still up for it, even though she was flying to the States even sooner, on the following Monday. So Kathryn's tickets were taken up by a friend from Beverley days, Peter Kelham, whose parents were 'Minster marvels', and who came through our youth groups while we were there. Now he lives in London and works for Southwark Diocese Board of Education.

I had travelled down to Dorking on Friday and stayed with Jessica. We were among the early arrivals on the Park, with dark clouds threatening above. I had already sensed the upbeat mood in London, travelling through the day before, but the approach to Olympic Park was something else. Cheerful, enthusiastic 'Gamesmakers' lined the route to welcome everyone and build the anticipation. Olympic Park is a theme park dedicated to the ultimate in human sporting endeavour. When our children were much younger - during my last sabbatical in fact - we took them to Disney World in Florida and watched their wide-eyed amazement at everything they saw and did. Olympic Park reminded me of Disney World, but this time I was the child. Instead of Mickey Mouse, we spotted Rebecca Adlington with Chris Evans on the BBC balcony.

I can't claim to be a great fan of hockey but the two women's matches we saw were thoroughly enjoyable. Australia beat South Africa and world champions, Holland, triumphed over South Korea. The Dutch were silky smooth in their movement of the ball and looked a good bet for a gold medal [they have now reached the final]. There was a high level of skill on view, even to the novice eye.

After an enjoyable morning of hockey, we capitalised on the freedom of ticket-holders to explore the park and headed to 'Park Live' with thousands of others to eat our picnic and watch other events unfold on the big screen - Usain Bolt in the 100m heats and Jessica Ennis throwing the javelin.

Jessica prepares to throw

Park Live acclaims her

The atmosphere was unforgettable. The golds had already started to arrive in the rowing and support for Ennis was at fever pitch. Peter was astonished to find that his sister, a great friend of Jessica,  was among the 220,000 on the park, and we met up with her. Eventually we slowly made our way off Olympic Park drinking in the atmosphere and dodging the showers. There was so much to see and so many excited and happy people, with the Gamesmakers and the armed services personnel making a wonderful contribution.

It was a day I shall never forget. The Olympic Games are proving a fantastic success and I was able to experience something of that at first hand. If only the church could run as smoothly and fill people with as much joy and hope!

More seriously, I am beginning to get the feeling that Britain is not going to be the same again after these games, that they will prove to be a national watershed, in a positive way, rather like the death of Princess Diana did in unhappier times. Commentators have remarked that we have become so much more at ease with our multicultural national identity, as supremely illustrated by our three contrasting athletics gold-medallists on Super Saturday. And we may just be able to become a more cheerful and optimistic nation. Let's see. It's vital that the Church doesn't get left behind as Britain rides the crest of this wave.

Yes, that is a Team GB T-Shirt!

Praise the Lord! Sing to the Lord a new song, his praise in the assembly of the faithful.

Psalm 150:1

Headingley Sunrise

A yellow ball was spotted in the sky over Headingley Cricket Ground on Thursday 2 August. This was not the latest idea of the England and Wales Cricket Board to brighten up Test Matches, but a natural phenomenon known as the 'sun', which is not now commonly seen over cricket grounds. There were, of course, the familiar black clouds as well, but they produced only one heavy shower and allowed all but three overs of play on the first day of the eagerly awaited second contest between England and South Africa.

Whilst Charles Simeon remains my companion, the sabbatical focus for August is fun and family, with sport featuring strongly. Eldest son Andrew joined me on Wednesday 1 August for our first trip to Old Trafford Football Ground for many years to see a match in the Olympic Games tournament, between Spain and Morocco. Spain had already been eliminated, so the match didn't have the edge it might have done, and it finished as a 0-0 draw, but was more entertaining than it sounds and the Olympic experience was unique. It was good to go to a football match with a very different atmosphere from a cold Saturday afternoon in January at Elland Road, Leeds.

The next morning, though, we were off to Headingley. I have been attending Test Matches there for over 50 years. My first memory is of the summer of 1959, one of the hottest in living memory, and being taken by my aunt, who nurtured my love of cricket as a small boy, to see an England side with Cowdrey, Barrington and Trueman playing against India. The image that has stayed with me is of a member of the crowd being stretchered out suffering from sunstroke. I don't think I've ever seen that since.

Needless to say, I have a deep affection for Headingley, home of Yorkshire cricket, even though it is far from the most elegant Test Match ground in the country. It has a reputation for a pitch and atmospheric conditions that produce more than their share of dramatic cricket. Most famous is the defining moment of 'Botham's Ashes' in 1981, when England snatched victory out of almost certain defeat by Australia, thanks to the exploits of the great cricketing legend. I am ashamed of my own part on that historic day. I was a curate in Worksop and had a day off on the day when it all unfolded, certain that England would slide to defeat early in the day, I decided to stay at home and do the gardening. It's up there among the 5 worst decisions of my life, but it has provided a helpful sermon illustration on the story of Thomas, the apostle who wasn't there when it mattered.

Anyway, there is a new generation of England legends now, but they had been humiliated by a strong South Africa in the first Test in the series. Andrew and I gasped out loud when we heard England captain Andrew Strauss announce that England would bowl first when he won the toss, and didn't think much of the omission of star spin bowler, Graham Swann. Somehow, England don't seem to get Headingley. There is a long history of questionable decisions there by England selectors and captains based on misunderstanding and mistrust of the playing conditions. If they'd listened to my experience going back to 1959, they might not have got it wrong again.

Anyway, it was a good day's cricket, with only one rainstorm (that's good in this summer), and great to spend it with Andrew who shares my love of the game. In fact, he stayed with the match for two more days while I treacherously deserted it for lesser sports further south. Sadly, the rain came and had the final say, and the match was drawn.

I shall need to work some time off in May next year if I'm to see much of the next Headingley Test. Sadly, there is no Ashes match there in 2013. We have to make do with New Zealand.

He makes me lie down in green pastures..... he restores my soul.

Psalm 23:2,3