I'm feeling quite pleased with myself at having written 3000 words (of the new book) over the past three days, but am well aware that (a) they are not exactly dazzling words, rather raw material that will have to be re-worked later, and (b) that the distractions are queuing up.
Yesterday it was the necessary early finish as I dashed off to get the train to York (more on that in a moment). This morning, being Thursday, it's the excellent Melvyn Bragg and In Our Time on BBC Radio 4 (0900h - 0945h). I love Bragg's work, his adherence to the notion that the
Okay - ten minutes before Melvyn starts. Time to think football. While I was at York, with my son and a bumper crowd of 6,057, watching a enthralling and passionate 1-1 draw with Mansfield, my other team, Chelsea, were being well and truly stuffed, at home, by a rampant Newcastle United, for whom Senegalese striker Papiss Cisse scored two absolute blinders. Well done them. As for York, they played well enough, but generally struggled to find that killer ball; and when they did their finishers let them down. Our goal was actually an own-goal, off the foot of their man-mountain of a defender who goes by the splendid name of Exodus Geohaghon.
To the radio. There may be a PS to this later.