I Guess That’s Why They Call Them The Blues

The whole world has gone blue today.  The streets are blue, the cafes are blue, the papers are blue and social media are blue.  This blog is blue – but then it always has been.  And the reason for this cerulean craziness, this azure animation, this marine madness?  Why the navy lark?  Why the sky-blue antics?

Need you ask?  As the whole world knows (or at least the whole of England and Wales) Leicester City are an ace away from winning the premier league.

But none of this is as surprising as the fact that I, who have reached the age of 58 without evincing any enthusiasm for football, should give a toss.  I, who have no interest in the game others see as beautiful but which to me looks like a bunch of men spitting and sliding about in mud: I, who have never been able to see any point in these Saturday-afternoon terraces of shouting men (even though they are now joined by women and children), these gaggles of excited commentators, these interminable pool-results – why should I, who would a million times rather watch Shakespeare at the Globe, care about Leicester City at Old Trafford?

Well, I don’t know.  I guess I’ve just been caught up in it – and to be honest, anything that causes the city to celebrate is good.  It’s been an excellent year or two for Leicester, what with finding Richard and now this – and I’m happy to be happy for those to whom it all means something.

The History Boys

On the subject of Shakespeare, it surely cannot have escaped even the most soccer-mad amongst you that last week was the 400th anniversary of the old boy’s death.  By tradition, since he was born at around the same time but the exact date is unknown, his birthday is celebrated on the same day, 23rd April.  And you can’t move on the Beeb for celebrations of his work. There was a spectacle from the RSC on interpretations of Shakespeare which I found interesting but a bit – well, spectacular, especially the bit where a gaggle of actors disputed how to read ‘To be or not to be’ and were joined on stage by Prince Charles.  It was fun but – I dunno, kinda cheesy:


Plus, I’ve been catching up with ‘The Hollow Crown,’ a sequence of history plays from Richard II to Henry V featuring Jeremy Irons, Rory Kinnear and Tom Hiddleston.  I don’t know the history plays too well, so it’s been an education for me and has sent me scurrying to find my Complete Works and read along with the series.  Simon Russell Beale is terrific as Falstaff, as is Tom Hiddleston – who is of course the man of the moment after his triumph in ‘The Night Manager.’


That’s all for today.  Let’s hope Leicester City’s crown will not be hollow…

Kirk out

PS This just in – the latest compound verb – to question-ask