Curtains for TSB

I had the weekend all planned.

France

This Sunday, the Pride of New Zealand; The All Blacks, face the perfidious French in the RWC® final.

Cheating Bastards

I've been quite enjoying all the RWC® matches, even the smaller (by reputation and skill levels) teams have put up a good fight, and I've seen plenty of good sport and good sportsmanship.

With one exception.

It's a lovely day

The view of the valley from our deck is full of swirling mist, making it look very magical.

The power of Q

Has anyone noticed the similarity in appearance of John Kirwan (Ex All Black and coach of Japan) and Q from Star Trek the next generation?

Anthems

We, like most of New Zealand watched the first Rugby World Cup (RWC) games on Friday and Saturday

Done, Down and Out

We survived.

I'm going to the World Cup

This has been a very long and strange week.

The furniture has arrived

I mentioned last week that we had bought some "pieces" of stylish furniture from a nice place in the Wairarapa.  They arrived earlier this week, but we've only just got them upstairs into the lounge.

Early Sunday

Watched the ABs thump the Welsh.  Good game, but now I'm tired, so back to bed.

Go the ABs.

The Last of Days

The end for some

Not perhaps in the biblical sense (isn't it odd, that our culture is impregnated with so many biblical references, even in this increasingly secular society?) but we have 6 days of school left.

Well not strictly true.

We have 6 days left before the prizegiving and the seniors disappear for their study leave and their big exams.

It has become apparent that my senior computing class is reacting to the diminishing number of remaining days in the usual way.

1. The "I know" group. These students have been working to a careful plan since week 1. Their work is being handed in for assessment and grading in good time. Almost all will pass.

2. The "yeah, yeah" group. They've started to increase their work rate over the last term, rushing in their assessments as the deadline looms. Many if not most will pass.

3. The "Oh Shit" group. Every time I announce the number of remaining days, they look shocked and betrayed. How could I have let them down so badly? Why didn't I remind them that there were only so many days left ages ago? It was my fault. I should have pushed them harder. It was my fault; I should have given them more homework (as if much was done by them if I ever gave it out). It was my fault; I should have done the work for them. Maybe one or two will pass.

4. The "I don't give a f*ck" group. They've given up. They have no idea what they have to do, they make no effort to catch up, and they don't seem to care. (They do, or at least some of them. Sometimes I can see the expressions of despair crossing their young features. Then the next day, it's back to the blank, emotionless mask) some in this group don't even know what planet they're on, let alone what the date is. The Marijuana crop has been good this year. None will pass.

Student being told 6 days left until exam

I cannot remember what group I would have been in when I was at school.  I like to think I would have been in group 1, but I was probably in group 2/3 when I was at high school, group 2 when I went to technical college, and definitely group 1 when I went back to University in the 90s.

I don't blame or get angry with the students.  I try and cajole them to get on with it, but I know that for some, the idea of working to a deadline is completely alien.  Their maturing teenage brains are still in adolescent configuration, and they don't always respond in a logical manner.

We do our best.  I know that most will mature into likable, responsible young adults, but for some the road to maturity will be hard.

Roll on the prizegiving

PS Highlight of the year. Tana Umaga, the last captain of the All Blacks will be at the prizegiving, presenting one of his scholarships. It was a very decent thing to do, encouraging academic and sporting excellence from many disadvantaged areas in New Zealand. For many of our students (and staff) it will be the highlight of their school year. For any non-New Zealanders reading this, please be aware that:



1. Football (Rugby Union) is the next thing to a state religion in NZ

2. The All Blacks (The NZ national Rugby team) are deified (unless they lose, especially lose to Australia)

3. Tan Umaga is/was the high priest

Sport

Lots of blogs are mentioning sport recently, ManOfErrors is getting a lot of comments, with memories of past glories of caliper-laden soccer afficianados.
Now I will recognise that NZ is a sport mad country, where everyone is encouraged to go out and get active.
Why?
We have Taffy at Nuova Lazio High, who is mad keen on mountain biking (MB). He has helped to develop a (reportedly) magnificent MB track in the glorious hills surrounding the balmy valley of Nuova Lazio. At least that is what I think he said at last appell, sometimes it's difficult to work out what he is saying. I think he's fallen of his MB once to often, and is suffering from serious brain damage, like most sportsmen.

I hear reports on the wireless radio, and the wireless television of chaps doing wonderful things on emerald green paddocks;of coughing up the pill, of ball in hand (I thought they always had to do that in Rugby Union Football(RUF); of the secret black arts of the scrum(mage); of brave chaps running and playing with one testicle hanging out (have these chaps not heard of personal protectors?

what I believe our American friends would call a jockstrap, or at least good manners);many cries of "that's gotta hurt", of course it has to bloody hurt, they've just been hit/trampled/punched/choked/thrown/hit again/kicked/jumped on/butted/kneed/bitten/(and I strongly suspect in one instance French Kissed).


Reports on a strange variation of RUF called soccer, where 11 chaps kick a ball up and down another emerald green field (this time), where they are not seemingly allowed to handle the ball at all (unless it is a mysterious entity called the "Hand of God Maradonna")
Reports from an occupation called netball, where young ladies (scantily dressed and of a delicate mien)stand about, occasionally trot, and throw a ball to each other. This one is almost civilised.



Reports of beach volleyball....no I cannot go on, it is simply too much for a man of my advancing years and high blood pressure, but I have recorded some of the girls' games on the Digital Versatile Disc Recording Apparatus.
Sport is supposed to be relaxing.
At its most energetic it consists of 11 chaps, properly attired in gleaming white, wasting their time on a beautifully mown lawn of epic proportions, while we, the real sportsmen sit in deck-chairs under a brilliant sun centered in an azure dome and sip gin and tonics, and rumble quietly to each other about things of the day.
No sweat.
No blood.
And definitely no bloody women.



Ah well, a large whisky calls, while I watch our gallant 15 thrash the living daylights out of those ugly Welsh. Watched on that marvellous invention called Satellite Television, linked to my wireless television. This way I did not have to go to my well deserved bed too late.