Back On The Chain Gang

Three cracking days at Cheltenham, all involving degrees of inebriation, two culminating in a curry and one generating a profit. For four days every Spring it really is the best place on earth.

My age is catching up with me and the days at the Festival left me footsore and brainsore. I then refereed a decent enough game of rugby on the Saturday and I'm still stretching out the stiffness six days later. No rugby this weekend coming because I have the technical rehearsal for the production of Anne Frank's Diary wherein I am treading the boards next week. I know my lines but not necessarily in the right order. This can be very confusing for my fellow thespians. I put it down to my age. And no I'm not playing a nazi - why does everyone ask me that?

The beautifully prepared Ireland won the Six Nations and the richly deserving Brian O'Driscoll thereby got the send-off he deserved. If you bump into me I will explain how that arch poseur Steve Walsh once again got the last decision of a major international wrong. He is a very good referee with a peculiar gift for unpunished big errors. While we're on the subject of rugby, can anyone please tell me how it is other than confoundingly stupid for England to have agreed to play a test match in New Zealand less than a week after the Premiership final thus inevitably denying themselves a coterie of their best players .

On the subject of Brian O'Driscoll, Keith Wood opined that O'Driscoll has been one of the three greatest figures of the professional era, alongside Richie McCaw and Dan Carter. It is telling that an Irish commentator could so readily ignore the career of the only Northern Hemisphere player ever to have lifted the World Cup, Martin Johnson. This omission would be deemed a calumny if it involved other than an Englishman. Hey ho.

I was never conscious of him as Viscount Stansgate, saw him speak as Anthony Wedgwood Benn and observed him with grudging affection as Tony Benn. The reaction to his death has been interesting and will get a post of its own. As will my confession about the middle-aged good sense that underlay my recent purchase of a new car. Be back soon.