Posts Tagged ‘Olympic’

Hypocrisy abounds at the Olympics, once more …

Sprinter Kim Collins is on his way home after the St Kitts and Nevis Olympic Federation pulled their greatest athlete out of the London Games citing disciplinary reasons. The 36-year-old, who won the 100m world title in 2003, was notable only by his absence with his lane empty as the 100m heats got underway at the Olympic stadium on Saturday.

A furious Collins said he’d been withdrawn from the Games for visiting his wife at a hotel and would never again run for his country, a small Caribbean nation, complaining he had been shown a lack of respect.

I reckon he looks one way cool dude. Actually most of them do. I must say, I really admired their ties when they were in the opening ceremony – even tweeted about it. I want a St Kitts and Nevis tie! Want!

“I could be wrong but I don’t see why it should be such a problem,” Collins said. “I would have better luck if I went out with some chick and came back and there wouldn’t be a bit of a problem. I honestly don’t see what is the big deal. I’m a grown man with kids, about to have grandkids.”

The St. Kitts and Nevis team said it “regrettably announced” that Collins, who it described as a “national hero,” was leaving the Olympics. Obviously seeking to de-focus on the “he visited his wife, oo-er missus”  side of the story, they commented:

“Mr. Collins departure is down to his repeated absences from training sessions and also for refusing to respond to repeated phone calls and emails by team manager and coaches,” it said in a statement. “Furthermore, Mr. Collins did not make an appearance for registration for his events at the Olympic Village (on Friday) as requested.”

Collins will not be hanging around in London for the 200m and sprint relay, having had the chance to race in the 100m wrenched away from him.

“I’m about to go and change my flight and go home,” Collins told a London radio station. “And see my kids who I haven’t seen for a while. For me it’s a done deal. I’ve been disrespected for too long for too many years.”

The opening ceremony flag-bearer for his country was apparently expected by his national federation not to leave the Olympic Village.

Whereas, if he had stayed, and presumably cheated on his wife, he would have been able to enjoy using as many of the 150,000 free condoms distributed to the athletes by British maker Durex as he liked – that’s 15 rubbers per athlete, so presuming they only use them with another person, that’s a lot of shagging going on, right there – not to mention the other miscellaneous makes of donated condoms floating around, (if you will forgive the mental image that rather unfortunate pun brings to mind), including the rather wonderful Boxing Kangaroo condoms donated for the Australian team, with the great slogan “For the gland downunder”.

Caroline Buchanan

So, random sex with some wired young athlete in the village so you can both get to sleep without Stillnox, no problem. Nipping to a nearby hotel for a bunk up with the missus. Scandalous, you’re out.

Snorts.

Anyhow, thanks to easy-on-the-eye Aussie BMX-er Caroline Buchanan, and her Twitter feed, we now know what the Aussie baby stoppers look like, or at least their dispenser.

Young Australians? Having sex in London? “Shurely shome mishtake?”, as Private Eye would have had it.

Roo Rubbers. Come on, admit you’re whistling a Men At Work song in your head right now.

Anyhow, Collins took to Twitter to vent steam over his sacking. In one tweet he remarked: ”Even men in prison get their wives to visit,” he tweeted. ”6 athletes and 9 officials. That ain’t enough to make some people happy. Omg.”

We hear ya, bro.

(Thanks to Yahoo and countless others)

Many, many moons ago, my mother’s family, on my grandmother’s side, (and we are talking about years with an 18 in front of them – imagine! People I actually knew!) hailed from Lincolnshire. From a town called Boston, to be precise. And today, one of my closest friends is from that country, entirely coincidentally.

So when Simon sent me news of this wonderful story, it was always going to end up in the blog.

Louth. Which for one glorious summers day, was not very couth. See what I did there?

For some time, the banger-munching burghers of Lincolnshire have been petitioning the European Community to have their famous Lincolnshire sausages declared a special species of snag – much as champagne can now only come from the actual area called Champagne in France, and so on, otherwise it must be called “Sparkling wine”.

And very wonderful they are too.

Sadly, the EC turned the Lincolshire-ites down, which given the EC is happy to regulate just about everything that happens within its borders without fear or favour seems slightly unfair. But undaunted, one local Mayoress nevertheless decided to dress up as a sausage when the Olympic torch rolled through town, to keep up the fight to publicise the wonderful local porky offering.

Never mind that sausages are commonly, in rough and ready yokel language, often used as a cipher for the male appendage. Never mind that the outfit she chose, (see below), looked uncommonly like, well, see for yourself.

It’s a, er, sausage. Honest, guv.

Louth Mayor Cllr Makinson-Sanders, for it is she, and her alter ego, the “happy sausage of Lincolnshire”.

Anyhow, the Mayor of Louth has made national headlines after an Olympic Torch Relay stunt – with many people saying her novelty sausage costume was mistaken for – OK, let’s say it – a penis.

As “This is Linconshire”  reports (whose server must surely have melted down overnight) Bill Nicholson, from Kidgate, wrote to every town councillor objecting and demanded that the mayoress be stopped.

He said: “The council chamber must put a stop to this embarrassment and restore some dignity to the people of Louth who do not want the local Olympic event hijacked for commercial reasons.

“To insult the whole spirit of the Olympic movement and the modest people who have carried the Torch is not in Louth’s interest.”

Despite this plea,  Makinson-Sanders secured the ‘phallic’ costume and stunned many residents in the Lincolnshire town who branded it ‘obscene’.

Mum-of-two Sandra Ellington, 38, said: “She probably thought she was being quite fun and quirky – but it backfired a little bit.

“People couldn’t take their eyes off her because it looks so rude. Her outfit certainly gained a few titters among the crowd.”

Comments on Wednesday’s story on This is Lincolnshire included: “The costume makes her look like a gentleman’s appendage,” and “she is clearly deluded if she thinks that costume looks anything like a sausage.”

Councillor Makinson-Sanders defended her actions, claiming that Louth Town Council had not been officially invited to have anything to do with the Olympic Torch or to meet the Torch and welcome it into the town.

“I was not attending in my capacity as mayor. I serve the town as mayor but only when invited to do so,” she said.

Some local residents have defended the mayoress – even praising her for being bold and imaginative initiative.

Patrick Neville, chairman of Louth Food and Drink group on Louth Town Partnership said: “She is doing what Louth richly deserves – getting us recognised as a food town of excellence. Rather than complain, these people should welcome the Mayor’s actions.”

Another commenter on this website added: “I think it is wonderful that people in higher places can prove that they are human. What a load of miserable so-and-so’s and total snobs we have. I think that she’s doing more for the Lincolnshire sausage than a bunch of Mayor’s chains could do.”

Some of the positive comments on the website really were delightful.

“Dress up like a sausage? Wrong or right, the girl’s got balls.” opined bwvixen.

Referring to a badge at the top of the story, opinionhated asked “Is the “trusted source” Brown or Tomato?”

smorrisey was clearly thinking things through. “I think the problem was that it was pink – maybe if they’d made it brown… oh, hang on!”

And the story duly reached the national press, undoubtedly the first time Louth ever has …

The British are wonderfully obsessed with body parts and smut. Frankly, the only thing the story is missing is a good fart joke or two. Anyway, I think it’s a lovely story, and on balance, I come down on the side of the brave Lady Mayoress. And you know what? If you disagree, well, frankly I think you’re being a bit of a, well, you know.

Titters.

Anyway, back to global warming, gay rights, Syria, and the Republican Party tomorrow. Not all in the same story, we trust.

And by the way, if all this has whetted your desire to put some sausage in your mouth, you’ll need this.


Lincolnshire Style Sausage, 2 Kg mix

1Kg Pork Shoulder
500g Pork Belly
270g Water (Chilled)
180g Rusk / Breadcrumb
50g Seasoning

Lincolnshire Sausage Seasoning

50g Salt
5g White Pepper
5g Black Pepper
5g Nutmeg
2g Mace
3g Ginger
1g Allspice
15g Dried sage
14g Corn flour
Mix all the above together until even in colour.

Preparation

1. Chill all meats well, 2 – 3 Hours
2. Chill the water in the refrigerator
3. Dice meats to fit the Mincer Throat – oo-er, missus – and return to refrigerator until ready to start
4. Weigh up the seasoning as above & weigh out the 50gm required
(Keep the rest in a screw top jar)
5. Weight up rusk or bread crumb – put to one side
6. Mince the meats through the blade of your choice (Course or fine)
7. Add meats to the bowl & fit onto the mixer with the K beater
8. Start the mixer on slow speed and add the seasoning
9. Add the chilled water and continue mixing on slow for the water to absorb this should take no more than 20 seconds.
10. Turn the mixer up to speed 4 and mix vigorously until the meat mixture looks sticky, again about 30 – 40 seconds.
(This is releasing myosin: the protein that sticks the sausage together & gives texture, rather like the gluten in bread.)
11. Add rusk or bread crumb & mix well in
12. If the mixture is wet or soft let it stand for a few minutes for the rusk/breadcrumb to re-hydrate.
13. Fill into suitable casings.
14. Allow to stand overnight to Bloom (Flavour Development).

By the way, do not – ever – prick sausages before eating. (Pun intended.) Seriously. Cook over a low heat until gently browned on all sides, thus containing the lovely juicy fat inside the casing.

You have been told.