I fancy that quite a few of the apparent zillions who turned up at, or tuned into, what someone on Radio 5 described as ‘Bob Gandalf’s pop festival’ spent much of their time asking above the din, ‘I wonder what the score is?’ Because sport also put on an extended whoopee of variety acts last weekend. You had rugby’s Lions for Saturday breakfast, Australia’s opening overs at Lord’s for elevenses, Wimbledon for lunch, Henley for tea and cucumber sandwiches, Le Tour in France for an early evening pastis snifter — and much more of the same next day.
Some regard the rugby as a calamity, the combined British and Irish side being ignominiously sandbagged by New Zealand, and in two successive Tests shipping a record total of 71 points — a particularly rude drubbing, seeing that coach Sir Clive Woodward had swaggered into town claiming his fellows were ‘the freshest, fittest, best prepared’ Lions team in history.
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