Do Argentina have the potential to win a Rugby World Cup?

Argentina. Renowned for its art, tango, colour, vibrancy and perhaps above all else its perpetual, undying love of football. However can rugby's "Los Pumas" upset this hierarchical sporting order and emulate their famous footballing counterparts?

If the Pumas' 2013 campaign is anything to go by - humbling defeats against England, Wales, resounding, but expected, losses to the SANZAR nations and the narrowest of wins over Georgia - the aforementioned title question may be answered fairly simply; with an emphatic 'No'.

Argentina ranking history

Furthermore, Argentina have dropped to their lowest ever ranking of 10th, admittedly not helped by playing the best three teams in the world regularly, quite a task to rectify for new coach Daniel Hourcade after Santiago Phelan's resignation.

However it isn't all doom and gloom, as despite their relative lack of funding, domestic league prowess and limited national matches, Argentina have continually punched above their weight. Their mantra of uncompromising, hard nose forward play, has earned several big and established rugby country playing scalps, despite limited cohesive team time and without the resources of their major rivals, coupled with impressive outings in the 2011 (Quarter Finalists) and 2007 Rugby World Cups (3rd place).
Nevertheless can this promise and potential translate from perennial dark horses into a genuine World Cup title challenge?

In order to mount a serious assault on the Everest like challenge of winning a World Cup, several key factors need to be embedded in the nations rugby mainframe.

Agustin Pichot

A prerequisite of success that Argentina must acquire, akin to the top tiered nations, is a strong future foundation for which to build on, vis-a-vis a successful grass roots system.

Argentinian legend Agustin Pichot believes they have. "We have the structures , the players in the schools, in our academies (outstanding junior program), in our high performance centres (quality training centres in the five biggest cities)."
Conversely however, Pichot admits despite these improvements - Pichot is reportedly working with the government to build a national high development rugby centre - Argentina still does not possess that, "route to professional rugby." 

This is not a problem for the All Blacks, who seemingly have an endless conveyor belt of readily available talent. Generation after generation of seemingly unrelenting brilliance embedded in the National psyche.
"Rugby has a huge niche in a small nation here. It dominates all other sports. The BEST thing you can be is a rugby success." - Kel Victor (President of the prestigious Christchurch High School Old Boys club, that has produced over 30 All Blacks).
However, unlike their Kiwi counterparts, universally devoted to an all dominant sport that flows deep in their veins, Argentina's football hegemony reigns supreme at the expense of rugby's development.


Several factors must be gauged when assessing the Pumas credentials. 1) Their Junior World Cup performances, finishing on average in 6th place since the tournaments inauguration in 2008.
2) Their national participation to population percentages, Argentina ranked 9th with 0.116%, behind the fourth, second and most successful rugby nations, England (4.955%) South Africa (1.265%) and New Zealand (3.137%).
3) The funding the Union de Rugby Argentina generates and receives from the Rugby Football Union and 4), the domestic success of the club teams, the dominant domestic team Buenos Aires are an amateur club, with the majority of their players scattered around pecunious European clubs, must all be analysed and critiqued.

Unfortunately all good things must come to an end and for Argentina their golden generation is no more. The old guard has to be replaced; no mean task.
Nevertheless a great deal of optimism surrounds the precocious pool of talented Argentinians forcing their way onto the international scene.
Fronting the Pumas charge is the multi faceted, gliding prowess of fly half Patricio Fernandez (aged 18), top point scorer of the 2013 IRB Junior World Championships with 82 points (3 tries, 11 conversions and 15 penalties, the dimunitive yet electric full back Santiago Cordero (aged 19), the abrasive, irrepressible flanker Pablo Matera (aged 20) has already earned Rugby Championship caps and the destructive prop Matiaz Diaz (aged 20) and the Man mountain lock Tomas Lavanini. Tipped for staring roles in the next decade or so, can this alone propell the Pumas to World Cup glory? Probably not. More needs to be done.

In spite of the encouraging growth in participation rates, 102, 790 players, half of whom are under 15, - partly aided by the growth of sevens in South America -  Argentina is categorically synonymous with football, not rugby.
The Argentinian government continues to fund millions of dollars into football at rugby's expense. Football continues to sweep the nation, whereas rugby, where players tend to come from a more affluent background in order to fund their career in a non professional sport, is still deemed as being separated to the elite classes.
The paucity of Argentine players that do reach the pinnacle of rugby, head to pastures new where their talents are compensated monetarily, weakening the Argentinian domestic scene.
This point leads onto the next stepping stone for the Pumas. What is the next step?

Professionalising their domestic league is one potential solution, albeit a far fetched one, due to the relative lack of funding generated into Argentinian rugby. The UAR have to entice the cream of their crop with competitive salaries. However when UAR contracted players receive a paultry 2,300 pesos a month ($655/£452/Aus$433), compared to the average New Zealand Super Rugby salary of Aus$12,000 a month and French Top 14 salaries averaging between £20-50,000 a month, the domestic Argentinian league doesn't stand much of a chance. This is a good indication as to why 23 of the 30 2012 Rugby Championship squad ply their trade in the Northern hemisphere.

FRENCH RUGBY'S RICH LIST (£/MONTH)

1) Jonny Wilkinson (Toulon) - £48,155

2)  Jonathan Sexton (Racing Metro) - £44,711

3) Bryan Habana (Toulon) - £42,991

4) Morgan Parra (Clermont Auvergne) - £39,555

5) Thierry Dusautoir (Toulouse) - £36,975

6) Dimitri Szarzewski (Racing Metro) - £35,254

7) Carl Hayman (Toulon) - £35,254

8) Bakkies Botha (Toulon) - £35,254

9) Jamie Roberts (Racing Metro) - £34,394

10) Matt Giteau (Toulon) - £34,394

[Figures from Le Journal du Dimanche]

Subsequent IRB funding, for instance the IRB's $10m funding - supporting infrastructure, high performance units and cross border competitions - over 4 years to support the Pumas before SANZAR allowed them into the old Tri Nations, coincidentally the UAR’s annual budget is 1/5 of SANZAR, has helped their cause but more needs to be done.

Argentina don't have the luxury of an RFU receiving £20m from Sport England to improve an already very developed system. They are receiving half of this sum to a system very much in its infancy, yet Argentina are still are good tier 1 nation. Unless there is a dramatic change in funding from the Argentinian government at football's expense, Argentina's growth will surely be limited.

Among others, Pichot and World Cup winning coach Graham Henry, concur that it is "vital" that an Argentinian team joins the Super Rugby competition in order to complete that final piece of the jigsaw.

Pichot: 'Of course, just being involved doesn't signify progress. That doesn't mean you have arrived as contenders. It was important to join an international competition, but what we are missing now is a franchise. You need to have your players competing on a weekly basis against the best the southern hemisphere has to offer.'
Until a franchise for Argentina is established, the cream of the Pumas crop will continue to accept lucrative offers from abroad.
Furthermore all this hard work could be undone if Argentina's contract isn't renewed after their contract expires from the Rugby Championship in 2015.

Perhaps a more salient and realistic question is, can any team, let alone an emerging one, break into that small group of World Cup winners?
If much more established nations such as France, Wales and Ireland etc are yet to lift the much coveted Webb Ellis trophy, is it an unfair question to ask of Argentina?
Without the necessary funding, a World Cup triumph is extremely remote
Nothing like this has been done before and there is a long path to trod for Los Pumas, but maybe they can take heart from the famous words of Winston Churchill. "History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it." 

Is Lionel Messi the greatest player of all time?

• “Is Messi a real player or a Play Station character?” - Radamel Falcao. 
• “Like Michael Jordan in basketball, Messi is dominating his sport. Very few people in history have managed to dominate their sport the way Jordan and Messi have." - Pep Guardiola. 
• “I wear Number 10 Jersey for the US National Team in honor of the Greatest athlete i have ever seen, Messi.” - Kobe Bryant. 
• “I have seen the player who will inherit my place in Argentine football and his name is Messi. He is a genius. His potential is limitless." - Diego Maradona. 

For more glowing, endless tributes championing this once in a generation talent see here: http://proudbarcelonista.wordpress.com/2012/08/12/quotes-about-lionel-messi/

Lionel Andrés Messi. As you can see in the aforementioned bullet points, Messi has been widely touted as the greatest player the game has ever seen.
"There are no adjectives to describe Messi," says Pep Guardiola. I however shall give it a try.

The greatest of all time?

He bestrides the Nou Camp's hallowed turf like a colossus. A bottomless pit of trickery and illusion. Like a Shakespearian sonnet he pulses in perfect time and is a triumph of cadence and tempo.
His magnetic ball control, guile, poise, balance, panache and skill may never be witnessed again.

Not only is "La Pulga" (the flea) a joy to watch, he is ruthlessly effective and efficient.
In days gone by, a 1 in 2 strike rate was the yardstick of greatness in football. However with Messi that seems like a quaint anachronism in comparison to his record breaking calendar goal scoring tally of 91 goals on top of his burgeoning CV of 3 Champions League wins, 5 La Liga's and 4 Ballon D'or awards.
Staggering isn't it? So how does he compare against arguably the two greatest football players ever?

THE ULTIMATE COMPARISON: MESSI, MARADONA AND PELE

	Lionel Messi	Maradona	Pele
Playing career	2004 - March 2013	1976-1997	1956-1977
Career games	449	592	1366
Career goals	310	311	1282
Goals per game	0.69	0.52	0.94
Number of clubs	1	7	2
International caps (goals)	77 (31)	91 (34)	92 (77)
World Cup apps (goals)	8 (1)	21 (8)	14 (12)
Major honours	3 Champions League's, 5 La Liga's, 2 Copa del Rey's, 2 World Club Cup's	1 World Cup, 2 Serie A's. 1 Uefa Cup, 1 Coppa Italia, 1 Copa del Rey	3 World Cup's, 1 Copa America, 6 Brazilian League title's, 2 Copa Libertadores'

The three musketeers?....

As you can see Pele appears to surpass little Lionel. Pele at the same age had more goals, a better goal to game ratio but perhaps most important of all, the most glaring admission on Messi's CV, is Pele's three World Cup triumphs (arguably two as he was injured in the 2nd match of Brazil's 1962 triumph) compared to Messi's zero. 
He has greatly under performed at International level, whereas Maradona almost single handedly won the 1986 World Cup with a team deemed as nothing special, a feat he repeated for a S.S.C Napoli side punching way above their weight in winning multiple Serie A titles, a Copa America and the UEFA Cup. Would Messi have achieved this at Napoli now for instance or any other second rate side?
It is pointless debating that as we have no way in knowing. It is the definition of conjecture. Caution: If you took this a bit too literally and looked in the dictionary, the definition won't involved Messi.. I think.

So is he the greatest of all time? Naturally Pele doesn't concur.
"When Messi's scored over 1000 goals like me, when he's won three World Cups, we'll talk about it."
This could and perhaps should be construed as a rather narcissistic and conceited remark from the great man, considering that 526 of Pele's 1283 goals came in unofficial friendlies and tour games and it is argued that the 1970 Brazil World cup winning team, often revered as the greatest side of all time, would sweep any competition, with or without Pele.
Moreover, Pele critics point to his lack of Champions League experience, a worthy point as the combined best teams of Europe locked horns each season, whereas the brilliant, all conquering Brazilian players merely did battle versus one another.

Admittedly the game today is vastly more professional with a far greater amount of depth, something that may have been lacking in the eras of Maradona and especially Pele. 
But here is where it gets hazy. 
I consistently maintain that you simply cannot compare eras, especially ones decades apart from one another.
Take this armed forces example. It is absurd to think that the Roman Empire or WW1 airplanes could defeat even the weakest European nation's army or today's state of the art aircraft respectively because of modern weapons and techniques. The same applies for all sports which have experienced technological revolutions over the decades. 

1966 World Cup Ball

First and foremost, the football's used today - Micro textured casing, synthetic material covering, nitrogen crossed linked foam and geometric design which enables more spins, flight, shape retention, consistency, accuracy and power - were polar opposites from the 1960's model which had leather casing, was much heavier due to water absorption and far less aerodynamic; meaning, for instance, Roberto Carlos's famed "banana" shots simply wouldn't have existed.

Secondly the pitches of today resemble a pristine snooker cloth, due to round the clock ground staff aided by state of the art lasers and pitch technology. Not a blade of grass is out of place at the Nou Camp, whereas not many blades of grass were in place half a century ago. This coupled with the brutal physicality of the game back then would make the free flowing passing football of today extremely difficult.

Here is former Charlton player Derek Hales' account of the state of the pitches in 1970's Britain. "It was like playing on a beach. The ball would be hoofed up in the air and land with a 'plop' - it would never roll anywhere. The pitch was so muddy and sandy the groundsman had to repaint the penalty spot."

http://www.footballsite.co.uk/Statistics/Articles/DidYouKnow23.htm

This greatly aids the current crop, in terms of ball control, passing, shooting and preventing injury, and hugely inhibited those battle hardened warhorse's of the 60's and 70's, who had to settle for these mudbaths seen below.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sport/football/article-2295492/Footballs-golden-years-Think-pitch-Blackpool-poor-shape-You-look-little-lot-.html

Billy Bremner's post match treats

Thirdly and finally, sports medicine, diet (was common for players to drink, eat and smoke whatever they so chose), fitness and conditioning of players has come on leaps and bounds since the days when physios were "inadequately qualified"  and seemed to answer most problems with the "magic sponge and strong smelling salts." (Waddington, 2007).

Dr Neil Carter avers that only since the 1990's, where the commercialisation of the sport grew exponentially since the Premier League's inauguration, has football taken the role of medicine more seriously. This, according to Dr Carter, has enabled swifter recoveries and more accurate diagnosis's which in turn has helped to help lengthen sporting careers. 

So those myopic football fans who shortsightedly state "Messi or Ronaldo would dominate everyone back in the day" fail to comprehend that if they had played during that era they would have to deal with, according to Middlesborough FC Legend Alan Peacock, all the shortfalls of less forgiving footballs, brutal tackles, mudbath pitches, fitness levels and resting periods, as "back then" players, which invariably numbered a dozen unlike the 30 strong squads of today, played 60 plus games a season. Gift these modern benefits to a Maradona and a Pele, they too would improve; it works both ways remember.

Bert Trautmann playing with a broken neck!!!

Ultimately these three players, along with a multitude of others, were supremely gifted individuals that uniquely lit up the game for us all to savour.
We should respect each one of their achievements and credit them for being, as UEFA President Michel Platini puts it, "the great players of their generations."
Comparing eras involves far too much conjecture, intangibles and variables we cannot objectively compare and quantify, but that definitely won't stop this debate from raging on as generally it is rather enjoyable, wouldn't you agree?

Golden era? What golden era?

WARNING: This blog may contain a great deal of ranting..ness (that is now a word), impetuous remarks and a delectable scoop of hyperbole!

A "golden era". Such a nonsensical, hypothetical term that has been ratcheted up and adored by the media who seek to espouse this roll your eyes saying in unhealthy quantities. Recently the term has been bandied around like a grubby, overused handkerchief in Football, F1 racing but predominantly this term has become synonymous with Tennis.

The Big Four

Before I embark on my line of argument I must assert my fairly dogmatic and entrenched stance on this hazy, falsifiable topic.
I do not really believe any era to be golden and I do not believe that you can prove indefinitely that one era is golden. For instance strengths in one area, i.e. the dominant top four of today who have won 23 of the past 24 slams dating back to 2008, may mean a relative lack of strength in another, i.e. a weaker chasing pack unable to dismantle the top 4's bastion in tandem with a paucity of precocious youngsters bursting onto the scene as was seen in yesteryear.
In addition is 2013 really a golden era? Federer has dropped to his lowest ranking in a decade, Nadal is very injury prone and Murray and Djokovic suffer from prolonged spates of inconsistency outside slams. What is so golden about that?

In subsequent years gone by, there has also been a very strong pool of players at the summit of the rankings. In the 70's there was Borg, Connors, Newcombe, Rosewall, Vilas and Ashe; In the 80's there was McEnroe, Lendl, Wilander, Edberg and Becker and in the 90's Sampras, Agassi, Courier, Kuerten and Rafter ruled the roost and all boast similar Grand Slam totals to today's total. Can they not be seen as golden?

Tennis greats!

So does this mean that an era is judged by the strength of a dominating top four where the chasing pack are a vast distance away from the precipice of top four success or is an era judged by the relative strength or lack of it in the top 20 where the main contenders continue to waltz to the titles relatively unscathed?

If a 39-year-old Jimmy Connors can reach the US Open semi finals or the unseeded duo of Chris Lewis and Malivai Washington reach the final of Wimbledon in 1993 and 1996 respectively does that make that tournament, year or era weak?
Andy Murray, despite modest Grand Slam performances in 2009 (4th round, quarter final, semi final), became world number two merely on the back of strong masters 1000 showings, an injury to Rafael Nadal and a dip in form of Djokovic. Does that also mean this was a weak slam/year/era?

In the 90's the stark difference between the the four Grand Slams resembled a decathlete performing the long jump, the 1500m, the shot put and the pole vault, whereas nowadays the Sahara Arctic contrast is replaced by repeating the same 400m event four times over.
Unfortunately this surface homogenisation may have led to a skillset homogenisation as serve and volleying, chip charging and low margin attacking tennis is almost defunct and redundant; a stance also held by former Wimbledon champion Pat Cash.
"The guy who outlasts the other one wins. It's taken a lot of the skill out of tennis. Modern players don't dive around the net, deliver backhand smashes, twist and turn like past generations."

Cash, often fond of controversial, against the grain statements, does have a point. The 21st century greats don't have to contend with net rushers or many players with a lot of variety. They play in an era where racket and string technology has advanced to levels where players can hit ridiculous passing shot winners from way outside the court, something beyond the realms of possibility in the 80's and 90's.

Today's dominance is illustrated by Federer, Nadal and Djokovic who have won three of the four slams in a calendar year for five of the previous nine years, compared to a meagre two in the past thirty four years. Evidence of a golden era or conditions greatly favoring those most adept at thriving under the present conditions?

This dependence on ultra fit super human athletes that can play gruelling marathon like matches for 5 hours plus - it is no coincidence that the top four players possess herculean fitness and defensive skills far superior to the rest of the field - is having an adverse effect on the ability for youngsters to make an impact on the game.
Youngsters, who rarely make it into the second week of Grand slams and are quite a way off the top 10, are now deemed "young" if they are between the 20-23 category, whereas in decades gone by Grand Slam Champions were all teenagers: Boris Becker (17), Mats Wilander (17), Bjorn Borg (18), Sampras (19) and Nadal (19).
Mats Wilander, Roger Federer and Andre Agassi's fitness trainer Gil Reyes are "seriously worried" about the worrying dearth of young up and coming tennis talent (no teenagers in the top 200) and "don't see any obvious candidates for a future Grand Slam champion."

Where are all the youngsters?

With record high numbers of tennis participants, the pool of talent is most certainly there but highly talented juniors, such as Grigor Dimitrov now 22, cannot compete with 8-10 year conditioned, ascetically primed athletes and conditions that encourage physical and not as much shot making development.
"I think it takes bigger stronger athletes, which is what is out there. But it takes time for them to develop. You have your aberrations: Murray, Del Potro, Rafa etc, but not many." - Federer's former coach Paul Annacone.

Furthermore the prize money at challenger and future level events has stagnated which makes it harder for young players to continue the demanding tennis lifestyle that requires a large support ensemble in order to reach the highest echelons of tennis.
Is this good for the sport's future? This attritional style could increase the likelihood of injury and shorten players careers.

Court slowdown

Perhaps if there was a broader diversity of surfaces we would see a wider distribution of slams as a greater range of styles would be required.
Then again if the current top four did sweep the slams as per usual, THAT would be the true test of their "golden era" credentials, but until that day of variety comes we cannot truly and accurately determine if an era is golden; something the British media in particular won't understand or accept for sure.

Interrailing!

My hallowed interrail pass

Interrailing. A plan that had been in the pipeline ever since the 2010 viewing of the film "Eurotrip", finally came to fruition in two magical weeks of contrasting people, styles, cultures, languages, architecture, customs and nightlife. 
So let us delve into this adventure that was pure bloody dynamite, thanks in no small part to great mates, David Bowie's classic "Heroes" and graduating with a 2:1 from Uni, WAHOOO!

A grand total of 636 photos were taken but were whittled down to a mere 14 here. I can just picture a scene showing thousands of archaeological slides led by Rowan Atkinson as the acerbic school master, with his audience slowly nodding off. "This is slide 1411 in the first morning of day 1 of 13. Wake up Plectrum! Detention Haemoglobin. 100 lines on what occurred on slide 836. NIBBLE... LEAVE ORIFICE ALONE!"

Anyway, there were to be four destinations and a company ranging from 3 to 5 to 2. The first port of call was Amsterdam, I couldn't wait!

Amsterdam:
The first thing that strikes you when you arrive at the Dutch capital is the numerous canals, renaissance architecture and above all else the sheer number of cyclists. Oh there were bikes, bikes like you wouldn't believe! Thousands of bikes, great herds of bike sweeping majestically across the planes, the sunlight dancing off the frame,'tis a glorious sight (and barely any fecking cars!). 

Damn!

A mere 2 minute march was all it took to reach our old, rickety hostel; a novelty greatly appreciated after our painstakingly long plane journey of 45 minutes. 
For 3 nights this superbly located hostel would be our humble abode. I say humble abode, although it was rather disconcerting having to sleep in the bunk above a whore chasing druggy.... but apart from that it was just swell. 

Such is the sociable nature of hostels and fellow interrailers, my comrades and I, with relative ease, made friends with several Spaniards and a group of typically exuberant and boisterous Brazilians, cue pandemonium.

Infamous RDL

One cannot however, fail to ignore the dark, all consuming under belly of Amsterdam. The sex obsessed, repugnant, vile and pitiful nature of the red light district, tarnishes an idyllic city that is bursting with vibrancy and colourful sights and sounds; what a pity.

In order to dispel this abiding image of the city, I implore anyone to hire a bike for the day and take a beautiful tour of the city and marvel at its splendour, it really is a must.  

Not bad ey?

On our final day we went to the Anne Frank Museum. I entered the historic sight with a sense of foreboding. Those who know me, know that I am Jewish (although I am a bad jew as I'm an atheist, do not care for religion and one of my favourite foods is bacon). What most won't know is that a great deal of my family were persecuted in the holocaust. 
After this incredible but gut-wrenching experience, I came across a book of thousands of Jews that were taken to concentration camps during WW2. After feverishly rifling through this book, my heart almost stopped. There it was. My mother's surname. Gosschalk. Dozens of Gosschalks littered the page. Without warning, hot, bubbly, irrepressible tears filled my eyes and fell uncontrollably down my trembling cheeks. Naturally I had never known any of them, but after witnessing the Nazi atrocities and the unspeakable truths that occurred in the death camps, I was overcome with grief. I will never forget that moment, it shall stay with me forever.

So after saying our goodbyes to Amsterdam (with the help of some space cake!), after a great "chin wag" with a dutch friend of mine, the now two of us caught the 15 hour long overnight train to Prague and stage two of our journey.   

Charles Bridge, Prague Castle, St. Vitus Cathedral (Mala Strana)

Prague:
If Amsterdam was very pretty and picturesque, Prague was incredibly awe-inspiring and breathtakingly beautiful. I ran out of superlatives to describe this phenomenal city, so I think the image of me getting jaw cramp from leaving my mouth open for 3 days will suffice.

The architectural feats, ranging from Roman and Gothic to Baroque and Art Nouveau (to name but a few), were majestic. The meticulous attention to detail, the amalgamating and contrasting styles and the inordinate amount of beer consumed by the Czechs was unique. At every turn, every street corner yielded a panoramic view of unspeakable beauty and excessive gasping noises. 

Old Town (Stare Mesto)

As Amsterdam did not particularly have any local delicacies, I was determined to sample some of the local cuisine. A Czech speciality that was both a mouthful to say as well as consume - Vepřoknedlozelo -  was a dish consisting of a pork base smothered in dumplings and sauerkraut. A tad bland but worth a go!

One particular highlight was the free guided tours, which I highly recommend. One particular story that I can recall was the tale of Hitler and his musicians' statue. After discovering that one of his favourite musicians (Heydrich) was Jewish, Hitler sought to tear down the statue that had been erected on top of the music auditorium, the Rudolfinum. However his lieutenants could not discern which statue was the one that needed to be taken down as they had never seen Heydrich. A masterstroke came to one of them, or so they thought. They would measure each statue's nose to see which was the longest, ergo naturally finding the Jewish conductor. Unfortunately for them they cut down Hitler's main composer Richard Wagner by mistake. Maybe that ends that stereotype hmm?

Me and Prague!

Vltava river from Letna

That night my travel buddy and I sought to dive into that melting pot of drunken culture, the dreaded pub crawl. 4 bars, 1 club and 1 hour of unlimited free booze, a recipe for disaster no doubt and a hangover that could slay a walrus! 

In no time at all our last night in Prague was upon us. What better way to conclude this part of our journey than hiring a pedalo for our very own booze cruise, complete with a great deal of merry making, Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean quotes, faaannntasstic!

If I.. no scrap that, when I do interrailing again, Prague will definitely be one of the first stops on that new list. I fell in love with the place; indescribable beauty. A fairly shambolic train service left us with a mad dash for our train journey to Vienna (a recurring theme throughout the trip). Thank you so much Prague, I am not worthy!

Vienna:

Statue of Athena

After arriving in Vienna later than I had planned, partly thanks to my travelling buddy who moves slower than a glacier when getting up in the morning (which probably included doing his makeup), it meant that we had one full day to sample as much as Vienna could throw at us. As Samwise Gamgee once said when he and Frodo Baggins went to Vienna on their interrail trip, "now there's an eye opener and no mistake!"

The sheer scale of the city's monuments was something to behold. Vienna was by far the most grandiose, ornate and royal-like of all the cities we visited. Once again jaw cramp set in as I gazed in wonder at the works of the Austria-Hungarian Empire. 

St. Stephen's Cathedral

As we were meandering through the streets of Stephansplatz I was approached by two different Austrian radio workers (who must have realised I was a tourist due to my Boston Celtics hat) asking my opinion on guidebooks vs apps and then the city itself and its residents.
Either both can convey extreme enthusiasm with apparent ease or I gave a damn good answer as both left with a considerable amount of notes and a big smile on their faces as they departed. What can I say, the Austrian people crave my words of wisdom. I am probably famous over there already.....

Hochstralbrunnen fountain &
Russian Liberation monument

Me... being me... with Johann Strauss

After an exhausting and highly satisfying day in the sweltering hot sun, where I think I was able to actually tan, which in my family is unheard of as we usually burn and peel, we returned to our hostel refreshed and raring to go for another night of inebriation!

A spontaneous purchase of cheap wine and offering a group of Americans, Brits and Estonians to pre drinks, including the ever reliable "Irish Snap", we set off in a drunken daze for some sort of nightlife, which was fairly hard to come by unfortunately.

Hofburg Imperial Castle

Nevertheless we soldiered on and continued to drink copious amounts of alcohol (well at least I did). From what I can remember I successfully convinced two Austrians that I could speak fluent French by blagging my way through La Marseillaise and throwing out phrases such as "Ca coute Cher!", "Qu'est-ce que ça veut dir upla?" and "Oh la la la fusée!"

Schonbrunn Palace

The previous nights escapades caught up with me the next morning as I was once again in a very delicate state, but as it was our last day I was determined to see the remaining tourist attractions and boy did I not regret it!
A much shorter train journey lay ahead of us but once again it involved a slightly worried gallop to our carriage, I really do enjoy these nervous times....
Next and final stop Budapest!

Budapest:

Not sure why I did this pose...

Before I had taken 3 steps into our hostel (I cannot speak highly enough about the Blacksheep hostel and all its staff who were fantastic and even cooked us a meal!) I was embraced by a drunk Ozzy who must have ignored my tired and sweaty demeanor. From here on in Budapest was an absolute delight. Never before had I been in a more sociable, buzzing and hospitable place, it was such a treat.

Further encounters involved meeting several Northern Irish travellers (every time we saw each other we made a Sylvester Stalone abstruse grunt after watching the hilarious Expendables 2, my god what an awful film), who spoke at at least 100mph, which rose to 200mph after another pub crawl, leaving the Aussies, Americans, Swedes us English and the Hungarian staff all utterly perplexed.

The Danube!

One particularly memorable moment was sitting on our balcony, with three Germans, where we drank, laughed and played music (my input was to nod my head every now and again) as well as remarking on how lazy us Brits generally are when learning other languages and expecting everyone else to learn ours. This lackadaisical and arrogant mindset infuriates me and I intend to attempt to learn a foreign language post haste!
We spoke well into the early hours of the morning and one conversation that resonates with me was how the current generation is still burdened and tarnished by Nazi Germany, a totally unfair and abhorrent state of affairs, hopefully this changes pronto.

Another free guided tour of both Pest and Buda of Budapest (which as expected was stunningly beautiful), was embarked upon under the scorching sun. It was here that the Aussie numbers swelled to record numbers, a state of affairs that reminded me of the "Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate" seagulls in Finding Nemo!

Ruin Bars

Turkish Baths... in Budapest

Further highlights came in the form of the Ruin Bars (a collection of beautifully lit and atmospheric bars adjacent to one another) and the tranquil and uber serene Turkish baths, which we felt we had earned after a great deal of walking and boozing which can be hard work!

So that is it, the end of my adventures.
Perhaps some of the most magical and unforgettable moments have occurred in this fortnight. A multitude of faces, places, tastes, shapes and sizes, all of whom celebrated the ineffable joys of travelling.
I for one am itching to do it all again.
So Dank U Amsterdam, Děkuji Prague, Danke Schun Vienna and Köszönöm Budapest, I love you guys. 

My day out at SW19.

Perhaps the 1970 Beatles number one hit record, the "Long and Winding Road" was inspired by the long and arduous queue of the Wimbledon Tennis Championships... just a thought.
I embarked upon this journey in that serpentine estuary (at 5am on the opening day of the 127th edition of the Wimbledon Championships), weaving like a spider's web, in and out of the labyrinth of fencing that led to me to the mouth of the river and the holy grail of tennis tournaments; Wimbledon.

For five painstakingly slow hours I trundled forward at a snail's pace towards the front of the dreaded queue. Here I was flanked by three exuberant and boisterous Australian "fanatics" and one extremely garrulous New Yorker who seemed to have an opinion or story on just about everything; maybe I should not have pressed the snooze button at 4:30am, therefore avoiding this international sandwich and ticket number 1810.

Nevertheless my sleep deprived, Harry Enfield teenager mood did not linger long thanks to the intermittent reading of the beautifully written "Scoop" by Evelyn Waugh, (I can assure you he isn't a girl despite the name) the Two Towers audiobook and at last the promise of movement forwards in the queue over two hours later.

With my spirits rising, I was determined to enjoy the complete Wimbledon experience and that started by partaking in the tennis reflex game (20.4 seconds, not the best to be honest), followed by the serving speed machine where I posted a serve of 89mph, which I was fairly pleased with despite the fact the technique had been replaced with trying to hit the ball as hard as I could!

Finally however by 10:07am, to be precise, I paid the £20 ground pass fee and entered the hallowed turf of Wimbledon. I truly love this place. It is so very picturesque and idyllic. The sights, sounds and smells are unique. It's almost ineffable how much it means to me and only the weather could spoil my untouchable high, thankfully it did not.

After perusing the order of play for the day, I wrote down who I most wanted to see in terms of exciting, attacking tennis; I could not wait.

Before play started however I received my strawberries and cream voucher (courtesy of being an HSBC customer), raced down to the practice court to see Cilic, FEDERER!!!!! (for which I got the thumbs up from for cheering "ALLEZ"), Nadal and Monaco. From up close you really can appreciate and be in awe of their ball striking ability, it is phenomenal.

First on the agenda was Benoit Paire, a flamboyant, erratic, eccentric Frenchman, against Adrian Ungur (I'm a sucker for single handed backhands). Sitting touching distance from the impeccably cut grass of court 10, I loved every minute of this exciting 4 set encounter, allez Paire!
Next on court 3, I sampled some British talent with up and coming Kyle Edmund vs a Pole with as big a game as his 6'8 frame, Jerzy Janowicz. Unfortunately young Edmund, watched by Greg Rusedski and Leon Smith (GB Davis Cup Captain), was overwhelmed by JJ's unrelenting and frightening power in 3 sets, one of many Brits to go out again at the first hurdle.

After that I bumped into an old work colleague from last years Wimbledon and after a good catch up we watched Jo-Wilfred Tsonga vs David Goffin on court 2, a highly entertaining match with some superb shot making and attacking tennis, my favourite!

Digressing back to the complete Wimbledon experience, I spoke to Tsonga's coach Roger Rasheed about the Frenchman's tendency to occasionally hit a single handed backhand, spoke at length with umpire Jake Garner about how he became a top tennis umpire and got a high five from former tennis player Lindsay Davenport; a real mixed bag.

Dustin Brown

Then to my favourite player of the day on court 4, Dustin Brown. The easy going Jamaican style combined with German efficiency served up a real treat of just about everything! Drop shots, lobs, tweeners, serve and volley, power, guile, finesse, passion and a whole lot of dreadlocks! P.S. I got his autograph!

Darcis downs Nadal

Whilst all this was unfolding, on court 1 a huge potential shock was on the cards with Belgian journeyman Steve Darcis, ranked at 135, 29 years of age and possessing a single handed backhand; surely he didn't have a chance against Rafael Nadal. Tennis is a funny old game at times and for the last three games I viewed this stunning upset in front of a raucous Wimbledon crowd. Darcis take a bow!

Finally as my wonderful day drew to a close, I had the pleasure of watching the perennial second ranked Swiss player Stanislas Wawrinka against the in-your-face, battle hardened warhorse Lleyton Hewitt, in a three set win for the veteran Aussie.

So that is about it. When I awoke at 4;58am I was a sleep deprived, irritable queuer and by 8;42pm I was the happiest 21-year-old in SW19; just brilliant.

Recommendations:
1) You may be wondering how on earth I was able to regularly make it onto the show courts with such ease. Well it certainly was not easy and through lack of effort, but I believe the term is "schmoozing". This is where I would be very polite and go to every single gangway entrance to the show court and try to sneak my way onto the court despite not having a ticket. This for me is the best part of the whole experience.
"Nothing in this world worth having comes easy" - Dr. Kelso. "That's goddamn right" - Red, Shawshank Redemption.

2) Sign up to HSBC so that you too can enjoy the luxury of a free bowl of strawberries and cream... delicieux!

3) I didn't get any pimms.... I should have got some pimms!

4) Bring a pen that works. I brought a pen.... but it didn't work; schoolboy error.

SW19 itself!

5) Bring a camera and not a phone that has low battery and not very many pixels!

6) Go to Wimbledon at least once in your lifetime, you won't regret it!

Where are the next Shane Warne's?

Shane Warne hair transplant

No not an overweight Aussie, embroiled with online casinos and hair loss treatments! What is the raison d'etre behind why Australia have failed to produce any world class spinners of note since one of the greatest bowlers to play the game retired in 2007?

This was first drawn to my attention after re-watching England's comprehensive victory down under in the 2010/11 Ashes. As I looked on, with unconcealed joy I might add, what was plain to see was the dearth of quality Australian spin bowlers. Test cricket isn't exactly inundated with brilliant, prolific spin bowlers right now, compared to the recent all time greats of Muralitharan, Warne, Kumble and of course Phil Tuffnell (I kid).
Perhaps I am being too harsh on Australia but the likes of the Singh, Swann, Kaneria and to a lesser extent Narine, Ajmal and Herath have proven to be consistent and effective wicket takers across all formats of the game.
This cannot be said for Australia's spin bowlers with the countries sole optimism surrounding the incumbent Nathan Lyon, who's form of late has been patchy to say the least.

Crisis is a strong word, but when a 43-year-old Shane "the king of spin" Warne still believes he is good enough to return to the International fold (a view echoed by current captain Michael Clarke), despite being hammered for 41 off two overs in the Big Bash series opener and only claiming for wickets in seven matches throughout the tournament, the alarm bells are surely starting to ring quite vehemently.
For a country boasting the most extraordinary cricketing history, it is quite astonishing that eleven, yes ELEVEN, spinners have failed to make their mark on test level since Warne's retirement.

Surely, after the success of Warne's glittering career, this would have inspired a generation of future top class spin bowlers. What is puzzling is this has failed to eventuate. "Thousands of Australian youngsters have been coached this way but none have made it to stardom" commented former selection chairman Trevor Hohns.

Shane Warne - One of a kind?

Australian legend Allan Border adds credence to this view by suggesting Warne's leg spin action is unduplicable. "Warnie was a freak. He had these big fingers, strong wrists and shoulders and he could do it all off a few paces. I reckon it might be time to try something new like a Kumble who you could reasonably copy." Furthermore in answer to the country's lack of spinners Border commented that, "Batsmen are pretty aware these days. They have heavy bats and use their feet to give them lots of option."
But surely there is more to it than not being able to replicate Warne's style? Just what is holding back a plethora of Australian spin bowlers achieving this stardom?

Sheffield Shield

One obstacle has proven to be the Sheffield Shield, proclaimed as the strongest domestic competition around, which promotes attacking, seam bowler (not spinner) friendly cricket. It's structure encourages an offensive outlook with six points for a win, two for a first innings lead and surprisingly nothing for a draw.
Ground staff prepare "green top" pitches, which are not conducive for spin bowling, (pitches with more grass than usual that reward seamers, batsmen and not spinners) on a regular basis throughout the country. This has been widely and perhaps rightly criticized as players (especially spinners and batsmen) are left,  according to South Australian coach Darren Berry, "unprepared for test cricket due to the conditions".

Green top pitches

Surely this could be solved by introducing a variety of different pitches instead of this current homogenisation of green top surfaces? In any case with the status quo, spin bowlers are not given sufficient time to hone their skills which perhaps goes some way to explaining why so few spinners make the grade.

This leads onto the next point, regarding the much maligned Australian test selectors.
It appears that there is a sense of inertia from Australian selectors in terms of seeking to address the paucity of spin bowlers and when a potential spinner does come along, they are dismissed far too quickly. The likes of Beau Casson, Cameron White, Michael Beer, Jason Krejza and veteran Bryce McGain, who impressed domestically, have a combined test cap total of nine, with White weighing in with a whopping four!.....
Though these spinners hardly set the world on fire, bar Krejza who took an astounding 12 wickets on debut against India, but neither did Muralitharan, Warne or Kumble in their debuts with a collective nine wickets.
The point I am trying to make, is that one test match performance that fails to have an instant impact should not mean the end of your International career, as was the case for many of these Australian spin bowlers.

This partly illustrates the lunacy and impetuous nature of the Australian selectors who seem unwilling to blood new spin bowlers for more than a handful of tests, hardly the best way to encourage and inspire confidence for future spin bowlers!

Jason Krejza

So does the fact that Warne appears to be a one in a million, the "green top" pitches, the preponderance towards seam bowlers in the Sheffield Shield and the impatient Australian selectors, explain the lack of Australia's spinning prowess? Still not convinced? Maybe there is further evidence that requires more digging?

Where does everything in sport begin? At grass roots level of course!
This fanatical sporting nation needn't worry in terms of participation, with a record 880,291 taking part in 2011/12, equating to a 3.54% rise from the previous year. However at the ages of 14-16, successful spin bowlers have become few and far between. Reportedly spinners are generally not being given sufficient time and patience levels are in short supply and Warne believes this is a major cause for concern.
"You need encouragement at junior level, the talent is there but if they get smacked around the park or bowl a few double bouncers the encouragement isn't there, at the moment we aren't encouraging spin bowling."
It may be a bit too easy and harsh to lay the blame at the feet of mid-adolescent captains across the country but who is to blame?

Perhaps there is not one standout reason as to why Australia is failing to produce any top class spin bowlers, perhaps it is because of all of these points? Maybe the demand for spin bowlers is falling and the importance of seam bowlers, where Australia are experiencing an embarrassment of riches, is growing. Whatever the case may be, it appears that, at least in the short term, there are no up-and-coming Shane Warne's but with the way things are going, Australia may not even get close.