PGL: This is not a job, this is a hobby! BEST HOBBY EVER! :D

***Warning: This blog contains a lorry load of exaltation and a bucket full of gleeful ecstasy, which some may find slightly nauseous or too hot to handle! Warning!***

After graduating from the prestigious "Wacky University of Eccentric Exuberance" of Smethwick, Birmingham, with flying colours, as well as holding a PHD in merriness (both with liquor & exhibiting joyous tendencies), in behaving like a big, rambunctious, fun-loving kid who never wants to grow up, I felt right at home when I began my PGL outdoor activity centre job on the February 6th 2014.

My journey began in Lincolnshire, Caythorpe PGL centre to be precise, for an extremely arduous 10 day training course. In order to pass this Everest type challenge I was pitted against trying to unlock the ongoing quandary of having to try and distinguish a noteworthy difference between my hiney and my elbow. After a shaky start... "well this beats sitting around all day on our elbows," I passed and 18 of our original company of 40 or so took the long coach ride to the "auld" enemy or bonny Scotland!

Caythorpe birthday celebrations!

Bear with me for a moment as I divulge a sentimental, soppy anecdote or two from my time at the training course... ok cheers, that will do. I kid, just one or two honestly.
My fellow trainees were made up of an eclectic, cultural fruit salad (Aussies, South Africans, Americans, Canadians, Maltese and a vast array of Brits) of fun bundles.
Drunken nights (particularly on my 21st and 12 months birthday, involving copious amounts of booze and a shower to let my pent up inner feelings into...), ball-bouncingly funny incidents, namely a cheesecake moment (Ellis you know what I'm talking about you dog you!) and an awful night of glass shattering, lives will be lost karaoke from my PGL trainee comrades.

Welcome to Scotland!

I was sad to see my PGL family depart for a multitude of varied destinations but I I had just injected with a frisson of excitement for my first escapade into Scotland and my PGL centre, Dalguise!

Dalguise!

The staunch English patriot in me, (wait that's a lie, I can't even spell the word stau... wait never mind) was tested right from the off as we weaved a serpentine 'S' through the breathtakingly beautiful Scottish countryside. As first impressions go, I was blown away... and then we reached our location; Dalguise. It had everything. A stunning backdrop - with the centre perfectly cut out of the landscape, bestowing upon it a wonderful and natural disposition - extremely warm and welcoming staff and best of all, the best job I could ever wish for. For the next 4 months (extended by another 3 weeks out of loving the role so much) this would be my home and what a home it was... "ha.. GAY!"

More Dalguise!

My Sheldon impression.

Neverland is perhaps the most apt way to describe how much I adore working for PGL in Scotland as an Activity instructor/group leader. This entailed me instructing sessions to approximately a dozen kids, ranging from ages 7-16, in Archery, Challenge course, Quad bikes, Mountain Bikes, Survivor (Ray Mears type session), Problem solving, Orienteering, Sensory trail and Forest Hike (my personal fave as you take in beautiful views, tell fictitious stories and make the kids do stupid stuff like putting sticks on their heads masquerading as antlers!). Add zip wire, giant swing, a multitude of climbing activities and raft building among others, it is easy to see why kids adore this activity haven.

Four 90 minute sessions a day from 9-12 and 2-5, may not sound much but the energetic, palpable and boisterous enthusiasm that is embedded in this job does cream cracker knacker ya, as does a bunch of unruly and sugar fueled kids, who think that listening involves speaking! You have my sympathy teachers, I was a terror back in the day...

My humble...

...abode!

Clockwork was the name of the game. Breakfast at 7.50; Morning meeting 8.20; Session preparation: 8.30-9 (e.g. quad bike set up, setting up the track, maintenance quad checks, signing in and out for the session). Sessions 9-12; Lunch 12:00; sessions 2-5; Dinner: TBC.... sorry the clock broke there, take that nature (I am seeking psychiatric assistance who recommend experimenting with a more potent and increased dosage). Oh and say goodbye to your weekends, as you don't get any! One day off a week.. eek!

Bungalow!

Personally, a few of the ground sessions (the aforementioned activities) that I undertook started to lose their excitement, partly due to returning to autopilot/answering machine mode because of having to deliver safety talks, dealing with disinterested and unruly kids and my own at times perfunctory delivery for a less than riveting session of Orienteering or Challenge Course.

Welcome to Dalguise!

That is where the other side of my job role, "Group Leader" came in. I LOVE BEING A GROUP LEADER ITS SO MUCH DAMN FUN GOD NAB IT!
This flourishing, beautiful and rare flower of a job involved being as creative, wacky... (see first paragraph for more adjectives) as humanly possible.
For those confused onlookers and readers who actually read this blog - for the few that do, many thanks! - ("GET ON WITH IT!") I would be in charge of a group ranging from school groups, brownies, cubs, scouts,  families, learning & physical disabilities, young carers etc.
I would welcome them when their bus arrived (involved non-stop waving down a fairly length drive, where going too soon could lead to fatal arm cramps), introduce myself, do a site tour, get them to their accommodation, explain the fire procedures, what activity groups they were in, out of bounds areas (known as chocolate hills because if they went on them they would owe me or their leader a chocolate!) and the dining room procedures and etiquette.

From thereon in the madness commenced! I ate with my group at every meal, sang PGL songs (Ones I knew: Banana, Coconut, Everywhere we go, Coca Cola, Boom Chicka, Crazy Moose (my signature song), Chicken, Goldfish and my own made up and adapted songs, for which I am quite proud of!) and played games with them (Ninja, Down in the jungle, Splat, Evolution, Fishy fishy fishy, Chaos tig, Head it catch it and general sports).
Joyous bedlam ensued, along with a plethora of nicknames: Richie, Rich Tea, Ricardo, Richie Rich, Cheesy Ritz and even Razzle Dazzle?? :P

Wacky Wednesday!

I was with my group from around 7:30-9am, 12-2pm and then 5-9pm where I would be with them for their evening activity! Incoming groups would book in advance what evening activity they wanted.

The prix fixe menu is as follows:
Starters:
a) Passport to the World - Groups go round Dalguise looking for flag signs on trees and answer the questions. £5 (The short straw).
b) Splash - Teams undertake challenges trying to earn more equipment for their team to make a water baby which will then be thrown off the tower to see if it doesn't pop. £5.50 (Hit & miss).
c) Wacky Races - Races with a twist. The more creative and wacky the better! £7 (Has it's ups and downs).

Main Course: 
a) Campfire - Lots of groups invariably would come together to sing songs, play games and toast marshmallows! £20 (The best of the lot! It's scientifically proven).
b) Cluedo (I've led this as the Policemen in a Scottish accent!) - A live re-enactment of the board game where staff and teachers would dress up as Cluedo characters and the kids would have to deduce (by completing the Cluedo character challenges) who committed the crime, with what object and where it took place. The culprit would be "wetsecuted", much to the roaring delight of the kids, which meant getting soaked by buckets of water: It is freezing! £12.50 (Always a blast!).
c) Disco - Most groups on centre (max capacity is 400+) go to a massive disco in the sports hall dome and plays mainstream bleurgh and old school cheesiness: this can grind my gears somewhat! (Please stop!) £15

Donning the PGL blues!
With a Canadian (running joke). 

Deserts:
a) Ambush - A glorified version of hide & seek in teams, where we put on army gear and camouflage up! £10 (Fun for all the family!).
b) Robot Wars - In rival teams, the groups battle against each other making cardboard cut out robots, that they put on, before battling it out in the arena where they are blindfolded and throw flour and water at each other. £8.50 (Exceeds expectations).

A pure feast of enjoyment no?

Deep fried mars bar,
not a battered poop!

Insert random anecdote: One mountain bike session my fellow instructor was leading a maintenance bike check... where he got into a stickier situation than when 'Sticky' the stick insect got stuck on a sticky bun. "The tyre pressure needs to be as hard as an apple... but as soft as an orange." I immediately spat out my drink and was in hysterics for some time, along with the accompanying teacher, something that went over the heads of the kids and also my colleague! Random anecdote finito. 

Right from the off I knew I would not be a draconian disciplinarian, like my teachers gone by. I chose the "you're wasting your own time" tactic, which at times had diminishing returns but was still decent.
The most effective and brilliant way to get the attention of my children/minions (everyone is obsessed with Despicable Me here) was to do a chant to get everyone's attention, rather than shouting at kids.
For example, "Oggy oggy oggy" and they reply "Oy oy oy" = silence! The more creative the better! Other PGL examples: a) "I don't care", "I love it". (b) "Who let the dogs out", "Who? who? who?", along with the YMCA, We will rock you, Spongebob Squarepants, Scooby Doo and so on.

Just a bit special.... :)

Syttende Mai!

Unlike several martinet drill sergeant teachers before me, I was all about creativity and fun, perhaps with a page of learning discretely tucked away between the Richie happy-do-lally catalogue. This involved using copious amounts of facepaint (Sassy Saturday, xenophile celebrations with Suzy & Geeska!) and using the costume cupboard as much as possible, a must on Wacky Wednesday.
PGL for me is like one beautiful triple teared sponge cake. Amazing job (sponge), great mates (jam and cream), beautiful scenery (icing), delicieux!

As you can well imagine this job is quite rewarding and humbling at the same time. Some kids from underprivileged backgrounds, mental or physical disabilities, for example, really have the time of their lives and can even shape their lives for the future.
They will never forget that week at PGL where they climbed to the top of tree climb (75ft), or went on the giant swing, hit that gold in archery or rofl-ed on the floor laughing at their raft building attempts and the close friendships they formed. You can't take that away from some people.
It increases confidence, teamwork and communication to name just a few, but generally at the end of it all many come out in floods of tears as they depart PGL, begging not to go or begging you to come with them!

This is why I loved being a group leader and the job itself has had a profound impact on me. "Choose a job you love and you will never have to work a day in your life!"  REMEMBER THAT RICHIE!
PGL really can play an extremely positive role in a child's development. You get to meet such wonderful, funny and enthusiastic young people and I was rewarded for being as funny, juvenile and wacky as I wanted (groups gave me money, vouchers, chocolate, cakes, cards, letters: nice bonus ey?).

Useless superheroes!

I will never ever forget this time of my life, some of which has been perhaps the happiest I can remember, it will be a very sad day for me when I leave this wonderful place. I vehemently recommend this position (especially at Dalguise, Scotland is beyond fantastic, apart from the midges!) to anyone who is good with kids, enthusiastic and loves outdoor activities.

Wifi spot...

Sure the WiFi was a slow as a wheezy sloth with a severe limp and a heavy suitcase where the wheels have just fallen off and the gossiping (something I avoided quite well, as I DON'T CARE AND IT'S NOT MY BUSINESS) was reminiscent of a teenage girl starting a degree in gossiping, hearsay & airing your dirty laundry... mere afterthoughts to be honest.
At times I really questioned if I should get paid at all for this job (even though they do pay us in laughter and smiles, i.e. not much, for this job but I ain't complaining!), as like I said, this is not a job for me it is a hobby, THE BEST HOBBY EVER!

P.S. 1) Thank you a gazillion brabillion times to PGL for hiring me, I cannot thank you enough!!!
2) Thank you Adam Fine (2nd cousin) for teaching me the wonderful game of 'Spud', which has coincidentally taken PGL by storm!
3) Box shuffles are just awesome fun (ala Toy Story 2).
4) Wheeley suitcases make for great makeshift laundry bags (running joke I started, "Richie, are you leaving?" "Yup fed up of you lot!"... hilarity ensues....). "Look ya feckers, its got wheels on it, zoom zoom zoom!"
5) I love & loath you JP for tricking me into believing that comedian Ross Noble (currently filming his hilarious show 'Freewheeling', complete with a film crew) was coming to PGL, a centre full of kids, because of my tweet offering him a go on PGL's Giant swing. What followed was a nerve jangling hour or so of my boss putting me on the phone to the boss of PGL Dalguise, who then had to call head office of PGL :O. In my uber excited and gullible state I gleefully believed JP's lie, the big meany! Panic over but not without a scare for all!

Richie's Scottish Adventure!

First stop... Edinburgh!

After a tranquil and scenic train ride in, especially as I approached Edinburgh, I was filled with feverish excitement. 5 days. 5 precious days of holiday away to travel bonnie Scotland!

I was giddy and literally bouncing off the ceiling at the prospect of getting into my Chinese tourist persona, which involved taking a plethora of non-stop photos, and taking everything this idyllic and at times stunning city had to throw at me.

Equipped with my irksomely heavy rolling suitcase, I traversed as much as I could before my patience wore thin at hauling around this behemoth of a carrier bag. That didn’t prevent me from getting jaw cramps from the breathtaking Edinburgh backdrop.

 It was an absolute joy strolling and at times skipping gleefully through the picturesque, stone cobbled streets of the capital; Edinburgh, you may have a new resident in a year or two, I love it that much! 

Museums, historical sites, parks, quirky Scottish shops, you name it, I was mesmerised by Edinburgh’s beauty: many, many merry hours spent!
With nowhere to go and a heavy wheelie suitcase by my side/rolling behind me, my resolve and my arms were beginning to fail me.

I therefore, as any on the ball tourist does, sought the nearest tourist information point and eventually meandered down Princes Street, where I stumbled across my place of sanctuary for the night: £12 at the Caledonian Backpackers Hostel.

A real fruit salad of cultures it was: Spaniards, Aussies, Swedes, English, Scots, Americans and an extremely garrulous Latvian. The majority of which all joined in on a spontaneous night out which involved a fair amount of merriness, both with and without liquor, which reached a crescendo at a nightclub that reeked of vomit! Yay!

After an impromptu evening of inebriation, I envisaged a morning of throbbing headaches and sure enough it descended upon me with a fury I had not foreseen, rendering me completely of any eloquence and the ability to articulate how I was to get to the bus station to a confused, yet very helpful Czech receptionist; Sorry!

A Megabus journey awaited, which is never much fun, but who cares... next stop, Glasgow!!!! :D

Second stop.... Glasgow!

Messed up the photo again...

After a fairly tumultuous bus journey, (non-stop crying baby, travel sick guests and a toilet door that would not close) which felt like several days rather than hours, a disgruntled, dishevelled and irritable Richie finally trudged off the bus to a sodden Glasgow.

Another cheap hostel awaited, “St. Enoch Square”, where I met an extremely intelligent, hospitable and captivating South Korean-German who was studying law. We spoke for quite some time in the evening on the law system, I loved it. I mean I do love to learn!

Mind powers!

Before that however, I got my tourist mindset in full gear, headed to the nearest tourist information shop and planned my day ahead from there.... HELLO SCIENCE MUSEUM!

What followed were several, knowledge driven hours of science... oh and a prolonged spate of jovial immaturity! See pics for more details.

I have always been mesmerised by the cosmos and my fascination was heightened at the 16:30 planetarium showing, for which I had quite rightly purchased a ticket: I couldn’t wait!

What may have been construed as “badgering”, when referring to my non-stop questioning to the poor planetarium speaker, I finally left the science centre, complete with several pages of note taking, at around 5pm.

Unlike the beautiful Edinburgh, where I was trigger happy snappy snappy with my aging camera, the merchant city of Glasgow possessed none of the charm, character and awe that the capital had in abundance, IMO (for fear of upsetting the Glaswegian tumbleweed which won't read this blog). Personally I feel it is a city trying to reinvent itself and not entirely sure in which way to go about it.

Never judge a book and all that but in terms of photo worthy pictures, let’s just say they were hard to come by. However my unabating optimism and enthusiasm would not waver like a dying ember.

Thriller!

Next up was a strange viewing of Glasgow’s most noteworthy Necropolis park, near St. Mungo’s, which looked over most of the city. A peculiar sight and one for me that encapsulated Glasgow itself... not the image of the icy spectre reaching out a cold withering hand, more the fact of a lack of identity, bolstered by random and quirky jigsaw pieces that don’t quite fit.

George Square!

On an unrelated note I did very much enjoy the Sainsbury’s salad bar and the £3, 9-inch pizza hut margarita: Bargain city!

2014 is a big year for Scotland as many may well know. As I am predisposed to adore sport, my interest lay firmly in the direction of the upcoming Commonwealth Games, rather than Scottish Independence, which would take place in Glasgow itself. 

A more mellow night out was on the agenda in Glasgow with some of my hostel mates, which was good fun; I really do enjoy meeting randomers and off the cuff socialising, ala Interailing 2013. *PLEASE READ MY BLOG, I AM AN ATTENTION SEEKING WHORE!* 

On the whole I thoroughly enjoyed my brief stay in Scotland’s second city, but I cannot foresee me racing back there anytime soon. Soz!

Final stop.. Aberdeen: aka the Granite City!

My third and final stop would be a long overdue reunion with my very good friend from home, Shaun (3^rd from the left). He is currently undergoing his fourth year finals at Aberdeen University, studying Psychology (Good luck to you Bau!).

There wasn’t much to say apart from a lot of laughter, drinking, comradeship, reminiscing, food and Lacrosse (which was awesome!).

A drunken Mayweather no1 pose

If I may permit myself to say a word to two on the city itself, cheers. Aberdeen is an odd city. Not one building in the centre can escape the cloudy paintbrush that has been swept across the city.

The saying “paint the town red” must have been mistranslated when those town painters arrived in their Transit vans/horse and cart/piggy back to say “paint the town grey”. They did a good job at that but again the city itself did not really appeal to me. 

Two days of chilling out with a great mate was just what the Doctor, specifically catered to Richie but has no medical expertise or medication to extend my way, (not really a Dr at all then come to think of it) ordered.

So that was it. My Scottish escapade had come to a magnificent theatrical close. As far as performances go, my mini tour of scratching the Scottish surface delivered with flying colours.

I am becoming so fond of this wonderful country: It’s people, culture, nature, I really could go on. It will be a very sad day when I leave this place.
I may try and change the saying “don’t know what you’ve got until its gone,” to “cherish what you have got for every second it’s worth, because this is frigging amazing,” ... or something a tad catchier!

Not all news is negative news!

I don't really do blogs where I plunder my innermost thoughts and even tribulations but as I have already broken my New Years resolution (mind your own business what it was!) I have decided to be all deep and meaningful and stuff... so here goes.

Recently I undertook a thoroughly engaging and enriching - don't worry there won't be much of this cheesy mush... of course there will be that is my strapline! Richie: Lots of cheesy mush! - News Associates journalism session where we got a taste of what journalists are faced with on a day to day basis.
We were shown what to look for in articles to make them appealing and eye catching to the public, how important scrupulous and meticulous details are before ending with a news room scenario.


The more I listened and watched the more I learned about the cut throat nature of the printed press and how the state of apathy, not empathy ruled supreme.
Appalled is too strong a word but I was certainly rather disheartened about how newspapers respond to news.

Most news is negative, that is what grabs the headlines. The ongoing crisis in Syria, expenses scandals, critics of the police to name but a few. An endless multitude of negativity and the realisation of how flawed a race we truly are.
The ocean, like news, can be an unforgiving and cruel mistress. Positivism is drowned by habitual skepticism and ill feeling in the sweltering, unrelenting desert.
But every now and again the helpless, flailing man kicks hard to grab onto the fast escaping lifebuoy of hope.
Treasure these rare moments - like the Chilean Miner Crisis - for they are fleeting and a mere whisper of them can be lost in the wind.
This is not enough. Good news is so few and far between I don't want to dive into that icy cold abyss.

But there is hope. That hope is sport. Sport is the light.
Here you can not only analyse such sunlit perfection, you can bask in its warmth and splendour.

"ENGLAND WIN THE WORLD CUP!"
                 "ANDY MURRAY WINS WIMBLEDON!"









"GOLD FOR TEAM GB!"



"NICK GRIFFIN IS DEPORTED! - No wait sorry got carried away there, wishful thinking.

Even in England's Ashes humiliation, on the opposite side of the coin Australia are celebrating their well earned triumph. Bad news for one is good news for another!
Sport however frequently weaves its own webs of controversy, criticism and corruption with drug scandals, match fixing and poor role models, so it is not exactly squeaky clean but sport is a spectacle and a wonderfully enjoyable one at that.
The London 2012 Olympics illustrates this point so much more beautifully and eloquently than I can muster through words.
A nation forgot all its troubles and cares to unite under one banner. A harmonic celebration where we rejoiced with one another through the wonderful world of sport.

This is what I want to do. It may not be as important as curing the sick, or building bridges (literally and figuratively) or educating the minds of tomorrow but I know sport's positives and there are many.
I'm a positive person on the whole and on the whole I want my job to be positive as well, wouldn't you?


On an unrelated note, thank you to my five (now six, whoop whoop!) followers who have stuck with me through morbidly obese (thick) and cycling training svelte (thin).

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.