Test Drives and Late Drama

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoSunday started the way Sundays around here tend to — with rounds, because the calendar's opinion on rest days rarely matches the ward's. Brisk enough, though, and done with enough time to spare that the rest of the morning still felt like it belonged to the weekend rather than merely following it.

Home early, then straight into something with a bit more shine to it — a test drive booked at iCAUR, the sort of appointment that turns an ordinary Sunday into one with a little anticipation built in. It delivered, too. A good spin, by all accounts — the kind of drive that makes the walk back to your own car afterwards feel like a slight downgrade, even when your own car's done nothing wrong.

From there to TRX for lunch, which rounded the morning off nicely, followed by a bit of a diversion into merchandise — Anita had her eye on the new Mercedes F1 top, and there's a particular efficiency to a shopping trip with one specific target rather than a vague browse. In and out, mission achieved, no lingering required.

Home early again after that, with the evening earmarked for staying exactly where we were — a proper quiet night in, the sort that doesn't need justifying after a day that had already covered its bases nicely. It opened with two new episodes of The Gentlemen, which is precisely the kind of viewing built for a lazy Sunday evening — stylish, a bit knowing, easy to sink into without asking too much of you.

Then it was time for the race, and this is where the evening's good mood met some resistance. George Russell came home second, respectable enough on paper, but not quite the result that gets celebrated with any real enthusiasm — the sort of finish that reads as fine rather than fitting. And then, as if the day had been saving up one more twist, United contrived to get pegged back for a last-gasp equaliser, the kind of goal that arrives just late enough to undo whatever composure had built up over the previous eighty-odd minutes. There's a special sort of quiet that follows a stoppage-time leveller — not shouting, not despair, just a resigned sort of silence that says everything on its own.

So the day ends on a slightly flatter note than it started, which feels almost unfair given how well the earlier hours had gone — a good test drive, a good lunch, a mission accomplished at the till, and a show that delivered exactly what was asked of it. Sport, as ever, declined to read the room. Still, one dropped point and one runner-up finish is a fairly mild way for a good Sunday to lose its shine, and there's always the next race, and the next match, to put it right.

A Sunday That Stayed Local

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoMiddle Sunday of the long weekend, and the decision got made early and firmly: town could wait. There's a particular wisdom to sitting out the crowds on the day everyone else has the same idea, and Publika made a perfectly good alternative — close enough to feel like barely any effort, removed enough to avoid whatever congestion Sunday had planned for everywhere else.

Before lunch, a bit of a wander turned up the iCour V23, which turned out to be genuinely worth the look — neat is the word that stuck, the sort of understated impressive that doesn't need much dressing up to make its case. Not the day's main event, but a nice bit of unplanned interest all the same, the kind of thing a long weekend has room for precisely because nothing else is competing for the slot.

Lunch followed at Nippori, which did what a good lunch is meant to do — filled the gap, didn't overstay its welcome, left enough of the afternoon intact to actually enjoy rather than merely survive.

The shape of the day changed after that, though. Anita had a wedding to get to that evening, which meant heading home in good time for a proper rest beforehand — the sort of event that asks for a bit of preparation rather than a rush out the door, and reasonably so. Weddings have a way of demanding their guests arrive as something closer to their best selves, which takes a bit of runway.

With the house emptying out for the evening, the remaining hours found their own quiet purpose — a proper dent finally made in the backlog of videos that had been patiently queuing up, the kind of catching-up that feels almost virtuous even though it's really just sitting still with good company on screen. Dinner got ordered in rather than made, sensible given the solo evening, and there's a particular ease to a meal that arrives at the door requiring nothing more than opening it.

The day rounded itself off properly with United against Ipswich, and for once the football cooperated — a comfortable win, no late scares, no need to watch the closing minutes through fingers. After a season that hasn't always been generous with its comforts, one arriving on schedule felt almost suspicious, in the nicest possible way.

So: a Sunday that opted out of town and lost nothing for it, a neat little discovery over lunch, an evening handed over to a wedding and, in its absence, to some very overdue video-watching, and a football result that actually matched the mood rather than fighting it. Middle Sundays of a long weekend don't always pull their weight — this one rather did.

Good Weather, Wasted On Nobody

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoRare thing, a properly good day outside — the sort with actual blue in the sky rather than the usual negotiated truce with the clouds — and naturally the day's plans involved being indoors for most of it. There's a particular comedy to that, spending a fine afternoon under fluorescent lighting while the weather does its best work entirely unwitnessed. Still, it wasn't wasted exactly, just redirected.

The morning opened with rounds and, threaded through them, an update on a lymphoma case worth the extra attention it got — the kind of detail that's easy to file away as routine until you remember it's precisely the sort of thing that shouldn't be treated routinely. Worth the pause, in other words, even on a day with other places to be.

Those other places turned out to be KL Hilton, which hosted lunch and dinner both, and did rather well by both — good enough that "the food was good" undersells it slightly, though it's the kind of understatement a day like this earns. The event itself ran the full stretch between those two meals, and earned its keep too: a proper spread of regional speakers, one dialling in from Saudi with the sort of composure that makes video calls across time zones look easier than they are. Sat with Jerome for most of it, which always makes the long stretches more bearable — company has a way of shortening even a full-day programme.

By the time dinner wrapped things up, the day had already delivered more than its share, so there wasn't much guilt in switching gears entirely for the evening — off to watch Manchester United open their season against Hull, optimism intact, the way it always is before kickoff, however unreliable that optimism has proven in seasons past.

It did not go well. Two-nil, and not the sort of two-nil that leaves room for creative interpretation — just a straightforward beating on opening day, the kind that sets an unwelcome tone before the season's even found its feet. Disappointing barely covers it, though there's a certain grim tradition to United fans starting the year disappointed; at least the ritual's consistent, even when the football isn't.

So: a day that gave generously in the morning and afternoon, and took a fair bit back by evening. Good conversation, good food, a talk worth attending — and then ninety minutes that undid a fair chunk of the goodwill. Balance, of a sort. Just not the kind you'd choose.

For an Early Night

Or at least that was the plan. United would be playing Real Madrid at 3 am tonight as a season opener. I have a long day tomorrow but watching the game was just too tempting. One of the ways to make it world would be to start with an early night, and set the alarm to catch the second half of the game.

Let’s see if things go according to plan then ....

Lost Again

It was getting excruciating every weekend now. Even though we were playing a relegation struggler in Sunderland, I got a feeling that United would come undone. And I was proven right again.

What was devastating was the manner of the loss. We were hardly in the tie. We conceded first but managed to equalise. Came the second half, the complexion of the game changed when Big Sam Allerdyce somehow managed to suss out our tactics.

Sunderland played with a higher line and United just couldn't keep hold of the pace. We were behind again, deservedly so in the final 10 minutes. Added to that, we lost Darwin through dislocated shoulder.

It looked like the rumour mill would be churning double quick with the latest loss. A lot would be written about the arrival of Mourinho and at the rate we were going, that might just be a relief.

Certainly not looking forward to the next game ....