Sundays aren't really ever going to be the same. For what seems my entire life, I've been watching Andy Gray and Ricahrd Keys spout on about football on Sky TV. But they've been sacked because of their sexist comments and there's going to be a new tranche of presenters. I didn't really consider whether they were any good. They were simply there. But then I'm not a Sky subscriber, I've merely watched incidentally while at work os have never been in a position to wonder whether I'm getting value for money from my subscription.
Quite a few people didn't like the duo. Keys complained that 'dark forces' had been responsible for the leaking of their 'banter' to the newspapers. Sad.
As I wait for the Chelsea Liverpool showdown, it seems apt that I trundled off to the Wellcome Institute this morning. It was an exhibition called High Society and related how drugs and narcotics had got a grip on society.
In some places, tribes chew on roots to surge into collective hysteria. I breathed in the exhaust fumes of the Euston Road to get to the institute and the pollution obviously contrived a potent mix with the incense which was wofted around at St Pancras Old Church.
They sang some great old hymns at church. Perhaps I should have laid off the coffee at the Wellcome cafe.
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