I took Bernie out for his walk only last week and a we heard a horse approaching from around the bend, or at least someone with a better than moderate degree of talent operating coconut shells.
Turns out it was an horse and a trap with an elderly gentlemen a top. I manoeuvred the dog with world’s highest prey drive up onto a verge to let the anachronism past but the old fellow pulled up to say hello. The lane we were all on cuts through the best part of 500 acres and with maybe a dozen or so humans living there. You tend to talk to each other.
Pleasantries were exchanged then the old boy reminded us all that there was only another 20 minutes of good light and he better skedaddle.
My point here is that while the image of this carriage was charming, not having headlights was the least of his problems. There’s a reason horses have been relegated to being almost novelty items. One reason they are still used at football matches is because 99% of the scum they are marshalling have zero experience of horses beyond watching them go round in circles at Cheltenham.
No matter how good the horse, how fabulous the trap, how tip top the driver the potential for disappointment and disaster is overwhelming. We had to let ’em go and embrace the motor car.
When the car was launched, some of them had little men in front holding red flags aloft. Danger here!
Where there are humans, there absolutely will be human error.
Does anyone know when the first recorded incident of drink driving was recorded, or the first incident of a man driving a car whilst under the influence if LSD, or the first time a car crashed because the driver fell asleep at the wheel? Me neither, but I guarantee you that man has merrily gone about his business of screwing up since he first attempted to eat an an uncooked chicken and poisoned himself.
Fast forward to the 21st century and the police have received 999 calls because KFC are shut. No matter how sophisticated the world gets, man is always there, spilling a pint over things.
Last night the referee and he faceless clowns operating the VAR system took human interference to a new depth.
The whole point of VAR is insure that the officials don’t miss anything that harms the integrity of the game, and not pause play in order to rerun any element of play more complex than a claim for a throw in.
I won’t trawl you through the entire shambles. Suffice it say it is difficult to imagine how the boys in the black shirts could have made a bigger fist of things.
Referee Paul Tierney even managed to bungle the Son penalty, which was kosher. You’re allowed to stagger your run-up, what you’re not permitted to do is feign striking the ball, before striking it.
Did VAR ruin the game? No it didn’t – no more than the last drunk man to get behind a wheel, mow down a complete stranger and cause unimaginable distress was a solid reason for the motor car to be abandoned and our roads filled once again with jaunty horses and traps.
Some humans ruined the game.