DIVING BELL TOLLS

It is too easy, and perhaps even boring, to continue ranting on about the World Football Cup, but if I need to do just that then I would say the most pleasing aspect of the competition was that all-out aggression, in an attacking football sense, seemed to have taken over from cautious defensive play. In so many previous tournaments there were always sides which were determined not to lose, of  'playing for the point,' as we used to say. This time - and it might have been the heat, which undoubtedly sapped energy and thus created more space - most sides demonstrated they actually wanted to win.
This was good news. And so was the fact that no-one seemed to find it necessary to play with a sweeper, an extra defensive player behind the back four - as opposed to an extra man in front. I do hope this new-found desire to create open, attacking play is continued into the Premiership and the Championship. Mind you, there are still those who say that a point from a 0-0 draw is a better result that the loss of a 4-3 thriller. And they are right, of course. It depends on your outlook, I suppose.
But what is FIFA going to do about all those prolonged and embarrassing goal celebrations, and all the diving? In several of the matches in Brazil, a spin and a roll every couple of minutes seemed obligatory to the point that it was almost possible to anticipate when the next player would hit the grass. And roll, and grimmace with pain. You recognise the scenario: an attacker breaks forward, a defender closes in, and you know, just know, that one of them will 'roll' his opponent or spin to the ground having felt the slightest touch.
The shoulder charge seems to have been forgotten and lost in the mists of time. But the real danger, if the diving continues, is that the game could become much more predictable and that physical contact on the field might disappear altogether. That leaves us with the TV slo-no replay cameras, which will be called upon to adjudicate every few minutes. And it's a boring thought.

FLYAWAY FLIES

A few weeks' ago I saw and heard a motorcyclist snarl and scythe his way at speed up a local hill, but more to the point, he was not wearing goggles. And I thought, 'A-ha. You couldn't have done that a few decades ago.' Then, he could not have ridden a hundred yards without getting something in his eye, muck or dust, or some sort of insect. Specially an insect.
In the late 1950s you had to wash the car windscreen after every summer outing, and I can even recall having to resort to a chisel to scrape the skeletal remains of flies and other flying things off the glass. And do you recall those plastic deflectors which were screwed on to the radiator cap in the vain hope they would deflect the flying things away from the driver's sight?
So where have all the flying things gone? Where are the clouds of gnats? There simply don't seem to be insects or tiny things about any more, or at least, not in 1950s numbers. Gardens seem bereft. We have a number of flowers and shrubs that butterflies love, but we're lucky if we see one. And whereas the most potent backdrop noise of summer used to be buzzing bees, now it is the flutterings of a couple of randy pigeons. And instead of gnats and ticks, all we have are slugs, some as big as anacondas.
So where have all the insects gone, and more to the point, will they come back? A lower link of the food chain seems to have gone missing.