No Sochi posts today because I have been busy making duck costumes (nothing to do with the Lido panto, I just like dressing as a duck) and wrestling with WordPress. I now have a blog, sort of, but nothing to put on it. I feel like the man in the Victorian Punch cartoon: “Nice little barf-room, Liza – what shall we do wiv it?”
I did try to write about the ice-dancing, but I can’t write about ice-dance without writing about Torvill and Dean, and I can’t write about Torvill and Dean without resorting to glutinous cliche. Really, it got ugly. You wouldn’t have wanted to read it.
Normal service should be resumed tomorrow, provided someone does something sensational on something slidey.
I did also, just for fun, count up the number of pages in yesterday’s Guardian sports supplement devoted to each sport. Not counting the front page (which as you know was divided two-thirds/one-third between a picture of Lizzie Yarnold becoming Olympic champion and an article quoting Jose Mourinho calling Arsene Wenger a big fat loser) there were two pages devoted to the Olympics, mostly the skeleton bob, one to cycling, one to racing, two to a mix of sports including motor-racing, boxing and rugby, and a titanic seven to football. It must have been a very interesting week in Football World to have had so much news space devoted to it.