Thursday 22 July 2010

Hat's entertainment...

I'm sure you've noticed that the Reticent Blog has been even more reticent than usual recently. Don't worry, I'm not dead; I have simply been in South Africa for the last 25 days covering the 121st World Cup of Hats for TIME Magazine!

Now I'm well aware that over the last few weeks the World Cup of Hats has been on every single channel on the planet for every second of every day and you've probably all heard enough and seen enough about it to last a lifetime (or at least until the next one in 2014) and I won't be going over it all again here (check out my 4000-page review of the tournament in TIME for a comprehensive account of all the dramatic twists and turns of that magical month), but I would like to share one or two extracts and photos from my World Cup Diary with you…


The official mascot for the 2010 World Cup, Hats Domino.

In retrospect, possibly a bad choice and perhaps the only mistake the South Africans made in the whole tournament. Hats Domino's uptight Victorian values and attitudes frightened children and generally put a downer on everyone's fun.
The first of what would become a series of 'savage cane beatings' occurred during the opening match when he clubbed a child close to death for blowing a vuvuzela in his ear. His reign of terror finally came to an end at the quarter final stage when he was replaced by the friendlier and altogether more cuddly, Hats Waller.



The French arrived looking like dicks as usual.

Winners in '98 and runners-up in 2006, a lot was expected of the mercurial Berets but they fell disappointingly at the first hurdle, drowning in a sea of bad vibes and hatred. By the end of the tournament the French felt nothing but contempt for each other and everyone else. None of this was helped by me asking, in the press conference after their first match, why they'd come dressed as mimes.




This was the Aussies' first ever appearance at the World Cup of Hats and many, not knowing what the corks did but assuming they had a purpose, tipped them to go far. Turns out the Aussies didn't know what the corks were supposed to do either and they were promptly eliminated without winning a game.














Pele famously once said that an African team would win the World Cup of Hats before the turn of the century.

They’ve still got a long way to go in my opinion.

















The laughing stock of every World Cup of Hats since 1578, the Egyptians, in their ridiculous little Fez Hats, are yet to win a single match. This year they excelled themselves, even managing to get beaten by that stupid Jamaican Rasta Hat that everyone had assumed to be a joke.









The Dutch have always been renowned for their beautiful hats and at times they were an absolute joy to watch at this tournament, but once again they lacked that killer instinct needed to win the thing, unlike…









The Germans.
This formidable looking German Hat showed its strength once again, particularly in the pasting they handed out to the English, who found that, while their top hats and bowlers work perfectly well at home, they look hopelessly old fashioned and out of their depth at international hat level.





The English are slowly coming to terms with the fact that they will never again be Hat Champions of the World.












The Stetson, on the other hand, is a hat that continues to punch above its weight. Another fine tournament from the Americans shows that they're finally starting to take hats seriously after so many years tossing about with baseball caps and mortar boards.




The Mexican captain, Angel Hernandez, is one of the biggest names in the world of hats and was followed by a huge entourage of reporters, security and screaming girls everywhere he went.I thought he was a bit of an arse myself and was delighted when him and the rest of his poncey Sombrero-wearing mates were knocked out by the no-nonsense Viking Hats of the Swedes in the second round. Hernandez himself lost an eye to the hat of Swedish captain Henrik Hammersen.


The Turban has always been a poor hat and from the minute they arrived in South Africa you sensed that the Indian team knew it. Bereft of confidence, they lost all three group games and limped out of the tournament.






While they have about as much chance of winning the event as I have of becoming Heavyweight Champion of the World, it is often said that the Scots bring a lot of colour and life to the World Cup party and that they are good for the tournament. I disagree. They drove everyone fucking nuts with their drinking and fighting and everything was much better after they'd gone home.
Without doubt one of the worst hats in the history of hats.




Many people have pointed out that if the World Cup of Hats was held in the winter, rather than the summer, the Russians, with their big, furry hats, would have won it plenty of times by now. As it is it's just too damn hot for them. Once again, the entire Russian team collapsed with heat stroke after 20 minutes of their first game.







The Italian Fedora was as solid and as well organised as usual but struggled to break down opposition defences and suffered a shock early exit.



As we all know, it was the Spanish, with their stylish Flamenco Hats and fiery latino temperaments, who eventually fulfilled their huge potential and got their name on the famous Golden Hat. Well done boys, you deserved it. The best hats won.

Funnily enough I found out afterwards that there was another tournament going on in South Africa at the same time: the FIFA or Hatless World Cup as you will know it better. Spain won that one as well apparently.

A couple of vintage World Cup posters from tournaments gone by:


















Monday 19 July 2010

11 questions about Flying Ant Day...

  1. Do the ants know it's going to happen?
  2. If so, do they look forward to it and say things like: 'I can't fucking wait for Flying Ant Day this year!' or does it hang over them all summer like a cloud? 'Fucking hell, Flying-fucking-Ant Day's coming 'round again.'
  3. Do ants call it Flying Ant Day or just Flying Day?
  4. How do they know to all do it at the same time and who gives the green light to start?
  5. Do they spend the whole day in a state of frenzy and scream things like: 'fucking hell, I'm flying!' or do they take it in their stride. 'Yeah, I'm flying. What of it?'
  6. Do they get depressed on Flying Ant Boxing Day when they wake up and their wings aren't there any more? 'Only another 364 days of crawling around on our crappy little legs like cunts again. Carrying leaves and shit.
  7. Why don't other animals do equally interesting annual role-reversals? Swimming Eagle Day? Walking Shark Day? Flying Badger Day?
  8. Are there any ants that won't do it? 'That's a load of old bollocks, that Flying Ant Day. It gives me the shits.'
  9. Is it an overly ambitious attempt to invade the planet, enslave the human race and begin the dominion of the Kingdom of the Ants or is it just to impress girl ants?
  10. Why is it not a national holiday? After all, it's the only 'day' that doesn't disappoint. Christmas leaves you cold, New Year's is a drag, Valentine's Day is a pain in the arse. Flying Ant Day, on the other hand, delivers exactly what it promises. Nothing more, nothing less. 
  11. Are there any ants that think it's become too commercial?
Yesterday, I spotted an ant in my garden acting in a suspicious manner. Fearing he was up to something, I followed him home and discovered these blueprints laid out on his kitchen table: