Now that cricketers have stopped all the Black Lives Matter nonsense (at least the England and Australia teams have) I decided to watch the one-day international match on Thursday. It was good to get televised sport again - given our month-long exile from the internet - but what a strange experience. You could hear the gentle hum of conversation from the crowd, but there was no crowd.
I am watching another match this afternoon from a deserted Old Trafford and, in the background (ever so faintly) I could hear the gentle rhythm of a steel band. Someone at Sky was playing the wrong background noise. It made me appreciate how much live sport (when watched on television) relies on the atmosphere generated by the crowd.
Back on Fantasy Island (as I now think of the UK) and the dear old government have indeed lost the plot with both Brexit and the Covid-19 crisis. They are ruling by ministerial diktat without the Commons being allowed to participate. Ten million tests a day (compulsory, perhaps) and digital passports which will allow people to return to work, and be monitored all the time. I can just imagine a Covid Marshall (think John Wayne in a hi-vis jacket) confronting people and “Let me see your papers”.
A totalitarian nightmare awaits without a return to the Rule of Law and government by consent.
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