I had a most interesting chat with someone I regard as a superior investor yesterday, who is also omniscient as regards football investment.
He described 2009 as his annus horibilis, with every one of his major ( non-stock market) investments showing a loss ( and in some cases needing propped up with cash)
He made a bit on the bounce, but overall he estimates he is about 35% down in total asset value over the year - and he regards that as not bad going.
But his major preoccupation has been with football teams. The sport is a busted flush in this country, with the top Scottish Premier League teams collectively owing well over £100 million, all making losses, and no real prospect of salvation. Even Rangers and Celtic are now looking as if they will become also-rans as the recession bites, what with Setanta going bust and so on.
He tells the story of the very rich American family who thought they would like to buy Rangers - a mere pound or two would do it and HBOS would be delighted to get their money back. There would be almost automatic access to Europe, something that would not be guaranteed with any of the of the English teams ( pace Chelsea and Man U, and they ain't for sale even at £1billion.)
So a conference call was arranged.
Now it so happens that there has been a book written about the rescue of Celtic by Fergus McCann, and the Americans had read it, to get the feel of Scottish football.
McCann, of course, is a very canny Scot who made pots of dosh out of the deal - and found a wife, too.
So the call started with the Americans saying that a new Chief Executive and Chairman would be needed, and they knew of just the chap.
There was a pause.
" Who?" asked the Scottish side.
" Waall we think this here guy Fergus McCann is a real sharp cookie, and we would want him for Chairman."
There was a deadly hush.
It was pointed out that he was a Roman Catholic, and Rangers were Blue Noses i.e. Protestants.
" Waal we figure if a black man can be President of these here United States, then a Catholic can be Chairman of Rangers."
As Jesus once said, it is easier for a rich man to pass through the eye of a needle...
Showing posts with label Religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Religion. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
Friday, August 21, 2009
Why "Castleton" Dancing Ladies of Braemar?
"Stumbled on your blog quite by accident when I googled Castleton Dancers - as I do from time to time, just to see if we are getting famous! I thought I should explain where the 'Castleton' comes from. Braemar used to be two villages, Castleton the protestant one,-with a castle- and Auchendryne, the Roman Catholic one on the other side of the river. We happen to use the village hall on the Castleton side to practise...so hence we are the Castleton Dancers. Next performance is on Tuesday at Birkhall for Prince Charles. Lovely to meet you all last week and hope your fund raising was successful. Marilyn"
So now you know.
Despite John Knox, the Highlands were long a bastion of Catholicism, and, indeed, it's arguable that those Scots supporting both Young and Old Pretenders were largely Catholic, and those supporting the English were Protestant.
That, however, is far too simplistic a description of the '15 and '45, both of which I've always felt were much more about helping oneself to a bigger slice of cake than about religion, blood lines or, of course, principle.
So now you know.
Despite John Knox, the Highlands were long a bastion of Catholicism, and, indeed, it's arguable that those Scots supporting both Young and Old Pretenders were largely Catholic, and those supporting the English were Protestant.
That, however, is far too simplistic a description of the '15 and '45, both of which I've always felt were much more about helping oneself to a bigger slice of cake than about religion, blood lines or, of course, principle.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
In Budapest
I'm on my way back to Romania with what I thought was a really sneaking new way. Glasgow Luton, Luton Budapest train almost immediately to Sighisoara.
In theory its almost perfect.
In practice yesterday, the first leg went perfectly, but when I got on the Wizz flight to Budapest, they announced they were having to pick up people in Venice ( Venice!) who had been stranded there by a broken down aircraft.
The result was I didn't get to Budapest until 2 am, no train, nowhere to go.
So I went to my favourite Golden Park beside Kelleti station ( because its handy for everything). The Wizz desk was still open so I complained about the diversion and they sold me a half price ticket to Tirgu Mures from Budapest for lunchtime Tuesday.The hotel gave me a a 70% discount for a room ( including their excellent breakfast) and here I am waiting for the plane.
In the middle of all this I picked up 2 bottles of Neuburger.
You may recall I have an ongoing search for the true Neuburger wine for the Mayor. He has always complained that it should have a greenish tinge, and none of the producers so far have achieved this.
This time, it does.
The other thing I liked ( apart from the sparkling weather) was some upmarket graffiti.
It read " Christianity is not dead! It is only asleep! It will awaken for the Apocalypse!"
I bet Church attendance in Mexico has gone through the roof....
Update:
The flight to Transylvania was 2 hrs late taking off. We loaded up on time then sat there waiting for them to get the engines going.
Actually, the problem was not so much that they couldn't get the engines to wrok - they couldn't get them to work on their own.
Tirgu Mures doesn't have the jumpstart leads the bigger airports do - so the aircraft has to be able to work itself. In this case, it couldn't - until the man with the screwdriver and hammer came out and did the equivalent of giving it a kick.
Worked fine after that...
In theory its almost perfect.
In practice yesterday, the first leg went perfectly, but when I got on the Wizz flight to Budapest, they announced they were having to pick up people in Venice ( Venice!) who had been stranded there by a broken down aircraft.
The result was I didn't get to Budapest until 2 am, no train, nowhere to go.
So I went to my favourite Golden Park beside Kelleti station ( because its handy for everything). The Wizz desk was still open so I complained about the diversion and they sold me a half price ticket to Tirgu Mures from Budapest for lunchtime Tuesday.The hotel gave me a a 70% discount for a room ( including their excellent breakfast) and here I am waiting for the plane.
In the middle of all this I picked up 2 bottles of Neuburger.
You may recall I have an ongoing search for the true Neuburger wine for the Mayor. He has always complained that it should have a greenish tinge, and none of the producers so far have achieved this.
This time, it does.
The other thing I liked ( apart from the sparkling weather) was some upmarket graffiti.
It read " Christianity is not dead! It is only asleep! It will awaken for the Apocalypse!"
I bet Church attendance in Mexico has gone through the roof....
Update:
The flight to Transylvania was 2 hrs late taking off. We loaded up on time then sat there waiting for them to get the engines going.
Actually, the problem was not so much that they couldn't get the engines to wrok - they couldn't get them to work on their own.
Tirgu Mures doesn't have the jumpstart leads the bigger airports do - so the aircraft has to be able to work itself. In this case, it couldn't - until the man with the screwdriver and hammer came out and did the equivalent of giving it a kick.
Worked fine after that...
Sunday, December 21, 2008
...and a Marriage
The church in Nemsa had been damaged by a storm that had left most of the roof in a field some way away.
This is the Romanian Orthodox Church as opposed to the Lutheran Church that the Saxons used to use and now completely unused, or the Catholic Church - similarly unused.
Today was the re-dedication and naming of the Church, and the marriage referred to is that between a priest and his church.
We were bidden for 8am, only to be told that it would be 9am - or later. I should know by now never to turn up on time as whatever it is is always late.
Anyway, sharp at sometime after 9 two horses cantered up the road, one with a Romanian flag and one with the diocesan flag of Sibiu. This was followed by a string of black Mercedes and Audis, the Mayor's battered Daewoo and Erne bringing up the rear in the police car on which only the blue light flashes.
I had not realised quite how big a deal today was. The Church itself only holds about 50 people, and, rightly, the Bishop of Sibiu decreed that locals were to be allowed in and others were to remain outside. In the event some people had come from 4 or 5 hours away, and stood outside in the lightly falling snow - even Bucharest bigwigs.
I counted as a local, so the Mayor, the School Principal, Alin and I got to stand immediately in front of the screen that separates the altar from the congregation. The reason for all the smart cars was because there were no fewer than 12 priests present, including the number 2 in the Romanian Orthodox Church, sent by the Patriarch as his personal representative. We started by all walking around the Church and having it renamed St. Nicholas's
The service was beautiful, including much incense, bowing,crossing, prayers and singing all the time. The village priest, more than somewhat overawed by his superiors turning out in such big numbers, prostrated himself three times, then received his badge of office - a newly made crucifix.
As at all weddings there were tears - in this case the local priest overcome with emotion, and the Archbishop of Sibiu & Transylvania with fellow-feeling, remembering when he had received his crucifix. Then came the sermons, which, although I could understand little, and Alin could not translate because of the hush, had a marvellous cadence and power. I understand a little now, and one of the sentences was that "This Church is one of the Pearls in the crown that is the Romanian Church - as you can see by looking around. Christ will always be waiting for you here."God's power clearly shone from the Archbishop's face as he blessed us all.
The service lasted a little under three hours in total, but didn't seem so long. The newly roofed Church was beautiful with its bright blue and gold-starred ceiling, paintings and frescoes of the nativity, of Christ's crucifixion and rising again from the dead. After it was over, all the priests greeted us individually and wished us a happy Christmas.
Naturally there was a meal, carols and some speeches, but the presence of so much religion didn't seem to bother the locals, who behaved as they always do when food and drink is laid on.
During the lunch ( quite early, only about 2:30) many people came to speak to the Mayor and also to me. In that immediate area, we are now the largest individual landowner after the City Hall, and with next year's agrarian cycle beginning to be thought about, there is much to be decided.
The people speaking to the Mayor were mostly from Bucharest and Brasov asking for favours. This was the reason they had come today to this ceremony, because it was open to all, unlike the local events. The priests of course also had requests - that was why there were so many and of such power in the Church hierarchy.
The Mayor's most recent particular power is because the next Minister of Labour got there because of his endorsement. They have been friends for more than twenty years, but the Mayor is very happy in his village and has no wish to live in Bucharest. His protege wanted the bright lights and the Mayor made sure he got them. Think of the occasion as a cross between Mayor Daley of Chicago and Marlon Brando in "The Godfather" on his daughter's wedding day. Being Romania, it works both ways - there is a quid for every quo.
Soon enough it was time for the priests to leave. They disappeared into the falling snow, leaving a new Church, a newly elevated priest, and a new hope.
Behind them, too, were the sounds of Christmas merrymaking in the village.
This is the Romanian Orthodox Church as opposed to the Lutheran Church that the Saxons used to use and now completely unused, or the Catholic Church - similarly unused.
Today was the re-dedication and naming of the Church, and the marriage referred to is that between a priest and his church.
We were bidden for 8am, only to be told that it would be 9am - or later. I should know by now never to turn up on time as whatever it is is always late.
Anyway, sharp at sometime after 9 two horses cantered up the road, one with a Romanian flag and one with the diocesan flag of Sibiu. This was followed by a string of black Mercedes and Audis, the Mayor's battered Daewoo and Erne bringing up the rear in the police car on which only the blue light flashes.
I had not realised quite how big a deal today was. The Church itself only holds about 50 people, and, rightly, the Bishop of Sibiu decreed that locals were to be allowed in and others were to remain outside. In the event some people had come from 4 or 5 hours away, and stood outside in the lightly falling snow - even Bucharest bigwigs.
I counted as a local, so the Mayor, the School Principal, Alin and I got to stand immediately in front of the screen that separates the altar from the congregation. The reason for all the smart cars was because there were no fewer than 12 priests present, including the number 2 in the Romanian Orthodox Church, sent by the Patriarch as his personal representative. We started by all walking around the Church and having it renamed St. Nicholas's
The service was beautiful, including much incense, bowing,crossing, prayers and singing all the time. The village priest, more than somewhat overawed by his superiors turning out in such big numbers, prostrated himself three times, then received his badge of office - a newly made crucifix.
As at all weddings there were tears - in this case the local priest overcome with emotion, and the Archbishop of Sibiu & Transylvania with fellow-feeling, remembering when he had received his crucifix. Then came the sermons, which, although I could understand little, and Alin could not translate because of the hush, had a marvellous cadence and power. I understand a little now, and one of the sentences was that "This Church is one of the Pearls in the crown that is the Romanian Church - as you can see by looking around. Christ will always be waiting for you here."God's power clearly shone from the Archbishop's face as he blessed us all.
The service lasted a little under three hours in total, but didn't seem so long. The newly roofed Church was beautiful with its bright blue and gold-starred ceiling, paintings and frescoes of the nativity, of Christ's crucifixion and rising again from the dead. After it was over, all the priests greeted us individually and wished us a happy Christmas.
Naturally there was a meal, carols and some speeches, but the presence of so much religion didn't seem to bother the locals, who behaved as they always do when food and drink is laid on.
During the lunch ( quite early, only about 2:30) many people came to speak to the Mayor and also to me. In that immediate area, we are now the largest individual landowner after the City Hall, and with next year's agrarian cycle beginning to be thought about, there is much to be decided.
The people speaking to the Mayor were mostly from Bucharest and Brasov asking for favours. This was the reason they had come today to this ceremony, because it was open to all, unlike the local events. The priests of course also had requests - that was why there were so many and of such power in the Church hierarchy.
The Mayor's most recent particular power is because the next Minister of Labour got there because of his endorsement. They have been friends for more than twenty years, but the Mayor is very happy in his village and has no wish to live in Bucharest. His protege wanted the bright lights and the Mayor made sure he got them. Think of the occasion as a cross between Mayor Daley of Chicago and Marlon Brando in "The Godfather" on his daughter's wedding day. Being Romania, it works both ways - there is a quid for every quo.
Soon enough it was time for the priests to leave. They disappeared into the falling snow, leaving a new Church, a newly elevated priest, and a new hope.
Behind them, too, were the sounds of Christmas merrymaking in the village.
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