It appears that I am now the scribe for the Oxford Hash House Harriers. The awesome responsibility foisted upon me by the OH3 Mismanagement is only somewhat met in magnitude by my ignorance of what it might entail. A survey of the professional press seemed in order and it was reassuring to see full coverage of this week’s hash in the papers.
The first stop was at AA Gill’s column in the Times because his name seemed so apropos: initials the same as the famous substance abuse support group, and surname a fluid measure equivalent to a quarter of a pint (or a “sip,” amongst this lot). Although the food at the beer stop was, as ever, warm, welcome, and approaching the sublime (ie, it was served with beer), Gill disappointingly spent his entire review on some restaurant where you choose, hunt and kill the orangutan your server will subsequently barbecue at your table…noteworthy, but not related to the trail. Jeremy Clarkson, above, was as ever the voice reason in this confusing world.
The Daily Mail spent large portions of the front page covering various aspects of the hash. Editorial policy probably dictated the bashing of we few foreigners in the kennel, ‘bloody foreigners coming here, ruining our good times, drinking our beers…it’s disgraceful.’ Amen, brother.
I may be old and I may be married, but I ain’t dead yet and so, like most of the male poplation I always turn to page 3 first whenever I have a copy of the Sun…on the other hand, the quality of the Page 3 girls has slipped a bit since Hash coverage has been included.
The Sun’s unpleasant aftertaste needed attention, and the Daily Sport was just the sort of cachou required. The models in this issue may not have made it all the way to the Circle, but the writing (we all buy the Sport for the writing, eh, guys?) seemed a bit more misleading than the photography. As a case in point, take the Daily Sport Boob Count…while most of those listed are, indeed, boobs it should be pointed out that a few of them are actually tits.
From this brief survey it would appear that print journalism is dead; but if it isn’t, I promise to do my utmost in this position to kill it.
On-your humble correspondent, et cetera-on,
(brief reviews of Red Lion, Victoria Arms, Bricklayers Arms, and the Cavalier to follow at http://1pumplane.wordpress.com )