Let's twist again

Friend, I have never been a sportie. School games left me in a corner of a tarmac court, quivering least that terrifying phenomenon,
THE BALL, should fly in my direction. But right now, I am quivering with outrage at the conduct of the European Handball Federation over the dress code of a group of young Norwegian sports’ women. The EHF have fined the team, it seems, for wearing SHORTS on the beach handball arena, instead of bikini bottoms. I ask you: why have the members of the EHF gotten their underwear in a twist? Whatever the answer is: they get to wear their underwear as underwear, while the sports’ women are expected to wear their underwear as outer wear. Just imagine the furore if male footballers were expected to go on the pitch with their private members covered only in cod-pieces? Surely all that matters is that the handball team wear clothing that is uniform, comfortable and non-hampering, while playing? Right now, I stand in the sand with these feisty young women – so long as they don’t send THE BALL in my direction.

A Traveller in Time

During the 1970's, the BBC presented us with A Traveller In Time, a serialised drama to fit their afternoon children’s drama slot. With a name like that and the era it was broadcast in – that of Star Trek, Blake’s Seven, Dr Who – I expected to witness a hokum futuristic set peopled by humans in helmets and boiler suits, and other motifs of a now defunct space age, entertaining a lost denizen of the twentieth century. But, lo, what a surprise! A Traveller In Time, written by Alison Uttley, is the story of a teenage girl who lives in a relative’s country house while recovering from an illness. In and about the old farmhouse, she encounters people dressed in sixteenth-century clothing and soon realises she is drifting between a bygone time and the present day. The ‘historical’ people intrigue her and slowly, she pieces the puzzle together. She, the heroine, becomes the sometime companion of a group of people conspiring to free Mary Queen of Scots, imprisoned in a nearby castle. The story was beautifully filmed, the two eras enchantingly interwoven, the heroine sensitive to whichever century she happened to be in. She goes on helping the conspirators, being careful not to reveal what she knows about the eventual fate of the Queen of Scots. The drama became the highlight of my week, and I felt real loss when it was over. Alison Uttley was unusual in that she was born in 1884, and became the second woman to graduate from Manchester University, with a degree in physics. Uttley was intrigued by the idea of time travel, as many physicists still are. The novel was the result of this interest, combined with her fertile imagination and skill as a lyrical writer. Later in life, Uttley was to write stories for illustrated children’s books, creating characters like Little Grey Rabbit and Sam Pig. Happily she was with us until 1976, long enough to witness the triumph of the Apollo missions in space. What she would say to our slow progress in conquering the solar system, if she were here today, we can only imagine.