Michaelangelo was a genius. Artist, architect, physician. The darling of the Florentine scene. Inventor, scientist, mathematician. But less well-known are his regular stints.
It's not so much the distance nor the time it takes. It's not even the cold nor the pains or aches. I can cope with blisters and the weight of my pack.
Both players and watchers,. No-one knows the rules. That's what makes the game so great. "Just get out there. And slug your opponent!". That's what makes the game so great.
Yuppies, I've been taught,. Are keen on sport. Two slices wholemeal loaf. Into towelette jogging suit. Once round the park. Quick game of squash. Staving off a heart attack.
Complete control of mind and matter. Concentration, manipulation. Movements swift, deadly, graceful. Applying oneself with dedication. Martial arts, an ancient skill.
Three steps forward, two steps back. Oblivious to all around. Psyching up for the big jump. Breathing getting deeper. Then charging down the track. Hitting the board just right.
We'll be singing, when we're winning. We'll be singing. . I get knocked down but I get up again. You're never going to keep me down. I get knocked down but I get up again.
England's goalkeeper since Gordon Banks. Consistent, reliable, a safe pair of hands. But despite all his saves and all his acrobatics. I can't help recalling something more dramatic.
I got a skateboard. Oo-ee-oo!. I'm skating down the street. With my trucks all new. Here comes the NME. Coming into view. Looking for a gimmick. That it can screw.
Watch Ben Johnson on TV. Or try to beat your own PB. The choice is yours. You decide. Get square eyes. Or get outside!.
Birds strung on barbed wire hanging in the sun. Grouse moors trampled to the crack of guns. Greyhounds snapping at a hare on the run. Corpse of a fox when the day is done.
Bing played golf. Do-be-do-be-do. In the rain. Do-be-do-be-do. Struck by lightning. Do-be-do-be-do. Never again Do-be-do-be-do-be-do-be-do.
Every one of them, one in a million. Blaze a trail and tear up the past. Thank heaven for devils and sporting rebels. Count the black sheep, and stuff the rest.
The evolution of humankind. An opposing digit, the use of tools. Inventing the wheel, exploring space. Brain size still developing. Two men and a referee.
Chorus:. Will you come back to me?. I've thought about it many times. Follow your destiny. I understand if you have to leave. . Tell me my love. Why have we separated again?.
Oh, I know that life is hard enough. For you to live without me. You deserve to get all the things. That you give to me. . You see, I'm tryin' to figure out what I need.
Jos Naylor of Wasdale. Greatest fell runner of our time. Running the mountains. And working the farm. Cutting the bracken. Constructing walls. Studded farm boots.
Guess you thought you'd get off easy. Guess I thought you'd never leave me. All I needed was a chance to. Say goodbye, ask you why. . Guess it's all said and done now.
Compass, whistle, cagoul, map. Count your steps along the track. To checkpoint one. Checkpoint two. Checkpoint three and back. Compass bearing sou-sou-west.