Never Seen A Man Juggle A Hat Before

Halfway through the week, I got a text from my friend D: "Our kid's band is playing at the Star and Shadow this Friday - spread the word". I spread the word, and duly found myself at the Star and Shadow yesterday evening in the company of friends, including D. The band was on as part of the Circus Circus night, which has just started (as of yesterday), so as we walked in we were greeted with three acrobats on hoops, trapeze and ropes.

The Star and Shadow, Newcastle's independent cinema, is an interesting venue for this sort of thing. On the one hand, the main space is a wee bit small for circus performers, and means that anyone on the far side of the room wanting a drink has to sneak across the performance space and pray that they don't get dragged in for a bit of audience participation. On the other hand, everyone can see what's going on, and the proximity to the audience does add that thrilling live performance sense that something might go wrong, as indeed it did at one point, where the lady twirling a hula hoop (very gracefully, it must be said) accidentally let go and knocked over someone's pint. The audience ranged from around 10 to around 70, and everyone seemed to be having a good night, including the Tyne Bank and Wylam Breweries, whose beers were shifting fast over the bar.

The night was one half circus cabaret, and the second half D's Brother's Band playing their take on jazz classics. The circus performers were great, including the aforementioned Lady of the Rainbow-Coloured Hula Hoop, a burlesque dancer, the compere, who had a nice line in juggling hats and machetes, and a contortonist whose party piece was to feed himself through two tennis rackets at once, whilst commenting "My name is Mr Freak, and I'm here to make the world a bit stranger!". (One of my friends commented it would be even more impressive if he'd fed the tennis rackets through himself. Like Werner Herzog and his shoe.)

Carnival of Crows were the final act. I originally knew them as Elaine Binney and the Jazz Rascals, and was there for their recording of "Live at Durant Hall" (Durant Hall being part of my church, the Newcastle Unitarian Church). I'm no music critic, so my best comment is that it was great to see them perform again; they're a great band to dance to. The rest of the evening was taken up with drinking Wylam Bohemian, trying to prevent loss of life and limb being caused by another friend's dancing (impressive, but when it happens at the Boiler Shop people nearby usually clear a space), and listening to the Tale of the Dead Dog in a Suitcase. Tune in next week for the recalling of that one...

The Olympic Spirit

And here is the article I talked about last week. In other news, I own a flat. Still working on the "Home of CyclingDiver" sign to go beside the door!

Now that the Games have finished, what memories are we left with? Undoubtedly, we have seen some truly incredible feats of athleticism. No-one who saw Usain Bolt winning any of his three gold medals will forget the sight. As my best friend said to her young son before the 100m final: “You need to be looking at the television right now, and don’t blink or you’ll miss it!”. And you could say the same of Mo Farrah’s astonishing double gold in the 10,000m and 5000m races, Jessica Ennis’s victory in the women’s heptathlon, or Bradley Wiggins’ winning both the Tour de France and an Olympic time trial gold in the space of a few weeks? 

All physical feats that most human beings could never hope to match, yet perhaps what appeals most to us are the human stories behind each triumph. Experts in the field of cycling will no doubt rave over Bradley Wiggins’ remarkable achievement, but who among us, regardless of how ignorant we are of cycling, could fail to be moved by the fact that his first action, on learning he’d won the gold, was to get back onto his bike and go in search of his wife and children? Or any of the following moments:

• Gemma Gibbons’ reaction to winning the silver medal in the women’s 78kg class judo, tearfully mouthing “I love you, Mum”, in memory of her dead mother.  
• Mo Farrah, a Somalia-born immigrant to the UK, being cheered onto two gold medals by the British public before the eyes of the world. 
• Kathie Copeland’s incredulous comment to her rowing partner Sophie Hosking on winning the women’s lightweight double sculls: “We’re going to be on a stamp!” 
• Andy Murray defeating Roger Federer to win the gold at the same place where he had lost the Wimbledon final to Federer four weeks ago, sprinting to the player’s box to celebrate with his friends and family after defeating Roger Federer – then reaching out to hug a young fan.

These stories (and the many, many more that could be added to them after the last two weeks) are not unique to these Games. Earlier games too saw human beings transcend nationality and even race to offer each other a hand of friendship and support. Most people have seen the “Black Power” salute at the 1968 Mexico City Olympics, performed by John Carlos and Tommie Smith, but how many know that the gloves they were wearing actually belonged to Peter Norman, the third athlete on the podium? Norman, a supporter of civil rights (he is wearing a civil rights badge in the photograph), saw that they had forgotten their gloves. He approached and offered them his gloves to wear. (38 years later, Carlos and Smith were pallbearers at Norman’s funeral.) 

One final story, this one from the famous, or perhaps notorious, 1936 Berlin Olympics. Most of us have heard of Jesse Owens, the famous African-American athlete whose four gold medals, won in front of the Nazi regime, demonstrated the hollowness of the racist Nazi ideology. Fewer have heard of Luz Long, the German athlete and national hero who competed with Owen in the long jump. 

During the competition, Long noticed that Owen was struggling during the qualifying rounds for the long jump. He walked across and suggested that Owen try an adjustment to his technique. Owen took his advice, and went on to win the gold medal in the event – at which point he and Long embraced and walked arm-in-arm to the dressing room, posing for photos together. 

Owen said afterwards: “You can melt down all the medals and cups I have and they wouldn't be a plating on the 24-carat friendship I felt for Luz Long at that moment. Hitler must have gone crazy watching us embrace."