Opinions are divided in the Village Pub, where the Half Awake Barman is doing his best to referee the discussion. A number of us do not believe a television screening the Olympics belongs in the bar where the locals drink, where we try to maintain a certain quality of conversation except on Friday nights when there is a band on; and Sunday afternoons when wives, partners and same sex spouses are permitted when the Village Cricket Team are playing away.
I would rather debate the coalition government's failure to grapple with the economy, or even the deteriorating situation in Syria than the merits of the South Korean volleyball team. But others, led by the Man from the Garage and Malcolm's mate Tom, argue that live coverage of the greatest sporting event on earth will enrich time spent in our favourite hostelry.
The Half Awake Barman reaches for the remote. I finish my drink and go home to make traces.
Don't bother going anywhere near that London: it's as if there's been a coup by a milatary junta led by Ronald McDonald. Seriously.
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