Sometimes we sit on mummy’s lap when she’s watching sport on the picture box in the living room.
I can never quite work out what it is although it’s called a television, which Fred says is sort of Greek for far seeing. The picture box is rather like the computer but has two funny little boxes that mummy presses to communicate with it. I think the computer is much easier because I can do all sorts of things with it using the keyboard and the touchpad. It’s not so good with moving pictures though as it is very slow.
Anyway, we have watched some nice sport this summer, sometimes after a bath, sometimes if mummy’s come in late and thinks we need a cuddle, and sometimes just when it’s been too hot or wet to go out and eat grass.
We don’t watch racing in the summer, we watch that on Saturday mornings in the winter. I like Mr Francome and some of the others, but that funny hairy fellow with strange hats that talks loudly and interrupts should be got rid of, in my opinion.
In June we spent some nice days watching the people in white where one was above the other most of the time. They go “plop, plop, plop, plop out advantage Federer”, or Murray, or Nadal, or someone’s name anyway. Mummy said that Mr Nadal won the whole thing but we didn’t see that bit. It looks like the sort of sport Victor would enjoy – running this way and that, but not very far. Victor seems to spend most of his time sleeping these days though. Not sure whether he thinks of anything while he does it.
Some evenings or Saturday afternoons we have some sport we’re not too keen on. There’s bang and a lot of cheering then it all stops and someone gets interviewed, then it all happens again. We don’t like the bang. Sometimes it doesnt have a bang to start with and that’s better. We watch some of those and its usually someone jumping, which looks like fun. Fred would like to have a go at the triple jump, he says. I like the long jump myself. Fred says the high jump looks interesting but he can’t see how you could wriggle and jump at the same time and still clear the fence. Mind you, they don’t do it very well either because they keep knocking the fence down.
This week we had a nice sport with people walking around on lots of grass. It looked wet and windy at times. They hit a little ball and it went up in the air and landed, sometimes people applauded and sometimes they went ‘ooh’. When they did that they commentator often said, “Oh dear” in a sad sort of voice, which was quite funny. On Sunday mummy only let us watch a few minutes of that, but she took us to watch as soon as she came in, so maybe we missed most of it. A man with a long name hit his ball a long way then he walked up and there was a lot of cheering, then he put it in the hole and there was more cheering and a little while later there were some speeches and then we went out into the garden for some grass. Fred and I discussed this idea of hitting a ball with sticks and we think we could do that round the garden if we had enough space. We might try it next time mummy isnt watching.