The last briefing was a bit of a disappointment, as an end of series episode goes. When you’ve invested so much time in a series you hope that the last episode will tie up all the loose ends and leave you feeling satisfied.
I don’t want to be one of those people that’s very negative and bashes the government all the time. I am mostly hopeful that this virus will just become another mild disease in our library of human infections and we will be able to carry on paying about as much attention to it as we do cholera or diphtheria. I also think that a new infection is never easy for any government to manage and we won’t know how effectively they’ve done this for a while. Having had more deaths now might put us in a better position if there is another winter outbreak and allow us not to lockdown again because it was never really about saving all lives. It was only to save the lives that could have been saved if they needed a ventilator, so that no one was denied that treatment due to lack of capacity and to stop the NHS crashing under the pressure.
Having said all that I have to write about the last briefing because it was just so funny. It was the 92nd episode and had all the clarity of the water that was in the infamous Fambridge Road ditch in the 1890s (before they had a proper sewage system and when the council had refused to spend money on a new night cart and horse to remove the waste from the cess pits).
Chris Whitty looked like he was actually going to vomit as the Prime Minister outlined plans to reduced social distancing to 1m plus, allowing people to go into houses (in a slightly confusing way), and drink in pubs.
He didn’t share Boris Johnson’s optimism.
“It’s a balance of risk, it’s not risk free -absolutely not risk free. No one thinks it is.”
The Prime Minister, when questioned about this, couldn’t understand what we were all seeing.
“There’s much more agreement between us than you might expect.”
The scientific advice is clear: the virus hasn’t gone away, you could still catch it, you could still die, you must wash your hands (you filthy pigs), it would be better if you didn’t go near anyone ever again, you are in an Agatha Christie novel (specifically, the 39 steps).
The government message was also clear: we’ve done enough, you’re on your own now, spend money to get the economy going, we’ve decided which parts of the economy we would like to save, we don’t think love is important but if you do we are not going to prosecute you for it.
It takes some balls to make this your last episode.
While we are talking about balls let’s discuss the affinity of the coronavirus to the various types.
As we know, it doesn’t go anywhere near a football. Football is safe. You might be missing the crowd noise but don’t turn it on because noisy environments change all that. Whatever you do, don’t sing, don’t get the vuvuzela out. Check Chris Whitby’s 39 steps: the virus loves noise. However, footballers are perfectly safe. It’s a game you play outside. You stay 2 meters apart from your opponents at all times. It’s a big ball. There’s no risk.
Golf balls are so small, there can’t be any risk there. The old men are back on the course. They have to print off their own score cards, which they are very cross about and the 19th hole is closed until the 4th of July. Golf is safe. Get those octogenarians back out there. I know, Nick Watney and Cameron Champ tested positive in the first couple of days of the PGA tour but they felt fine, so there’s no risk.
Tennis balls are safe too. Every dog in the country has been trying to tell us that for a while. Corona virus can’t live on a tennis ball. Tennis is a great game, there’s always the distance of an extended trombone between you and your opponent and if you do touch the ball then never fear because the dog slobber will have killed off all the germs. There’s no risk with tennis.
Bowling balls are only safe outside. They are large and hard. No one really thinks a large hard ball is a good thing but we’ve got to give the over 80s something to do.
Rugby balls are an odd shape, so they will always be risky. Also, rugby players love a cuddle and we know that cuddling is never going to be allowed again.
Cricket balls are an odd one. You would have thought they would be fine. They are hard but so are golf balls. They are the size of a tennis ball, dogs will slobber on them if no other balls are available. People who play cricket tend to keep their distance from each other and always do it outside. It’s a great sport for a picnic, which we have learnt definitely beats the virus: just look at how fast the deaths have dropped since picnicking became the nation’s favourite pastime. It tends to be a quiet sport. It’s great on the radio. The sound of leather on willow, the tweeting of birds and whispering commentators discussing cake are the only things to punctuate the silence. You would think that there would be no risk with cricket. However, as a cliffhanger to the final series, Boris Johnson said that he was missing village cricket but he wouldn’t be getting back to it any time soon because the cricket ball was a “natural vector for the disease.” Someone funnier than me noted on Twitter that it must be because it started in bats. The virus loves a bat. It’s a nice joke but it doesn’t explain tennis.
Balls!
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