I could just imagine all those bandwagon jumpers watching the match in their fresh-out-of-the-packet England jerseys and going, “hang on, I thought the object of the match was to score tries?”

Speaking of tries… on first viewing, I agreed with all the pundits and thought it was a try. But then I went online and saw this screenshot, and whaddya know, it wasn’t a try after all.

However, I think in a situation that tight, and when all the replays (and holy crap, there were a lot) are inconclusive, the benefit of the doubt should be given to the attacking player. So the try should have stood.

But even then, I think South Africa were the worthy winners. Over the seven weeks, they played the best all-round rugby, even though they were on the receiving end of the best try of the tournament.

England played well too, of course, and did much better than expected. But they weren’t exactly fun for the neutrals to watch. In fact, Wales scored 50 more points in 4 games than England did in 7. But hey, it got them to the final while Wales were knocked out in the pool, so go with whatever works.

Well done to the Springboks, and roll on NZ 2011!

At first, I thought it was possibly in bad taste, but then I saw the Times’ list of the 50 worst sporting injuries (via Sportsfilter) and thought that’s way more tasteless. Check out number 15 — broken teeth, concussion, shredded nutsack, all in the same match!

Anyway, I figure most of us watch sport partially waiting for a Bad Thing to happen. Fisticuffs in a rugby match, drivers spinning off in motor racing, bad tackles in football, crashes in cycling. It all adds to the excitement and provides a good talking point. As long as no-one gets seriously hurt (unlike some of the people in that Times articles), then I figure it’s fine to revel in a sportsman’s misfortune. And so on to the crashes…

5. Burghardt vs. Dog

Dogs. The arch enemy of cyclists everywhere. Although this old labrador looks seriously unfazed after getting clattered by Marcus Burghardt during the Tour de France. Check out the guy at 42 seconds in the black shirt trying to look all casual after he had obviously just called the dog from the other side of the road. “Dog, what dog?”

Also, bad PR for carbon fibre wheels. Either they’re really weak or that dog is really strong.

4. Uran gets wet

One of the more unusual crashes of the year, Colombian rider Rigoberto Uran decides to take the scenic route off the Riedbergpass mountain in the Deutschland Tour, overshooting a bend and flying into a stream. As the German commentator so eloquently puts it, oy oy oy oy oy.

3. Chute massive!

Big one from the Tour of Poland a month ago. Made all the more delicious because two of the main crashees were Graeme Brown and René Haselbacher, two riders unequivocally hated for their tendency to cause crashes. And as most cyclists and cycling fans know, the one who causes the crash is never the one peeling himself of the pavement a few seconds later. Justice!

Stay tuned until halfway through the clip and you’ll see Jimmy Casper literally flying through the air and over the finish line. If only points were awarded for style!

2. Sprinters on Ice

Note to race organisers: It does not help riders go faster if you cover the finishing straight in soapy water. Seriously. Alessandro Petacchi took his fifth asthma-powered victory of the Giro d’Italia, the rest of the peloton crosses the line on their arses.

If you prefer to watch the crash from some Italian guy’s balcony, click here, it’s a pretty good view actually.

1. “I landed on a fat sprinter”

As if Belgium is not awesome enough already — I mean, Tin Tin, Jean-Claude Van Damme, beer… — I now find they dub their cycling highlights with cheesy euro-disco. I’m moving there!

Stage 2 of the Tour de France into Ghent, and a massive pile-up blocks the road from kerb to kerb. This crash is cool for a number of reasons: Firstly, it involves the yellow jersey, which always ups the excitement factor. Secondly, the ensuing confusion meant that Tom Boonen celebrated too early and ended up being out-sprinted by his lead-out man Gert Steegmans. Boonen later claimed that he had deliberately let Steegmans win. Number of people that believed him? 0.

Finally, it resulted in this quote from cocky Welshman Geraint Thomas: “I fell soft; I landed on a fat sprinter.” Thomas is a first year pro and was the youngest rider in this year’s race. Great way to make friends, Gez!

Earlier this afternoon, a decidedly shaky looking South Africa just scraped past Fiji in an absolute corker of a match. When Fiji start running with the ball in their hands, there is no team in the world better to watch. Some of their tackling, though… yikes.

And yesterday? What a day. It’s not the done thing to say this aloud here in Wales, but I was actually very pleased to see England stick one over on the Aussies.

Australia had to have been the most over-rated team of the tournament by far — a woeful pack and an average-at-best back line. Lote Tuqiri thought England only have one world-class back in Jason Robinson, but someone remind me how many tries Tuqiri scored in this World Cup? Oh yeah, zero.

And then last night with France beating New Zealand? One word: Wow. It even got Eddie Butler all worked up. It got off to a great start with France fronting up to the Haka, and the second half was probably the best 40 minutes of rugby I’ve ever seen.

I don’t mean to blow my own trumpet or anything, but I did have a tenner on France at 8/1 to win the whole tournament before it started. I wasn’t very confident after the opening match against Argentina, obviously, and France are still one of the least consistent sides in the world, but now I’m feeling slightly better. Allez les Bleus and all that.

Oh, and from my wallet’s point of view, that was never a forward pass. Well done ref.

And New Zealand? They’re still the best team in the world, but that don’t mean crap if you also hold the title of the biggest chokers in the world. Four more years, boys.

But now it’s back, and so am I after spending a couple of days down in Cornwall. Luckily, it just so happens the weather in the first week October was better than it was was throughout the whole of the summer.

Despite only going for three days, we packed quite a lot in, and spent the first afternoon at the Eden Project. Now, I’m not exactly into gardening, so I didn’t really know what to expect before I arrived, but I was pleasantly surprised.

There’s lots to see and learn about in the two large biomes (big greenhouses, pictured), one representing the Mediterranean and one representing the tropical jungle. The time of year meant that the crowds weren’t too big and we just spent a good four or five hours wandering around exploring.

Afterwards, we spent the rest of the day in Padstow, aka Ricksteinville. To say that Stein dominates Padstow would probably be the understatement of the century. As well as three restaurants (his main one is undergoing a major extension by the look of it), he also operates a bistro, a café, a deli, a patisserie, a gift shop and a cookery school.

I mean, sheesh, he’s a good cook and all, and is probably responsible for a large chunk of the local economy, but his sheer omnipresence in every street makes it easier to understand why some of the locals may not like him. And by the way, £17.50 for a plate of cod and chips? I know cod is endangered, but for that price, I’d want the last cod in the entire world.

Padstow was also home to the world’s worst tourist attraction: the National Lobster Hatchery. Now, I know the name should have given me a clue, but it was right there, so we went in. Basically it’s a room smaller than my living room. And it has some lobsters in it. Maybe three, if I had to guess. And you could look through this window and see some baby lobsters. The whole lobstery experience took about thirty seconds and cost 3 quid. Underwhelming.

The next day, we went to the Charlestown Shipwreck & Heritage Centre, a museum dedicated to the many shipwrecks scattered around the Cornish coast (and elsewhere).

Unfortunately, I was feeling pretty ill that morning, so I wasn’t exactly in the mood for history. But when I wasn’t on the verge of throwing up, it did look quite interesting.

Finally, we went to the fishing village of Mevagissey, which I must admit I had never heard of. By that time, I was feeling slightly better, and the glorious sunshine meant I had a nice afternoon rooting through the old curiosity shops and watching the fishermen working in the harbour. And as you can see, it was an extremely picturesque harbour. The ice cream was rather good, too.

All in all, it was a pretty good few days, made better by the unseasonably warm weather. Kinda made up for the summer we never had!

For reference, I’ve included a picture of my coin jar. Although the observant amongst you may have noticed it’s not exactly a jar, per se — more like a big fuck-off coin bottle.

It’s actually a 4.5 litre bottle of Bell’s Old Scotch Whisky, and it’s been the family change repository for as long as I can remember.

If it was a champagne bottle, it would be a Rehoboam, but obviously we’re not posh enough to have one of those, and I’m not entirely sure the names apply to whisky bottles.

It probably takes two or three years to fill, and we generally don’t empty it until it gets right to the top. One good thing is that if we ever get burgled, the burglar would probably get a hernia trying to carry it away, because it weighs an absolute ton when full.

And as you can imagine, the job of counting it all and bagging it up is not exactly very fun! Not unless you like the smell of copper on your fingers for days afterwards, anyway.

Before it started, I questioned the participation of the minnows in the RWC, but I must admit I’ve been pleasantly surprised with the closeness of some of their matches against the bigger teams.

Yes, there have been some absolute tonkings — with the Aussies scoring 91 against Japan and the All Blacks putting 108 on the Portuguese — but there have been other occasions when the bigger nations have really struggled with the physicality and sheer enthusiasm of the smaller teams.

There hasn’t yet been a true upset — Argentina beating France on the opening night doesn’t count — but the gap between the minnows and the established rugby nations seems to have narrowed considerably since the last world cup.

So far in this tournament we’ve had Wales struggle to beat Canada, England toil against the USA, and Ireland winning by narrow margins against Georgia and tournament whipping boys Namibia. Against Georgia, the Irish were in serious risk of losing the match, and ended up scraping a thoroughly undeserved victory by just 4 points.

But there is one question that needs to be asked: are the minnows getting better or are the Six Nations teams getting worse? Ireland’s game against Georgia was stacked with tension and great to watch if you’re a fan (like me), but from a coach’s point of view it must have been like having your teeth pulled without anaesthetic.

Ireland could barely string two passes together and spent virtually the whole of the last 20 minutes camped inside their own 22, frantically defending against the Georgian pick ‘n drive. Absolutely woeful. With France and Argentina up next, Ireland could well be facing an ignominious first-round exit. And to think, a few months ago, this was the team just a few minutes away from a Six Nations Grand Slam.

Reigning world champions England have been no better. Old, slow, out of ideas. After wheezing their way past America, they were thrashed by the Springboks and remain the only team in this year’s cup to score zero points. Even Portugal managed a try against the All Blacks.

And Wales? They were probably given the easiest group to play in, but still look decidedly average. The Australians beat us at a canter in the Millennium Stadium, and a QF against South Africa is almost an impossible prospect.

Meanwhile, all three of the Tri-Nations teams have looked awesome. Fitter, faster, more powerful. While the 6N teams have found it tough going against the minnows, the teams from the Southern hemisphere have simply brushed them aside as if swatting a gnat.

Quite frankly, the All Blacks look unbeatable at the moment. All 30 of their squad members could waltz into any other international team in the world, while players like Dan Carter and Richie McCaw are almost on another planet. The only team that looks capable of even challenging them are the Springboks.

So while the gap between the minnows and the 6N teams appears to be shrinking, the gap between the 6N teams and the Southern hemisphere nations seems to be as wide as ever. The trophy is surely going South for the next four years, but where to? New Zealand or South Africa? Wherever it ends up, the meeting between the Boks and the ABs is sure to be a colossal encounter.

I just don’t have the patience for that. I mean, each series of Lost lasts for 24 episodes! One episode per week, that’s almost half a year!

Who has time for all that? That’s not a TV series, that’s virtually a soap opera. If a story can’t be told in less than 18 hours, then maybe they should consider cutting out some of the padding, eh?

But with Heroes, I admit to being drawn in by BBC 2’s excellent trailer, and people on the web who had watched the first run on the Sci-Fi channel also reassured me that, unlike Lost, Heroes did actually have some sort of plot resolution at the end of the series. So I decided to give it a go.

Plus, with Sky+ I could record each episode and watch it whenever I liked. Or at least that was the plan.

I got up to episode 7 and was all set to watch episode 8 when I discovered that some unidentified person had “tidied up” the Sky+ box and erased all the old stuff that had already been viewed. Naturally, no-one actually admits to it, but episode 8 had been deleted unwatched and I had missed the repeat on BBC Three. Bugger.

I guess I could download the missing episode from the Pirate Bay, but quite frankly, I can’t really be bothered. While Heroes was okay, it didn’t really grip me. It just plodded along. There were too many characters, each with their own rather cumbersome storyline, to cram in to each episode and actual plot developments seemed few and far between.

By episode 3 or 4, watching it became something I did when I was bored, rather than something I looked forward to. For a nation with such a short attention span, Americans sure do love their long, drawn-out TV serials. (I kid, I kid!)

So I’ve decided to give up. Missed one episode, can’t be arsed with the rest. I will miss seeing Hayden Panettiere in a cheerleader outfit, but I think I’ll probably be able to live with that.

Vs.

I prefer the M.I.A. version, but I think she has stretched the definition of “cover version” quite a bit. “Re-release” might be more apt.

Although, after watching the old one, I have come to the firm conclusion that if the world had more Bollywood and less Hollywood, Planet Earth would be a far nicer place.

One of the matches that caught my eye takes place on September 15, with odds-on tournament favourites New Zealand taking on Portugal in Lyon. Is this possibly the most one-sided match-up in the history of sport? Not just rugby, either, I mean all sport. Ever.

While sports like football have the occasional uneven contest — I’m thinking of the plucky non-league outfits taking on Premier League giants in the 3rd round of the FA Cup — absolute drubbings are relatively rare, with double-figure scores almost unheard of. These matches can often be quite close, with the minnows putting up a good fight in the opening half before succumbing later on in the game.

This is not going to be the case for Portugal in the RWC. The team has never played in the RWC before, and their squad is made up entirely of amateur players. They have never played against a Tri-Nation team before, nor have they faced England, Scotland, Ireland or France.

In 1994 they did put out a team to play Wales, but lost 102-11. Their only victory against a recognised rugby nation came when they beat Italy 9-3 — but that was in 1973 when Italy were in much the same position that Portugal are in now.

So what is the point of Portugal being in the World Cup? The IRB would no doubt say something about expansion of the global game and garnering interest in nations that don’t have a history of playing rugby.

But how is it going to help Portuguese rugby when the All Black second XV beats them by well over 100 points? Imagine you’re a young Portuguese kid and you’ve heard that your national team is playing in a big global event in a sport you think looks pretty cool. You’re not going to be impressed when you see them being utterly pummeled into the ground are you?

You could also argue that their participation gives the Portuguese players a chance to play against their heroes. Indeed, their coach Tomaz Morais has said:

“We have to enjoy each day because this is a lifetime experience. For us we already are the champion team because our World Cup was to get here.”

That’s all well and good — the romanticism of sport, David against Goliath etc etc — but rugby union is an incredibly physical sport with the risk of serious injuries. Muhammed Ali had legions of fans when he was in his pomp, but none of them would have been allowed to climb in the ring with him.

In the technical areas, like the scrum and the breakdown, experience is vital and putting a team of enthusiastic amateurs up against the might of the All Blacks reeks of irresponsibility. No-one wants to see a repeat of the 1995 tournament, when Ivory Coast player Max Brito sustained serious spinal injuries playing against a heavy-hitting Tongan team.

Sure, the All Blacks will be aware of Portugal’s inexperience and will probably go easy with the scrummaging and tackling. But that’s not exactly sport, is it? It becomes a bit of a farce when the main objective of one team is to not seriously injure their opponents.

So what’s the answer? First of all, the RWC needs to be reduced in size. Like the woeful Cricket World Cup that took place earlier this year (what do you mean you’ve forgotten already), six weeks is just too long. There are too many meaningless pool matches, and by the time we get to the knockout stages, the casual fans will have already turned off the TV.

This post could easily be about Namibia, Romania or Georgia, so the tournament could easily be reduced to 16 teams. You could even reduce it further if you include teams like Canada, Japan and the USA. Although these teams have a higher level of competition, they are still regularly thrashed when they play the top tier nations.

Minor nations need regular competition, and although they certainly gain experience by playing in a World Cup, 100 point hammerings every four years do them no good. Instead, they should play in a tournament of developing rugby nations, along the lines of Plate, Bowl and Shield competitions used in rugby sevens.

This format gives teams something to play for, with a prize at the end, and stops them just making up the numbers in the elite competition. They could play it every two years, providing regular fixtures between teams of a similar standard.

Furthermore, why not allow national teams to compete in European club competitions like the Challenge Cup? Sure, this wouldn’t work for most nations, but for European countries like Portugal, Georgia or Romania, why not? It would foster interest in countries where rugby doesn’t get much exposure and give fans a chance to watch a closely contested match. Surely that’s better than throwing the minnows straight into the deep end against human wrecking-balls like the All Blacks?

Until then, I had been a bit old fashioned and still listened to my music on CD. But being disabled, that didn’t work too well. Because I can’t reach the CD player, I had to ask someone to change the CD whenever I wanted to listen to something new. As you can imagine, that got very annoying, and quite often I just didn’t bother to listen to music. Or I just listened to the same CD eight times in a row.

But with the Soundbridge, that changed. It just plugs into your normal stereo, and you use the remote control to select whatever music you want, which then streams from your PC. You can also choose from dozens upon dozens of internet radio stations. It’s ace.

However, it could be better. First of all, the display is really small. You can’t read it from across the room, and if you want to use the remote, you have to go right up to the Soundbridge to see what your doing. Which sort of defeats the object, and is not useful for disabled people like me.

But help is at hand! With Thorsten Lange’s freeware programme VisualMR, I have virtually got rid of the remote control all together. It allows you to control the Soundbridge from your desktop, giving you all the options available from the remote without having to leave your computer. It really is an invaluable tool, and it makes me wonder why Roku don’t include their own software controller as standard.

Furthermore, before restarting this blog I signed up with the wildly popular last.fm, which posed another problem altogether. When you listen to music with the Soundbridge, you don’t actually use one of the players you need to scrobble — ie, iTunes, Winamp or Windows Media Player. Instead, the mp3s are served straight from a software media server, in my case Firefly, through the Soundbridge and to your speakers.

But once again, the wonder that is the world wide web provides a simple solution in the form of sbPopper, a small application that runs alongside last.fm in your system tray. Although it didn’t work for me at first, a lot of random poking about in the Vista firewall finally fixed things and it started working.

So now everyone can see what awesome music taste I have by checking out my last.fm profile. Although it is rather annoying that I now have to have four programs running just to listen to music.