The Commonwealth Games is the sporting pinnacle for any self-respecting monarchist
This is a less a multi-sporting event and more a reassertion of the rule of the British Empire. Whether you like it or not, the Queen is still the boss of lawn bowls.
Usually when I get asked to cover a major sporting event I call my lawyer. A trip to the Beijing Olympic Games in 2008 ended with a stint in prison after an ill-judged report (China is a lovely place by the way, the air quality is exceptional) and my uncharacteristic hippie rants from the South Africa 2010 World Cup got me in hot water with FIFA after I strayed slightly off the pro-corporate message (McDonald’s, in my honest view, are an entirely appropriate sponsor for a major international football tournament). So it was a pleasant surprise when I got asked to go to Glasgow for the Commonwealth Games, which since 1930 has been the world’s premier sporting, cultural, royalist and colonial showcase.
Since its inception the organisers of the Commonwealth Games have banned all the shoddy, non-obedient countries that rejected our monarchy and foolishly sought some other hierarchical doctrine. Hateful republics like France and the US do not pass the Commonwealth Games Federation’s “fit and proper country” test. Forward-thinking nations like Uganda, and the beautiful former penal colony of Norfolk Island in the south Pacific (population 2,302), are textbook examples of countries that do.
Britain has been the world’s most dominant colonial force since the invention of the boat, and despite what critics claim, continues to be so. But with so many basic, essential colonial activities such as murder, pillage, slavery and rape now sadly outlawed by EU pen-pushers, we’ve had to come up with new ways to assert our dominance. The Commonwealth Games was invented as the perfect way for us to win at sports. And, if you ignore those bloody Australians (whom I shall be lobbying hard to exclude from future competitions), it’s worked a treat.
Free from the constraints of disobeying Her Majesty, the Commonwealth Nations are able to enjoy an orgy of sporting excellence here in Glasgow. So far I’ve checked out the artistic gymnastics, the netball, the hockey, the swimming, the artist gymnastics, the squash and the artistic gymnastics. But, let’s face it, the real action is down at the Kelvingrove Lawn Bowls Centre. The best match of the week so far was definitely the narrow 15-14 win for Namibia against Jersey in section B of the men’s pairs. I had my money on the tax haven, as I often do these days, but African lawn bowling heavyweights Namibia pulled out the crucial victory in a nerve-jangling final end. Dramatic stuff.
It was hard to see how the epic Jersey-Namibia clash could be topped, quite frankly, and I feared for a moment that Glasgow 2014 had already peaked. But then I remembered how much artistic gymnastics there was still to come. And if you need any proof whatsoever that the Commonwealth Games really is the sporting pinnacle for any self-respecting monarchist, then look no further than Friday’s squash action down at the Scotstoun Sports Campus. Before being sealed inside a giant glass cube, competitors must commit to a lifelong allegiance to Her Royal Highness, Queen Elizabeth II. Anyone who fails to comply will be shipped to Norfolk Island after the Games for an extended “excursion”. Exciting stuff.
I can’t wait to watch the closing ceremony on Sunday. It’s sure to make for wall-to-wall televisual joy. But I’ll be disappointed if the occasion is not used to promote the strength of the Union. Surely, the success of these Commonwealth Games is proof enough that without Westminster telling them what to do, the Scots will revert to drunken savagery and uncontrolled ginger breeding.