Mistfall

Podcasts and smart playlists

May 9, 2008 – 11:57 pm

When listening to iTunes while working I usually like to have all my podcasts play followed by a selection of music. If a new podcast arrives then I like that to be played before returning to the music. I tried a couple of methods for doing this - and discovered that podcasts are ignored when they are in a playlist set to random - before stumbling on the following:

Create three smart playlists. The first holds all the unplayed podcasts. It is defined as:

Set this playlist so that it is sorted by arrival order. This is done by clicking on the first column header in the playlist until the triangle points upwards.

On my machine this smart playlist is called 1.podcast.

The second playlist holds the music that will go into the final playlist. The trick for this playlist is to only have two songs in it. Using one song will not work because smart playlists always remove songs before adding new ones. The second song being there means it starts playing before the smart playlist starts changing its contents and so the music keeps playing. This playlist is defined as:

On my machine this smart playlist is called music feed .

The final smart playlist is sorted by arrival order and aggregates the previous two in the following definition:

With the podcasts being set to update every hour this setup allows all of them to be played as they arrive while switching to music when there are none available. I just now need the time to listen to them…

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Motivational Posters

April 5, 2008 – 5:45 pm

This site allows you create your own motivational and uplifting posters. Naturally enough the BBS elected to make their own demotivational ones. These were some of my attempts.

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Palace World

November 5, 2006 – 2:43 pm

Seeing that the main way overseas people have for legally hearing Palace games and seeing highlights is via the club’s online operations I took a look at it. This appeared in ‘Palace Echo’.

Palace World has been running for a number of years and provides audio and video content over the internet. It is a customised version of a generic web site provided by Premium TV Ltd, a UK-based company which hosts the site and provides facilities for making the game commentary and video highlights available to subscribers. It does this for most of the Football League and the smaller Premiership clubs. In this article I’ll concentrate on the official CPFC site and the subscriber-only extensions.

The most obvious question – is it worth paying the subscription fee? My usual answer to this has changed due to events of the last few weeks. In general it offers some benefits but implements a number of restrictions which make the customer feel as if they paying for the privilege of being done a favour.

The home page of the official site is, put bluntly, a mess. Once you get past the splash screen which advertises the paid content it’s a morass of news stories, links to the paid content and a number of animated advertisements, most of them for betting sites. It looks like it was created by someone on work experience ten years ago when the ‘kitchen sink’ design approach was prevalent. All of this help makes the page over 700KB in size. While that may not seem much in these days of broadband it still has an impact on page loading times. My main gripe is that it gives the impression of being a means to sell products first and a source of information for Palace fans second.

Hidden away under the sub-menus is some very good information about the squad, match reports and related aspects of the club. There is even an option to book tickets online although when I tried it at 3am on a Sunday morning I was told “We are currently experiencing high demand. Please try again in a moment”. Who knew Palace tickets were so sought after? At least the online club shop appeared although the pictures of merchandise need cleaning up as they showed a lot of compression artefacts. The shop does offer a delivery service with reasonable charges for the UK but these become rather large for overseas delivery and probably contribute to a number of foreign fans simply deciding not to purchase merchandise.

Go through two sub-menus and enter your login details and you reach the club messageboard. This long-winded process may explain why on a match day the statistics show only forty-two messages posted on it in the previous twenty-four hours. From my perusal of the posts it seems no better or worse than the comments found on the BBS or HOL although the red text on every page of “we track IP addresses” continues the unsettling anti-customer tone used on the rest of the site. You also get the feeling comments which are more critical of the club will be edited.

The main point of interest for most people is that provided by Palace World. The commentary-only package (£25 a year for non-UK customers) provides a live call of all Palace games via the internet. This is done by Palace Radio for home games and BBC London for away games. The latter is also available via UK digital radio and some cable TV packages. As a result most people within the Selhurst area can get their Palace commentary for free. Those outside that area will find the fee worth paying as they can get live commentary of the game anywhere in the world. This is enjoyable (possibly the wrong choice of word given Palace’s current form) when reading and posting about the events of the game on the BBS and HOL as it happens. It’s certainly not as good as being at the ground but it does provide some communal aspect. The commentary is transmitted in Windows Media format and is accessible by both Windows and Mac users. At least it was at the time of the Sheffield Wednesday game.

The second aspect of the Palace World subscription is the video. This consists of match highlights and behind the scenes clips from Selhurst. The highlights vary in length ranging from the Cardiff game’s seven minutes to the Plymouth game’s ninety seconds – including opening and closing credits. The general rule seems to be that if ITV or Sky cover a game then longer highlights are provided. The quality of them varies. Some consist mainly of replaying a goal multiple times to pad out the length and ignoring most other incidents. Others will show just about all points of interest in the game – goals, saves, misses and cards. Unfortunately Palace home games appear to take the first approach. It should not be too difficult to provide at least eight minutes of highlights for every game. There should be no need to add in slow-motion replays (unless from a different angle) because the computer allows the video to be rewound and stepped through slowly. That it isn’t done except in rare cases implies CPFC and Premium TV are more interested in the money than providing the paying customer with a decent service.

The behind the scenes clips include player interviews, the manager’s pre and post-match conferences and other club related items. The latter are the most interesting as they cover the areas most fans don’t see; the corporate events such as horse racing and community ones like the education department and various charities. While some information can be gleaned from the talks with players and managers the ‘football speak’ is usually so ingrained that nothing of real interest is said. This isn’t helped by Terry Byfield’s interviewing technique which mainly consists of making statements to prompt a response along obviously club-approved lines. While he is only doing his job (and he has been an excellent servant for Palace) this approach becomes stultifying.

All the video clips are in Windows Media format and could be downloaded and played on Windows or a Mac until a few weeks ago. Since then DRM has been implemented. This stands for ‘digital rights management’ and determines what you can do with the video clips. Or what you can’t do with the clips is probably more accurate. As of now you cannot use a Mac to watch the video, use any browser other than Internet Explorer to watch the video, or burn the video to a DVD and watch them on TV. The reason for this, according to the site, is “we have to take every effort to protect the content from piracy”. That’s obviously the rampant piracy which has Terry Byfield’s hard-hitting interview with Danny Butterfield about the Hull game spreading far and wide across all the file-sharing networks as you read this. It’s also no doubt the same rampant piracy which has all those dodgy DVD makers in the back streets of China just waiting to release the entire 157 seconds of Palace against Wednesday to a market of billions. It should be mentioned that by the time the game highlights are made available on Palace World the goals have already been shown numerous times on television so we’re not dealing with unique content here.

The irony is that protecting the video from piracy doesn’t work. There is software available which can strip the DRM. This means that anyone who was previously pirating the video is now simply using that software before continuing to do exactly the same as they did before. All that is happening is that law-abiding users have been punished while those previously breaking the law continue to do so. The growing number of Mac users – who have already paid in advance for the service – have now had a major section of it removed. While this is legal under Premium TV’s terms & conditions it is very anti-consumer. A number of Palace fans have written to Palace World about this issue but, as of the time of writing this article, none have received a response after a number of weeks. The Palace World site states “We endeavour to answer all queries within 24 hours of receiving them”.

Up until a couple of weeks ago I would have still recommended subscribing to all the content of Palace World. Due to the implementation of DRM I can no longer do so. All subscribers are now treated as potential criminals first, as sources of revenue for gambling sites second and as valued customers a long way back in third place. The radio commentary option is worth purchasing but that can still be obtained for free if you know where to look. While Premium TV , abetted by CPFC, continues with its anti-consumer attitude I wouldn’t recommend people subscribing to the full package.

Ten ways to improve the Palace site:

• Change the layout. A cluttered site looks amateurish. Good web designers are not that expensive these days.

• Fan content goes first. Make the bits of the site the fans are interested in – news and tickets - the most obvious part of the screen.
• Make the advertisements less annoying. It works for Google. Give the paying subscribers the option of turning off the advertisements.

• Use cookies to remember account information. Every day you go into the site you need to enter an ID and password. All other sites can do cookies. Did I mentioned that good web designers are not that expensive these days?

• Make the online booking available for every game. It is a great way to get the casual fan in. Tickets can be automatically emailed and printed at home which takes pressure off box office staff (Ticketek uses such a system in Australia).

• Implement an RSS feed. Really Simple Syndication allows people to become notified about new items on the web site very quickly which means they will get their news there rather than from other sources.

• Drop the DRM. It doesn’t stop the pirates and it just pisses off honest customers.

• Stop putting ‘live’ commentary on the highlights after the game. It sounds stupid and obviously fake. Put the commentary on using the past tense, like proper football programmes do.

• Make sampler content free for download. A radio call of home matches available a fortnight after the game will allow potential customers to hear what the full service offers.

• Reduce merchandise delivery costs. Packages should be tariffed on weight and size, not cost. Palace Echo manages to do it far more cheaply

Apart from the online booking system the above has minimal cost (a fragment of what was paid for Selhurst Park) and would mean people would use the official site more often. Implementing the ten points would also show that we were to be treated as fans and valued customers rather than mere ongoing revenue streams.

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Time Zero

November 29, 2005 – 11:52 am

A piece on the state of football in Australia written just after the World Cup qualifier against Uruguay in 2005. It appeared in ‘Palace Echo’ with the note that the word “wog” as used in Australia is a mild pejorative which relates to southern European immigrants. It has a very different meaning in the UK which initially caused my editor some problems.

There’s only one thing worse than travelling to some obscure corner of Britain and sitting in the freezing rain watching Palace collapse in yet another performance which gives new meaning to the words ‘disinterested’ and ‘dire’. And that’s not being able to do so.

Three years ago I gave up my twelve month British adventure (which somehow turned into six years) and returned to Sydney. That’s the home of sun, beaches, friendly people and crap football. OK, the first three differed from what I got in South London but the crap football here was not of the same type Palace dished up. The national league could be described as Conference standard if you were kind. All the best players headed overseas as soon as possible to play for the top clubs (and Palace). The ‘soccer’ code came well behind the three other football codes – Aussie Rules, rugby league and rugby union - and was regarded as the province of sheilas, wogs and poofters*.

Football in Australia was maintained by the massive immigrant population who, as all first generation immigrants do, gathered around their own kind as a form of security blanket. Football was not only their game but also their means of maintaining social gatherings. Perfectly understandable to those who only ever see certain people at ‘The Cherries’ but anathema to the general population. As a result of this football clubs grew around ethnic groups and, due to the same tribal allegiances manifested all over the world, this led to violence between supporters and a marked disinterest in the sport from the media – unless there was a punch-up going on, of course.

Yet football still remained the biggest junior participation sport in the country. It just couldn’t translate that to getting a decent domestic league. Across all cities and towns there was a mass of football shirts being worn; not only British teams but a massive variety of those from all across Europe and South America. The global game was here but it was waiting for decent organisation. And finally - many, many years late – it arrived.

In the last few months the A-League has been birthed, Australia has moved into Asia and there’s this little thing called Germany 2006. More on that later. For now it was my first visit to an A-League game. New clubs had been created on a per city basis. No longer was it Sydney Croatia or Sydney Marconi it was just Sydney FC – the split along ethnic groups was rent asunder by a new management who had realised it was their last chance to make it a truly national sport. So how would it survive in a country which valued sporting success?

I’d arranged to go with Julian and Renee – fellow Palace tragics – to see Sydney against the NZ Knights. We met at a local pub which seemed exactly like ‘The Alliance’ except that it had room. A few beers and then off to the stadium. A few years ago it was one of the biggest in the city and then the Olympics happened. As a result the 40,000 capacity seemed a bit small although the crowd of 10,000 didn’t really make a dent in that. Now 10,000 may seem small for a Friday night crowd but that eclipses a few Championship attendances. I’ve been in smaller ones for Palace at home. There’s a few things I learned from that game: the standard of the domestic game is fast improving, there’s a reason Dwight Yorke no longer plays in the Premiership and there’s a huge range of people who watch the game.

Three years ago the domestic game was Conference standard and now it’s League One. That means there’s some very good stuff played with some brilliance at times. As with most teams not at the top level it’s consistency that lets it down but as with the lower leagues it’s generally entertaining. The ball is moved at a frenetic pace and while techniques are still developing they are showing rapid improvement. The game ends 2-0 to Sydney although it should have been at least 5-0. Another Sydney-based Palace mate (whose only game – indeed only three days ever out of the country – was to see the 2004 play-off final) is not happy as he’d bet on a more than two goal victory. That Dwight Yorke missed three one-on-ones with the keeper (is he Dougie in disguise?) only rubbed salt into the wounds. Apparently Yorke is scoring all over the country – just not on the pitch…

The one thing I noticed about the crowd was how happy and varied it was. The hardcore stood up behind the goal for the entire match. The stewards made no move towards them; they weren’t causing any trouble so why start a situation? It was a weird concept to grasp after being at games in England. Apart from being able to drink alcohol in your seat while watching the game there was also the novelty of seeing the huge range of people watching the game. Pensioners, three year-olds with their parents, teenage males, older couples and a vast number of young single women. The latter seems so rare in England yet has already made up a significant part of the crowd over here. Football truly is the game which cuts across all of society.

A few weeks later it was off to the stadium which was host to the iconic event of the 2000 Olympics for all Australians – Cathy Freeman’s gold medal in the 400 metres (it was also the place where some bloke called Wilkinson kicked some drop goal in 2003 but this isn’t a rugby magazine so we’ll ignore that for now). The Socceroos (what are we going to call them now that’s it’s known as ‘football’ down here?) were up against recent foes Uruguay. Due to the vagaries of the World Cup qualification process Australia had to play New Zealand and cannon-fodder for the right to play two games against a battle-hardened team from the most brutal of qualifying groups, South America. While it may seem an easy passage having only two important games every four years was not of any benefit to producing a cohesive team and the losses against Scotland, Argentina and Uruguay over the years, as well as the heartbreaking draws with Iran which so scarred a nation, produced a state of mind which made Victor Meldrew look positively happy in comparison. That the Iran tie in 1997 was drawn thanks to some bewildering substitutions by the coach – Terry Venables – meant that the Aussie Palace contingent has even more reason to loath the man who comes with the recommendation that if you ever shake hands with him then count your fingers afterwards.

Thanks to a mixture of mates and eBay and the godawful Ticketek web site I ended up with a couple of spare tickets. These were quickly snapped up by Manfred and Sam. Manfred was a German via South Africa who had recently become an Aussie citizen and had decided far too late that he’d like to see the game. Sam was a nineteen year-old student from Thailand who had recently appeared on the BBS having moved across from a tennis forum to learn a bit more about betting (I am not making this up). Manfred’s daughter didn’t want to attend so Sam said he’d easily pass for under-16 and would take the child ticket. I’d arranged to meet everyone at the stadium but at the train station I heard a German accented person talking to an Asian guy. Turns out I had found Manfred and Sam. We then waited (and waited) for Julian to turn up and we hit the pub. Interestingly no-one asked Sam for ID at the pub and waved him through the gate on the child ticket.

It was only half-full when we got there but five hours before kick-off that wasn’t surprising. Two hours later it was rammed so we went outside. It was even more rammed. Flares (not the trousers type), lots of chants, footballs being kicked around, a band doing all the classics from Men At Work, Cold Chisel and Powderfinger, and TV cameras all mixed into an expectant and happy atmosphere. Nearby someone walked through the crowd draped in a Uruguayan flag. A chorus of good-natured booing sprang up which turned to laughter as the bloke held up a sign saying “I lost a bet about who would win the rugby league grand final”. All too soon it had become 7:30pm and everyone, from Aboriginal to Zimbabwean backgrounds, joined the green and gold mass heading for the ground.

To get up to my seat I declined the offer from Sherpa Tenzig and set off up one of the many corkscrew ramps at the side of the stadium. What a wonderful method, far safer than steps (wheelchair friendly as well) and less of an effort to climb. It turned out I was in the very top row but running into a group of kids sitting in my seat they politely asked if I would mind swapping with them since they wanted to sit together. Since their seat was slightly closer to the pitch I accepted and found myself next to their parents. They had driven from Adelaide (two days drive) and one of their sons (who was up the back) was midway through his final year exams so he had flown to Sydney the previous day, studied all that time, was attending the game and was flying back the following morning to get to his next exam the day after. Now that’s a supporter.

The teams came out to a massive roar from the 82,000+ crowd and then the national anthems started. I’m not keen on them because (a) they are generally really crap tunes and even worse lyrically (go on, name me any other song which contains the word “girt”) and (b) they are only used to promote some sort of faux nationalism. But what happened next was unprecedented – the Uruguayan anthem was booed – heavily. The more they turned up the volume the louder the crowd booed. That this happens may seem somewhat surprising to readers since it occurs so frequently at England games but it had never happened in Australia before. At any sport I can think of. Most countries love touring Australia because they get a good reception from the crowd who applaud good sportsmen whoever they play for – and there’s always a few ex-pats in there as well. However, the similar treatment dealt out to the Australians in the first leg in Montevideo had been well reported. Add in some media hype and thirty-two years of hurt since they had last qualified and the crowd was out to make its mark. It will hopefully be the only time it will ever happen but it certainly made its point with a few of the Uruguayan players looking a bit shaken by the sheer intensity of the crowd.

Despite that they were by far the better team for the first half hour and should have put the tie beyond reach when Recoba latched onto a long ball and shot wide when it was easier to score. Soon afterwards Popovic was subbed almost immediately after being booked for running across Recoba with his arm up and ‘accidentally’ smacking him in the face with his elbow. In most cases it would have been a deserved red card but given that Cahill had minutes earlier received a hand in the face which was waved away by the referee there appeared to be a high degree of leniency. The Uruguayans attempting to slow down the game, giving Oscar-winning performances in play-acting and basically being a mix of the worst parts of Sheffield United and Bolton also seemed to be testing the referee’s patience. Within two minutes of coming on Kewell had jinked into the area and made a horrendous miskick which just happened to land in the right spot for Bresciano to blast home. The exultant roar from the crowd was unbelievable. Three decades of missed opportunities and dashed hopes escaped in that fleeting moment. A seething mass of green and gold rippled joyously through the crowd. The tie was level. It may well end in agony again but sod it; we celebrate the good times and deal with the bad ones when they happen.

Half-time arrived with a trip to the toilets – the only time ever where there’s a queue for the gents. “Hurry up, guys”, someone called from the back, “more than two shakes and it’s a wank”. Forty-five minutes away from possible World Cup glory and the thoughts become more about what can be lost than what can be won. Bloody hell, I’ve obviously been watching Palace too long which has produced that mindset. We’re 1-0 up, getting on top and John Safran has removed the curse put on the national team by a Mozambique witchdoctor in 1970. Nothing can stop us. Except a Uruguayan goal which would mean we’d need another two. I go to the football for fun. If I say it often enough I may eventually believe it.

The second half became a tense time with Australia pressing and Uruguay playing on the counter. The crowd stayed loud and proud and gave a special send off for “Uruguay have a divine right to be at the World Cup” Recoba (that would be because they finished fifth in the South American group?) when he was subbed. Two free headers in the box for the away team should have seen them score but Schwarzer wasn’t required to make any save of note in the second half or during extra time. Australia had a few chances and I thought one was in on 114 minutes when Viduka volleyed a cross but a perfectly placed defender’s foot blocked it.

So it came to penalties and you could feel the crowd wondering if this was yet another way to fail to qualify. Yet Kewell scored and when I saw Uruguay’s first penalty taker stutter in his run up I just knew it would be saved. Taking a note from the way Nico Vaesen stayed upright in the shootout against Sunderland, Schwarzer held his ground and moved after the ball was struck, palming it away. It was a weird feeling watching the next four all go in. I was at the nerve-shredding shootout against Tranmere back in 2000 but I felt a lot calmer here (even though there was far more at stake), not as nervous yet with a thrill coursing through me that bordered on the sexual. These are the moments for which we go to football; the collective gathering, the shared electricity, the anxious pause as fate tosses its coin. The man who had played a captain’s role in the two games, Viduka, stepped up to the ball. A nation held it’s breath and then exhaled as he shot to ask “how the hell did he put that wide?”. Uruguay had to score to level it but Schwarzer pulled off a magnificent save which brought an even bigger cheer than the goal. 3-2 ahead after four penalties each.

We need Aloisi to score… Aloisi must score… even someone like Aloisi must be able to score… it’s only twelve yards for god’s sake… we’ve lost on away goals before so we can’t lose on penalties now… John Safran’s lifted the curse… there’s 82,000 here so we can’t lose… we were in Germany last time as well… do it for Johnny Warren… it’s thirty years of hurt… it’s only twelve yards… it’s the World Cup… Aloisi must score…

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssssssssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, screamed out Craig Foster in the commentary box as Aloisi stuck to the script. Stockport in 2001 was nothing compared to the joy and relief that erupted as the ball went in. The crowd went joyously ballistic as the players raced around the ground. I discovered the one downside of allowing beer in the ground as those behind threw their arms into the air. The cups stayed in their hands, the beer went up then down again and all over me. As if I was going to complain. We cheered, we laughed, we shed some tears of joy, we sang ‘Down Under’ and we celebrated. Forget cricket, forget rugby, forget AFL because football was now the national sport. We celebrated some more. Those outside celebrated. Those in the city celebrated all down the main street. And on the next day when the police reported there had been no trouble or arrests we celebrated some more. A hastily arranged gathering for the team in one of the main parks brought a crowd of many thousands one of whom put it to Popovic that “Recoba had no divine right to stick his face into your elbow”. The Palace man smiled.

Australia will go into the Asian qualifying group next year which means playing against consistently better opposition. There is also the Asian Cup every four years. Guus Hiddink is contracted as coach through to the World Cup and the domestic league is slowly gaining credibility with the mainstream. The timer has long been counting down on Australian football but the world game finally arrived before it hit zero. The future awaits.

* ‘Sheilas, Wogs and Poofters’ is the title of Johnny Warren’s autobiography which is also a history of football in this country. He was the captain of the only previous Australian team to make the World Cup finals in 1974 (which consisted mainly of part-time players) and he along with SBS (a predominantly foreign language TV channel) were responsible for keeping football alive in this country. He was claimed by cancer in 2004, a year before seeing the event for which he had fought so long and hard.

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The Night Before Cardiff

February 3, 2005 – 10:13 pm

Written about Palace’s play-off final game against West Ham in 2004, it appeared in the one-off resurrection issue of ‘Eagle Eye’.  Clement Clarke Moore provided some input.

‘Twas the night before Cardiff, when all through the club

Not a person was stirring, they were all at the pub; 

The scarves were hung by the chimney while pints were quaffed, 

In hopes that they would soon be held triumphantly aloft; 

The supporters were nestled all snug in their beds, 

While visions of the Premiership danced in their heads;

And the missus in her away strip, and I in my home,

Had just settled down for a bit of hide the bone,

When out in the stadium there arose such a clatter, 

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. 

Away to the window I flew like a flash, 

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. 

The moon on the breast of the new Main Stand roof 

Allowed me to see and verify with proof, 

When, what to my wondering eyes should come from the haze, 

But a team bus, and eleven focused players, 

With a hulk of a driver, so loquacious and, zowieee!!!, 

I knew in a moment it must be St. Dowie. 

As rapid as Eagles his disciples they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; 

“Now, Danny! now, Shipps! now, AJ and Tony! 

On, Nico! on Hughesie!, on, Wayne and Aki! 

To the edge of the area! Form that wall! 

Hold the line! Hoof it! Clear away the ball!” 

As that song goes about bubbles that fly, 

Where like hopes they fade as they reach the sky, 

So up to the house-top the players they flew, 

With the bus full of dreams, and St. Iain too. 

And then, in a twinkling, I heard the roof thud

The clatter and thump of each player’s stud. 

As I kissed the club crest, and was turning around, 

Down the chimney St. Iain came with a bound. 

He was dressed all in Palace gear, accepting the cheers,

And his clothes were all tarnished with blood, sweat and tears; 

A bundle of promises he held in his hand, 

Saying heading for the Premiership – the promised land. 

His eyes — how they twinkled! his gurning how merry! 

He had a replacement for Julian, he was going to play Derry! 

His crooked smile mouth was making a sound, 

He was saying it was time for one more round; 

The ghost of Sunderland’s hopes he held so tightly, 

Thanks mainly to that penalty miss from Jeff Whitely; 

He had an interesting face and a mind of steel, 

That ensnared the opposition and made me feel,

That anything was possible and he calmed my fears, 

And lifted the gloom of following Palace for years; 

A gruelling training schedule and a good choice of sub, 

Soon gave me the belief that were going up; 

He spoke of Harbin and Symons as he went about his work, 

Writing his programme notes; then turned with a jerk, 

And raising his hand he gave me the clenched fist, 

And I swear this is true (even though I was pissed); 

He sprang to his bus, and his team all piled on,

And away to Cardiff they all flew with the hopes of South London. 

But I heard him exclaim, as he left the facility, 

“We’ll do them tomorrow with bouncebackability.”

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