I watched the madness known as the Pamplona bull-running this morning. Usual stuff. No deaths to thrill the crowds both there and in their sitting rooms. My guess is that this is because the bulls aren't told they're going to die that evening and so treat it all as a bit of a stroll downhill, in company with a few cows. They'd be a lot angrier, I'm sure, if they were told. And then we'd see some fireworks. Just a thought.
Still, there were a couple of gorings today. And one of them was of an American chap who'd co-authored a book on how to survive the event. Possibly should have re-read it.
The trial of those allegedly responsible for last year's Santiago train crash has left most observers very unsatisfied, especially the relatives of the 79 who died. Representatives of the implicated train and track companies refused to answer the questions of the investigating judge and the burden of guilt has fallen entirely on the the driver, who was distracted by a phone call. Relatives of the victims are considering their options, in the pursuit of justice. Hampered by government determination to ensure no one is convicted of corporate negligence. Or of anything, for that matter.
Well, who'd have thought that there could be a more humiliating exit from the World Cup than Spain's or England's? Will we ever see anything like it again? And is a colander more porous than Brazil's (alleged) defence? Here's a brutal German view of the match.
Finally . . . I wondered where I'd seen Germany's red and black kit. And then a columnist told us. Dennis the Menace.