Goodbye to the Speaker

I was in the Chamber today for the Speaker's statement, and the tributes to him on his retirement. I thought Gordon's speech was very moving. The less said about Nick Clegg's the better. Obviously it would have been insincere of him to have paid a glowing tribute, seeing as he'd called for Michael Martin to go, and he acknowledged that, but I would have thought he could have managed more than two minutes (most of which was a party political broadcast for the Liberal Democrats). Cameron was smooth and shallow, and managed to fill the time without really saying anything. But Gordon was very good, talking with genuine feeling about how Michael Martin had risen from humble origins and, against the odds, achieved high office. (Clegg tried to suggest the Speaker and Ming Campbell came from almost the same place; geographically maybe, but not in any other sense).

I was sitting very near the Speaker, and he was obviously deeply moved by what Gordon said, to the extent that it was a relief when Gordon made a joke about other MPs being asked to roadtest the Speaker's branded whiskey (he's teetotal). He looked considerably steelier during Cameron and Clegg's 'tributes'. I think I'm right in saying that - by sheer coincidence I'm sure! - not a single Tory backbencher who was not on the order paper was called at PMQs today. Only Cameron, Lee Scott (who Cameron allegedly refers to as his 'bit of rough') and John Randall - aka the only Tory with a bushy beard - got to speak. And the Speaker may have allowed himself a little flicker of schadenfreude when Cameron not only gave us an open goal but virtually ran out of the goalmouth shouting 'here it is, shoot!' (That is, his admission it's a Europe-wide recession, although actually it's global).

Speaking of football, I was at the Labour gala dinner at Chelsea FC on Thursday night. Apart from stalking Jimmy Choo (very small and wearing rather disappointingly ordinary black brogues although I'm not sure quite what I expected) and chatting to Hattie, aka Holly from Red Dwarf (very nice, rather shy), I also got into conversation with someone called Scott Minto who I now know is quite a famous ex-footballer. Eddie Izzard gave an entertaining after-dinner speech, during which he announced his intention to run for King of China in fifteen years time.

During pre-dinner drinks someone had thoughtfully laid on a few footballs so that we could have a kick around on the pitch. I managed one goal, but that was before the goalie arrived. Still, in 4" heels, it was quite an achievement; unfortunately Mr Choo missed it. Then the lads arrived: Douglas, Hilary and Andy taking shots and David Miliband performing surprisingly well in goal. Eventually I had to march onto the pitch and threaten to take their ball away unless they came in for dinner. And they obeyed! Oh, the power of being a whip.

Football's coming home

So what do people think about the idea of having a GB football team for the 2012 Olympics? An SNP MP, Pete Wishart, almost exploded with fury at the idea in the Commons the other day.

At the risk of being accused of not understanding the fierce tribal passions aroused by football (I do, my father lived in the UK for fifty years but still phoned me up from Ireland to gloat when Germany knocked England out on penalties; I was not impressed), can I say that I think we ought to have a GB national team all the time? Because then we might win something?

Memories can't wait

Have been challenged by Tom Harris to participate in a chain blog thing instigated by Iain Dale, where I have to recall where I was, what I was doing and how I felt at certain key moments in history. So here goes...

Princess Diana's death - 31 August 1997

Was still in bed, early-ish on a Sunday morning, (well, early for a Sunday) when the phone rang, Jonny Boy answered it - and then came in to tell me the news. We spent the rest of the day watching the television, like virtually everyone else, and being slightly embarrassed by the fact that we were so interested.

Margaret Thatcher's resignation - 22 November 1990

I would have been at law college at the time. But... if I'm honest, I really can't remember when or how I heard, which is a bit bizarre. I assume we celebrated, but I think it all felt like a bit of an anti-climax. I'd rather have seen her lose an election.

Attack on the twin towers - 11 September 2001

I was at the TUC conference in Brighton, in the visitors' gallery waiting for Tony Blair's speech. There'd been a fair bit of pre-publicity about how he was going to be given a hard time by the union delegates, with staged walk-outs and organised heckling, so the atmosphere was tense. Then the Chair, Bill Morris, announced that two planes had crashed into the Twin Towers. A few minutes later, Blair came in, said a few words - which was when we realised it was a suspected terrorist attack - and headed back to London. The conference was called-off, we headed out to the foyer where we watched repeat clips of the planes flying into the towers, and then a bunch of us ended up in Phil from Tribune's hotel room, watching the news coverage. I remember copious amounts of Jack Daniels being consumed by some people in the room, and the rumour that more than 50 planes were missing. Everyone was stunned, and some people were in tears.

England's World Cup Semi Final v Germany in - 4 July 1990

Watching it with a bunch of mates, because that's what we always do. I think this one was round my house, which would have put me in charge of keeping the supplies of veggie sausage rolls, potato wedges, Pringles, tortilla chips, chilli dips and other nutritious food coming. The lads - Dan, Ray, Bronek - would have been abusing the England players, especially Chris Waddle; I would have been telling them off for not cheering 'our boys' on (and also suggesting that Chris Waddle was perhaps a slighter better player than any of them); and Jonny Boy would have been pretending he knew something about football. Oh, and this was New Order's year, wasn't it - so I may have been doing my notorious version of the John Barnes rap.... 'You've got to hold and give but do it at the right time, you can be slow or fast but you must get to the line...' Yes, I know all the words.

President Kennedy's Assassination - 22 November 1963

I wasn't born.

I now have the task of nominating five other people to do the same. So - I nominate:

Hopi Sen

Mrs Blogs blogs

The Bristol Blogger

Fair Deal Phil

Paul Flynn MP

Over to you folks!