Monthly Archives: July 2026

Johnny and the King

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As a lifelong lover of football I’m glad to see and hear the back of the US Soccerbowl shenanigans and malarky.

It all started with a sick-making schmoozefest when Johnny Infant gave a shiny new toy he’d just created to the King of the Nation of Dumbfuckistan.

Bit parts were taken up by neighbours Mexico (who know the game) and Canada (who make a reasonable pretence). But it was centre stage for the self proclaimed centre of the universe to show what contempt for the rest of the world looks like.

A game of quarters was invented so that income generating ad breaks could take priority over a format that has been cherished by the rest of the world for more than 150 years.

Then Johnny brazenly bends the universal rules at the behest of King Fuckwit. A red card with automatic suspension is itself suspended for a year (whatever that means). A futile attempt to help the almost mediocre home nation. Justice is seen to be done when the home of the pissing boy statue (Belgium) obliges by doing just that to Dumbfuckistan.

All that was needed then, to complete the diabolical insult to the game we love, was an extension of the universally enshrined half-time to accommodate more Dumbfuckistanary.

Oh, we have that covered, chirped infantile Johnny. Another key definer of the beautiful game is bent and twisted to meet the ugly demands of ignorance in power.

But Juno, why boycott the beautiful game just because lipstick has been added to a pigs lips, I hear people say. Surely you’re depriving yourself of something you love, the crowd try to remind me.

Until we speak again, the personal challenge to boycott the American shitshow is successfully completed. No minutes watched throughout a whole World Cup. The first time since 1978 (when I just happened to be a student with no access to a TV). A tournament which by the way included Argentina in the final against a European team… somethings don’t change, except for the identity of the victors.

Over there in Barrytown

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“They do things very strange.” Or so the Steely Dan lyrics from the 1974 Pretzel Logic album suggest. My recent post Performative Pizza might be taken to imply a similar message. Or, how about creating a permanent light display in a short road tunnel, Why not? [Photo credit: Rachel Kinchin].

My childhood in Cardiff involved regular visits to Barry Island. After all, it was the local seaside place. Sandy beach, funfair, dubious Butlins Holiday Camp, strange beachside stone arcades with cheap versions of doric columns, soggy chips that even the seagulls shunned.

Why on earth would you bother stopping a mile or two short for the nondescript charmless Barry, or the boring pebble beach of Cold Knap? Then, as know-it-all teenagers we would conjure up our own versions of the reality implied by the Steely Dan lyrics.

Fast forward several decades: questionable development of some wisdom, maybe; or at least, valuable guidance from my new Barry correspondent. Suddenly, the strange things they do in Barry town are more than worthy of investigation.

Goodsheds includes a quirky line of shipping container like boxes arranged to resemble the carriages of an old steam train. Ironically, or maybe not, located close to the 1960’s graveyard for so many British steam engines. Now it’s a mix of interesting little independent shops and eateries. Quite unlike anywhere else, maybe [Photo credit: Yvette Clark].

Beneath the dockside apartments, at ground floor level art of a different kind. A range of pictures of shops and coffee places decorate empty retail premises. At least it gives a superficial impression of bustling business. Who said Barry was just a place of illusion?

One of the few that are open, in prime location looking down the length of the dock, is Craft Republic. A note to its craft ale origins, but as much a reference to a sense of the Independent Republic of Barry!

On the High Street, that isn’t a High Street as you’d recognise it today, a Craft Republic spin-off is MOR Wines – a wine shop that also functions in limited hours as a very good wine bar. This is a High Street of small local community premises that give this place a unique feel, most unlike standard High Street fayre of so many other places.

The local community feel of so much of contemporary Barry also opens its doors to international cuisine, in the form of the Usta Turkish Restaurant. This just happens to be a not-so-hidden gem at the point where Barry island or Cold Knap become an actual decision (but don’t tell anyone; we don’t want to have to book a table because of elevated demand!).

The Sucuk, Babaganoush, Lamb Shish & Mixed Shish are all done to a quality that makes you want to come back, just to be sure it really is as good as you first thought.

That Turkish red wine wasn’t bad either. But save some space for MOR, if it’s still open after your meal. They have a range of reds or whites by the glass to make you embrace the art of falling over later.

Until we speak again, they also do a good line in moonshots and sunsets over in Barry town, or more accurately, Cold Knap (sourced from my Barry correspondent):