From afar

I had mixed emotions watching the test between the French and the All Blacks at the weekend.

Lots of F words - flu, fanfare, Federer, Faumuina, franchises, France, football transfer fees and fumbling favourites - jumped out at me from the headlines this week.

Why is it that the Super 14 hasn't had me biting my nails until the last round of games?

I was recently interviewed about research that I did with Massey University colleagues about the quality and quantity of media coverage men and women gained during the Beijing Olympics last year.

Sometimes the language of sport borrows from the language of war and, as writer George Orwell once said, sport is war without bullets.

This week I've noticed that governance and management are ongoing issues with activities in which I've been involved.

While I was away my partner fell in love - with MySky, the ultimate remote toy for men.

Initially, I was a bit jealous but I think I'm falling in love with it, too.

It's true what they say: absence makes the heart grow fonder.

I've had enough haggis, whisky and castle tours to last me a lifetime and now I want to go home.

I feel isolated from New Zealand sport here in Scotland and get my fix by surfing the 'net to find out what is going on in the great little sporting nation that tends to box above its weight.

Crying, empathy, flowers, parental leave, dressing up, fun and frivolity, underdogs, black tie dinners, and winners.