​Juventus’ continued dominance of Serie A is in no small part due to the intimidating atmosphere created in its new Juventus (Allianz) Stadium. The cacophony the 41,000 Bianconeri fans generate here is in stark contrast to Juve’s previous home, the truly awful Stadio delle Alpi. I went there in 2003 and – like many others – am glad to see the back of it.
It’s one of those videos on YouTube of someone taking a video of events playing out on their TV. The camera work is shaky and the quality is grainy, making it somewhat alien to those of us brought up on silky smooth HD. Lines crack across the screen suggesting it is a re-run of some VCR tape recording. However, it is not some video sprung from the vault known as the ancient past, but rather from the more recallable time of 1997.
​Of all the injustices that the 1980s inflicted, perhaps the worst was reserved for Andrew Ridgeley. He may have been in one of the world’s most successful bands, but beneath the shoulder pads and hairspray the Wham star faced an inescapable reality. No matter how bouffant his hair, no matter how skilfully he slapped the guitar strung gamely around his waist, there was only one man getting all of the plaudits.
When the British East India Company returned from the Far East in the 1660s, they presented a strange plant called tea to King Charles II. His beautiful Portuguese bride quickly became fond of it for treating her colds. Some 20 years earlier, a merchant by the name of Peter Mundy noted it as “only herb boiled with a kind of herb boiled in it.”