There’s a nice saying in Irish –“tosnu maith leath na hoibre”, which basically means “a good start is half the labour”. Every writer knows that in his/her bones: if you can figure out how to start a piece, then you’re half-way there.

I thought of this today when reading Steve Shapin’s lovely opening to his London Review of Books review of Don’t You Have Time to Think?: The Letters of Richard Feynman. Here it is:

Should you win the Nobel Prize in physics, a lot of people will get in touch. Some of them will be former students (wishing you well); some will be colleagues (saying they wish you well). Presidents and prime ministers, who have no clue what it is you’ve done, will write, expressing the nation’s gratitude for whatever it is you’ve done. Childhood friends will write, saying they knew that nerdiness presaged Nobelity. Old schoolteachers will write, basking in reflected glory and taking their share of credit. The in-laws will write, implicitly retracting their former low opinion of their child’s choice. From all over the world complete strangers will write, requesting photographs and autographs and asking for validation of a totally original unified field theory that somehow escaped Einstein’s attention. Fathers of miserably lonely adolescent geeks will write, wondering whether it will turn out all right. And so too will the adolescent geeks themselves, asking what you were like at their age and whether you think they’ve got a genuine vocation for science…

Nice, isn’t it?

Woody Allen, on The Nietsche Diet Book…

No philosopher came close to solving the problem of guilt and weight until Descartes divided mind and body in two, so that the body could gorge itself while the mind thought, Who cares, it’s not me. The great question of philosophy remains: If life is meaningless, what can be done about alphabet soup? It was Leibniz who first said that fat consisted of monads. Leibniz dieted and exercised but never did get rid of his monads—at least, not the ones that adhered to his thighs. Spinoza, on the other hand, dined sparingly because he believed that God existed in everything and it’s intimidating to wolf down a knish if you think you’re ladling mustard onto the First Cause of All Things…

Lovely column by Richard Williams. Sample:

In the aftermath of a punishing defeat, no man should be called to account for his impromptu remarks. But when Frank Lampard said on Saturday night that England had “deserved” to win the match in which defeat had just eliminated them from the World Cup, he was inadvertently exposing the problem at the heart of the team’s consistent inability to scale the highest peaks.

David Beckham had used the same word earlier in the campaign. England would get to the World Cup final, the captain said, because they “deserved” to be there. Since no deeper analysis was forthcoming, his listeners were left to infer that the evidence in support of his contention might have included any or all of the following: England’s historic role as the game’s mother country; the vast popularity of the Premiership at home and abroad; the inflated pay and celebrity status of its players; and the attention lavished on the public appearances of their wives and girlfriends…

Williams has been consistently accurate and detached about the reality distortion field which surrounded the England team from the outset.

… leave nothing to chance. In fact they will stop at nothing. For example, they even used database technology to brief their goalie. You think I jest? Well, read this:

The full story of Lehmann’s preparation emerged yesterday. He won the 1997 Uefa Cup with Schalke against Internazionale after making a penalty save. His manager at Schalke was Huub Stevens, who is responsible for a personal database of 13,000 penalty kicks. Lehmann used this archive against Inter and, prior to the Argentina game, he telephoned Stevens.

The 36-year-old goalkeeper already had the benefit of the German FA’s database – they had copied Stevens’ approach – and having collated the information about who takes Argentina’s penalties and how they take them, Germany’s goalkeeping coach Andreas Kopke wrote it on a piece of paper ripped from a hotel notepad. On it was written details such as “[Julio] Cruz – stand tall, don’t move, dive right”.

For Argentina’s second penalty-taker, Roberto Ayala, it said: “Ayala – look at shooting foot, left low.” Sure enough, Ayala placed the ball low to Lehmann’s left and it was advantage Germany.

When Maxi Rodríguez walked up to strike the third, Lehmann knew it would be “hard, right”. He went the correct way and was unlucky not to make the save. But after Borowski had made it 4-2, Esteban Cambiasso had to score to keep Argentina in the tournament. Lehmann’s notes said: “Wait, stand tall, left corner.” He duly made an impressive stop to his left.

Honestly — databases! It’s just not cricket.

This is what a day looks like. An original — and oh so simple — idea. Thanks to Quentin for the link.