The United States of America has played a huge role in my sporting life. I coached there for seven years; in the US Virgin Islands and in Delray Beach, Florida. There were good times and bad. But the lasting impression was one of, what fun it was to coach some wonderful people. In the Virgin Islands, Fara, Ricki, Nicole and Annie. In Delray Beach Kirstie, Andrew, Doug, Tiffany, Skuba, Rhi, Ozzie, Jamie and John. And they were good swimmers; a world master’s record holder, Florida champions, national qualifiers, national representatives and before I got to Delray Beach Rhi was an Olympic Champion. Good people – all of them. Good times to. Remember when you guys went to Ft Lauderdale and beat all the big hot-shot clubs to win the State 4×100 medley relay championship. Remember the concern in Fara’s voice as she cautioned Annie to, “make good choices, Annie.” Remember the mountain of snow getting to the meet in Missouri. Remember Rhi’s leap and hug almost killing me after a good swim at Ft Lauderdale. Remember afternoons at Buck Island on Karen and Llewellyn’s boat. Remember you guys praying for another afternoon of Florida lightning. Remember Andrew taking down the superstar from up the road to win the Florida State High School title. Remember watching Rocky on Skuba’s parent’s boat and Skuba backing it up with a 50 second 100 meters freestyle. Remember Ozzie breaking two master’s world records. Remember, remember, remember. And it was American swimming that provided my daughter with a university education. The American university scholarship system has played a big role in lifting the standard of swimming in the United States. High school graduates are competing in a world market for scholarships. They are not awarded lightly, but for swimmers like Jane, it is a wonderful way to stay involved in swimming and receive a first class education. And so I have a lot to thank United States swimming for. But it is not just swimming. You see I spent my senior year in high school in Thorp, Wisconsin. Now that really was sporting fun. I was selected as the kicker, punts and field goals, for the school football team. Now I don’t care what sporting achievement you may have experienced. The pinnacle of fame is to be a starter on an American football team; Friday night, under lights, the band, the pep-rally, the cheerleaders, the team Lord’s Prayer before the game and the root beer, hamburgers and music in the takeaway bar after the game. No one, certainly not me, forgets their Homecoming Game, and it wasn’t even my home. And if, like me, you are lucky enough to kick a field goal at a fairly important moment in a close game the adulation knows no limits. And so you can imagine the affection I felt when I received the following email invitation. Thorp High School 50th Class Reunion, July 21st – 23rd 2017 And I am not going to go. Not because of money, or distance, or time, or travel. But as my small contribution to the resistance. For as long as that man is in charge of the White House I will not be visiting the United States. When I fly to England I will avoid the United States by going through Australia and Asia. I will miss the class reunion out of respect for the place the United States was and as a protest for what it has become. When the head of the house promotes grabbing women by the pussy, when he invites to his home Presidents who excuse soldiers who rape women as long as it’s not more than three at a time, when he snuggles up to autocratic monarchs and lectures the elected leaders of Germany, France and the United Kingdom, when he elbows world leaders out of the way to get his picture taken, when he is silent about heroes killed by a white supremacist, when he bans visitors because of their religion, when he shamelessly promotes the cult of himself and when he cuts medicine to a diabetic in order to spend millions playing golf in Florida – when he does all that I cannot lend legitimacy to his behaviour by visiting his place. As George Bush surprisingly and wonderfully put it, “some weird shit” deserves no better. And so I will stay away. I will not go to the class reunion. And I will hope that the good people I met in the United States can do something about the nightmare of their leader. In 1918, the First World War had just ended and the Prime Minister of Great Britain, Lloyd George, said he was going to make Britain a country fit for heroes to live in. My grandfather told me that Lloyd George got it slightly wrong. What he meant to say was, you had to be a hero to live there. That story pretty well sums up the United States right now. And one final thought – at Thorp High School we had a brilliant American History teacher. Mr. Fleming was his name. I have no doubt he would approve. I have no doubt he would join the resistance. And so have a good weekend. It would have been fun. But not just now, thank you.