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It wasn't until a few days beforehand that my business trip to Monterrey, Mexico, was finalised. I remember sitting at my desk looking at the flight time and wincing slightly at how long the journey was compared to the time I was spending there. But it wasn't all bad.

London to Mexico is a long way and apparently not a journey that can be conducted in a single flight. Most flights on this path stop over somewhere in Texas and it can be either Houston or Dallas depending on the airline. It so happened that I was to find myself spending a little over two hours at George Bush Intercontinental in Houston.

Texas is one of those places that everybody has an opinion on and I have to say I was no different. I love the concept of America and Americans but it seemed to be - sitting from the other side of the pond - that Texas was somewhat backwards. When I thought of Texas I'd think of guns, George (W.) Bush and religion. However, I was keen to experience it myself and although I only spent two hours in Texas (plus another two on the way back), this is what I remember.

The lady on the airport monorail
I sat down at the back of the carriage awaiting transit to my gate and a lady came on board wheeling a small travel suitcase. She stood just to the left of me and began speaking with another lady. She was evangelizing about a book she'd been reading called, 'How Starbucks Saved My Life'.

My ears pricked and I listened intently.

"You see, he'd gone from wearing $1,000 shoes to just being on the bus sitting next to people like you and me. I don't know if I'd even recognise $1,000 shoes! And he realised that it didn't matter at all - he was 50 and working in Starbucks just making coffee but that was his life and he enjoyed it. So he went from being around all that money and all that wealth to just earning $5/hour at Starbucks... and he loved it!"

She looked over at me and I joined the conversation as she talked about the differences between New York and Arkansas, where she was from. About how she could leave her front door unlocked and how things in New York are too busy and too dangerous. Although I've never been to New York, I was inclined to agree with her that it is strange how the quality of one's life diminishes the more one relies on material goods, like $1,000 shoes, for happiness and how difficult it is to really relax in a city like London when you're surrounded by people who are stressed and unhappy. She agreed and we walked a little together after the rail reached its destination.  I think I heard her talking to another couple just as she disappeared from sight down the long corridor.

Texas steak
The queue for passport control was fairly minimal when I arrived, which gave me the chance to quiz the passport control officer about where I could get a good lunch. I was eager to sample Texas' famous cuisine and my stomach was empty from the flight. He said, "Ahh you gona get yourself a big juicy steak or sumthing?" I said I'd love to and he smiled and informed me that a decent lunch will cost around $10, which given that we were in an airport I found very reasonable.

I spent a little while looking for a steak house but was disappointed not to find one straight away. I approached a BBQ stall and asked for a big Texan lunch. He asked where I was from and we talked a little about the food that was available and what it may all taste like. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough money for the full on 4-meat feast so I had to settle for beef stew in barbecue sauce and a bap. When he poured the meat over the bread, it soaked up the juice like a sponge.

Just behind me in the queue was a US Marine dressed in his combat gear. The BBQ man asked him where he was from and they talked as well. He was from Missouri. The BBQ man thanked him for serving for his country, passed him his food and said,

"God bless you, son. God bless you for serving." 

I was genuinely moved by how friendly this man was and found myself compelled to tell him so. He quite naturally found it strange that anyone should find his mannerisms particularly unusual. It seems that in Texas, people like to look out for one another.

I sat and ate my bap next to the Marine and wondered where he had been and what he had seen. The bun was saturated and was beginning to crumble in my hands so I found some cutlery. As I stood up, a man asked me whether the food was any good. He had been watching me eat for a couple of moments and I felt a little intruded upon. However, the marine and I both agreed that the food was really quite good and we recommended the beef stew in barbecue sauce. The man asked me where I was from and I told him, also adding that I was keen to have a Texan meal during my short two hour stay. He smiled and joined the queue. Afterwards I felt guilty for presuming that any interruption should be unwelcome and felt myself opening up a little.

Doughnuts
After my lunch I noticed a doughnut store and went over to take a look. They had more types of doughnut than I think I had ever seen and I made the error of asking the lady at the counter which was the best. She asked me where I was from and I told her, saying also that I had not eaten a doughnut for a very long time and that I wanted the best Texan doughnut money could buy. She handed me a jam-filled sugar-coated variety and I handed her 0.69c. I later returned to buy a very large chocolate chip cookie, not content with only one Texan treat. This was $2.50 worth of cookie but to be honest rather unsatisfying.

As I walked from the doughnut store down a long corridor to the gate, I noticed a sign saying 'defibrillator here' and a picture of a heart. Looking further down the corridor, towards the end I noticed another such sign. Half way between the two, a very overweight man was sitting on a bench talking on his phone. I saw him eyeing me from a distance and thought nothing of it until I passed him and noticed he wasn't staring at me, so much as he was staying at the cookie I was eating. I continued walking, past the second defibrillator sign and took a seat at a bar.

I waited for the barman to come over and I ordered a diet coke. He said it was cheaper to give me a pint from the tap instead of a bottle and I thanked him for telling me, asking for the pint.

Rain
I watched the planed on the runway through the large windows by the gate and wondered what the weather is like in this part of the world. From nowhere, my question was answered as the heavens seemed to open in an almighty downpour of rain that shocked me somewhat.

Outside, though, it was business as usual as workers quickly put on the correct attire and continued flagging and waving at taxiing aircraft. I looked away from the window at a TV screen that was showing a football game.

Football
It was Sunday, September 13th. Houston Texans were getting beaten quite heavily by the New York Jets and tempers were beginning to flare around the bar. Now wouldn't have been a good time to ask someone to explain the rules.

I tried to get into the game with the little time I had left but my viewing was constantly interrupted by advertisements, almost exclusively for SUVs. I chuckled to myself - this was the Texas I had pictured before I arrived. I gave the game a few more minutes but gave up when I realised that I was watching more advertisements than I was football.

I took one last look around the bar, at the football fans watching their side lose and being told to buy SUVs, to the barman making conversation with everyone that approached him, to the overweight guys struggling for breath, to the wide open sky and the clouds that had now disappeared, to the turkey and ham sandwich I had just bought, to the neon around the bar, to the potato chip bags, to the wet tarmack outside, to the smell and the feel of Texan air, to the gate and to the transit flight to Mexico.

This is what I remember of my two hours in Texas.

'Champions do not fall from the sky. They are born among us, live among us and are worshipped by us'

On the eve of October 30th 1974, in the Mai 20 Stadium in Kindshasa, Zaire, world Heavyweight Champion George Foreman against former Champion Muhammed Ali. After his refusal to obey his drafting for the US Army in a storm of political and racial significance, Ali had been spent over seven years forging his path to regaining a title he saw as rightfully his. Ali eventually met Foreman that wild night in 1974 and beat the man who had defeated him in the Fight of The Century three years earlier. The events before and during this famous bout are immortalised in the Academy Award winning documentary, When We Were Kings. Norman Mailer's book, The Fight, describes the events within the context of his views of black American culture. It was more than a boxing match, it was an event that defined an era.

On the afternoon of Sunday, June 7th 2009, Roger Federer will enter the Philippe Chatrier court at Roland Garros in Paris for the fourth consecutive year as a finalist in the hallmark claycourt event of the year - the French Open. It is the only one of the four tour majors Federer has never won, having lost on his four previous attempts to the same man - Rafeal Nadal. Victory will give Federer a career Grand Slam and tie him with Pete Sampras on 14 major wins. But with the coveted Coupe de Mousquetaires trophy that elluded the great American, he will surpass Sampras as, according to Andre Agassi, the Greatest tennis player to have graced the sport.

The significance of this victory, should it come, is not weighted in the political or social history of that October night in Zaire, but rather in an affirmation of a man - like Ali - who is widely considered to be a God of his sport. Greatness comes in many forms, but in individual sports like tennis, boxing or golf, the pressures - personal and professional - are so great that they can break even the most gifted. Now, after six years being at the top of the game, Federer is on the cusp of sporting immortality.

Illness at the start of the 2008 season, along with his recent loses to Rafael Nadal not only at Roland Garros but then at Wimbledon and Melbourne Park have revealed a certain frailty within Federer that had otherwise gone unnoticed. It is this frailty - this mortality - that reminds us that Roger Federer, although a global superstar, is human. Like every one of us, he has to overcome emotions like anxiety, fear and self-doubt in order to succeed. In Federer we see a man who has dedicated his life, his soul and his very being to his sport. In the process he has had to bear great suffering: breaking down in tears at the Australian Open final and having to stand and watch as Rafael Nadal lifted a Wimbledon trophy that would have seen him become the first man in history to win six consecutive titles at the All England Club.

This year's French Open has been an up-and-down tournament for Federer and his route to the final is arguably his hardest yet (incidentally, this will be his 19th - tying Ivan Lendl's record). Two of his last three matches have seen him pushed to the very edge of defeat, taken to five sets first by Tommy Haas in the fourth round and then in the semi-final by Juan Martin del Potro. In both matches there were times when Federer looked down and out, staring down the barrell of the gun with no response and no means of stopping what was coming; yet he prevailed. His path to the final demonstrated all the qualities of a Champion - a belief greater than the sum of his doubts and a determination more powerful than the strength of his body - qualities that he will need with him if he is to succeed tomorrow.

Standing in Federer's way is Robin Soderling, an apparent anomaly of the game. Thrust from obscurity, Soderling  has smashed all odds to shreds with victories over David Ferrer, four-time defending Champion Rafael Nadal and having come from 1-4 down in the fifth set to beat Fernando Gonzalez in the semi-final. Should Soderling continue this remarkable run and halt Federer on his quest for greatness there are many who feel he will be defying the very natural order of things - not just of sporting achievement but of human accomplishment, of reward for the deserved and of justice itself.

However, should Federer succeed in defeating his foe (as he has done in their nine previous meetings), he will prove once and for all that the greatest Champions are those who are humble in defeat and gracious in victory; like Ali before him he will prove that true Champions are those who pursue universal greatness when the world seems to be against them; he will prove that the Champion Elite are those who harvest, year after year and season after season, a burning hunger and passion in their hearts so deep and so bright that no man no matter how strong and no matter how fierce can ever extinguish their unfaltering goal: to be the best there has ever been.

Roger Federer, I wish you the very, very best of luck.

In transfering energy at will, one transfers the flaws associated with the energy from the source to the destination.

In throwing a rock, the rock is at the mercy of the thrower. Where there is a flaw with the thrower, so too that flaw will exist within the energy of the rock.

Murphy's Law is therefore a description of every act of will - the nature of things is that things go wrong. Where there are no things, there can be no wrong.

The question is - does the risk outweigh the reward?

Just got to thinking about why it is human beings have always fought and killed on behalf of principles we hold above our own personal existence Millions of men and women have died trying to protect themselves and protect others from harm.
 
Although it may seem it sometimes, our instincts are not geared towards destroying oppsition in a pseudo-Darwinian struggle to dominate each other, but rather we fight so that others will not have to. At the very core of our actions, I'd argue that in wars we kill and die not out of revenge or anger, but in a quest for peace.
 
It's as though there's an inevitable equilibrium that mankind will eventually reach, where the happiness of all comes from knowing that fighting will only be a regressive step backwards.
 
Lyndon