Off The Courier Mail:
But The Sunday Telegraph understands Alley is unlikely to be charged with any offence.
Buckets and Spades owner Zlata Relin said the store had spoken to Alley’s lawyers, who had promised to send a cheque for the cost of the items.
Ms Relin said she had asked police not to charge the mother-of-two. “We don’t want any publicity and if she goes to court this will go on and on,” Ms Relin said.
Matt Targett and Eamon Sullivan doing some kind of semi-dryland or shallow water training in the Manchester Aquatics Centre :-P See FoxSports
Straight facts on our favorite superhero, courtesy of Southern Fried Science, for instance on how Aquaman couldn’t survive the temperature even in the hottest ocean because he is way too thin:
Aquaman is not just a human, he is an incredibly buff human. Look at his picture. If the man has more than 2% body fat, I’d be shocked. In contrast, warm-water bottlenose dolphins have at least 18 to 20% body fat. Anyone who SCUBA dives knows that, even with a 12 millimeter neoprene wet suit, after a few hours in 80°F water, you get cold. Aquaman, lacking any visible insulation, should have slipped into hypothermia sometime early in More Fun Comics #73. He is better built for the beach than the frigid deep.
Via Neatorama
Image courtesy of Corey Bond, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
Hungarian spectators at the Debrecen 2012 European Swimming Championships applauding Boglárka Kapas and Éva Risztov for their gold and bronze medals in the women’s 800 freestyle (see result list here). According to Google Translate this means “Well done girls” or “beautiful girls” in Hungarian, in this case both answers most certainly apply :-)
Russian title says ‘Gooooooooooool!’ :-)
Sweet, via Buzzfeed
Recently voted the most awesome (male) body in sports and the hottest summer body of 2012, it just takes healthy food habits and a whole lot of training and then some, to get a body like Ryan’s. Read The Telegraph.
Tough read here on the Los Angeles Times:
And every swim meet in Mexico was laden with disaster, contrary to the orderliness I had grown up with in the United States. At one meet, I discovered, a referee had been paid to disqualify me; at another, the pool was the color of mud, and we had to train in shark-infested ocean waters until it was cleaned. When I broke a national record, the swimming administrators wouldn’t acknowledge it.
The last time I swam for Mexico was at the 1991 Pan American Games in Cuba, a year before the Barcelona Games. I had trained that summer with the University of Texas women’s team — at the time, the No. 1 U.S. college swim program. It was grueling; I had pushed myself harder than ever. But when I landed in Cuba, my Mexican coach pulled me aside. The Mexican Swimming Federation had “forgotten” to enroll me in my races. I would swim in only a couple of relays and one individual event.
I don’t remember if I cried. I do remember shutting down. Swimming, the Pan Am Games, the Olympics down the road — nothing mattered anymore. I was done. The bureaucracy, and always feeling like a stranger among my Mexican teammates, did me in. I quit swimming.
