I’m glad tycoon lost right-to-roam case

1:38pm Saturday 26th April 2008

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I COULDN'T help but smile when I heard that a millionaire tycoon had lost his right-to-roam battle this week.

After encountering some boisterous youths' - which I suspect may have been the children of some ramblers who were laughing at said tycoon - he barricaded his acreage off from the masses.

Now some people may disagree with the judge's decision, but personally I think he was spot on.

The right-to-roam is just that. It should not be "well you can't go on this bit because that laird isn't very keen on the plebs having a wander across his prime grouse land".

I hate the way large chunks of the UK are divvied up between a few mega-rich folk. Maybe it hails back to the Clearances (even though I'm a lowlander and my only foray into the Highlands started and ended with a trip to a whisky distillery in Speyside) when the Lairds kicked everyone out without any relocation budget whatsoever.

The hills and valleys, forests and moors should be there for all the people who want to enjoy it and yes, with that openness comes the responsibility to look after that land, which admittedly not everybody does (in come those bothersome, boisterous youths again).

Not that I do a lot of roaming here or in Scotland, but it's nice to know that should I find some land I want to tramp over I can do so without the risk of being shot, or having the hounds set on me.

WHILE nursing my numerous bruises from Kendo, a TV advert for kiddie Thai boxing caught my eye.

Not so much because of the sight of seven year olds armoured up to the hilt with gloves and gum shields, but because of the mums and dads screaming for blood as their precious wee ones knocked seven bells out of someone else's equally precious wee ones.

I'm all for discipline and I think martial arts can be fantastic for providing it, given the right circumstances, but I fail to see how propelling offspring into a ring and pushing them to inflict maximum damage on their three-and-a-half-foot opponent can possibly have a constructive effect on either party.

It's nice that wee Keira and Keifer have a hobby, but it must be a nightmare for mum to get the blood out of those specially made competition vests and shorts. Never mind the bruising, the missing teeth (especially if they've only had their adult teeth for a week), and the harsh fact of life that is defeat.

The kids will no doubt bounce back (possible literally) from the numerous clouts round the head, but I fear for the parents' mental state when they leave without the big trophy - because that is the only one that really counts, after all. All that training and mental psyching up wasted on a poxy silver medal. Imagine the shame down the estate.

However, down the other end of the scale are the child geniuses whose only experience of boxing is the verbal kind that most of us would find so baffling that we'd rather go five rounds with mini-Tyson.

Channel Four is following a group of these super-bright children from toddler to adult and after two episodes I've taken a dislike to most of them.

It's not that I find their intelligence irritating, more the fact that they seem to get away with an awful lot simply because they've got an IQ higher than their parents can count.

A lot of them seemed to treat their parents as equals or, even worse, inferiors, and the parents appeared to accept this without question.

Well, they might speak eight languages and have an intimate knowledge of theoretical particle physics, but they've got sod all life experience and understanding of the various relationships encountered in life.

Despite the fact that the subject matter of the two programmes couldn't have been more different, what struck me was the fact that these kids must be missing out on loads of typical childhood experiences.

Such as climbing trees - valuable lessons to be learned there according to a new report.

The immediate ones that spring to my mind are falling out hurts, don't try it in a skirt and sandals and if your mate falls it's ok to laugh unless after five minutes they've still not got up.

Tell you what, get the smart kid to work out the safest route up then send the super-fit kickboxing kid up first with a rope. Job's a good 'un.