This week in Birmingham is beginning to take its toll on him. On the basis that if he stayed in the flat he was likely to inflict further injury to the lovely Dennis (passim) he decided to go out with his good chum Gravy.
One of the partners at work had dragged him out at lunch for a quick couple of pints (of Timothy Talyor's Landlord - King of Beers) and so the afternoon rather dragged and indeed he managed to fall asleep in front of the TV before heading out on the pop.
Further Landlord and then some cider followed on a fine evening out before he eventually staggered back to the flat promptly passing out without smashing anything. Remarkable.
Tigger is sniffing around this afternoon threatening another session. His liver is running up the white flag.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Marmite madness
Having recovered from the debacle that was the day after the night before he managed to descend into the world of true incompetence last night.
He managed to burn not one, not two, nor even three but four slices of toast before managing to work out the toaster in the flat thereby filling it with a thick smoke (and setting off the smoke alarms).
Clearly a flat full of smoke is not necessarily the safest place and it becomes even less so when you drop a jar of marmite on the kitchen floor scattering shards of glass all over the shop. The lovely Dennis was not very impressed when she found herself digging marmite smeared shards of glass out of her feet.
He is not very popular today.
He managed to burn not one, not two, nor even three but four slices of toast before managing to work out the toaster in the flat thereby filling it with a thick smoke (and setting off the smoke alarms).
Clearly a flat full of smoke is not necessarily the safest place and it becomes even less so when you drop a jar of marmite on the kitchen floor scattering shards of glass all over the shop. The lovely Dennis was not very impressed when she found herself digging marmite smeared shards of glass out of her feet.
He is not very popular today.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
The trouble with Tigger
As previously mentioned he and the lovely Dennis are working and staying in Birmingham this week. That is dangerous as it exposes him to the risk of having to go out on the pop with Tigger.
In light of the tender state of his liver he could not afford to take that risk. In true total lack of willpower style he managed precisely no time at all before succumbing to Tigger’s wicked blandishments and was in Hotel du Vin on the bubbly before Tigger could say “fancy a quick one after work?”
The quick one was a mild euphemism and suffice to say 6 bottles later they were in a shocking state.
By shocking state we mean asleep on a sofa in the bar.
As mentioned the lovely Dennis is also in Birmingham which was a blessed relief as he could never have made his way back to the flat they are staying in under his own steam. Mind you the return to the flat just led to puking so whether that was a good thing is up for debate.
Now when they first got to Brum in the morning he just dumped his car (full of all their stuff) under the office and, foolishly believing Tigger’s promises that it would just be a quick one, he hadn’t bothered to unload the car before hitting the bar. Due to the ridiculously harsh drink driving laws (I mean how can it not be safe to drive after the thick end of a case of bubbly and a quick snooze?) of this country he couldn’t get the car (and therefore their stuff) from the office to the flat so upon waking this morning his options as to what to wear were somewhat limited.
As it turned out this was a bit of a blessing in disguise because as everyone who knows him knows he takes ages to choose what to wear of a morning (are we shure about this? – ed) and he didn’t wake up until 0830. So only having what he was wearing the day before to wear gave him his only chance to get into the office on time (wearing the same clothes as yesterday, un-shaven, un-showered and un-teeth brushed (are we shure this is a word? – ed), gosh he knows how to impress).
He was not at his most productive during the morning but went back to the flat at lunch-time to
wash, change and nap. It would be nice to report that improved his productivity. Nice certainly, true no.
In light of the tender state of his liver he could not afford to take that risk. In true total lack of willpower style he managed precisely no time at all before succumbing to Tigger’s wicked blandishments and was in Hotel du Vin on the bubbly before Tigger could say “fancy a quick one after work?”
The quick one was a mild euphemism and suffice to say 6 bottles later they were in a shocking state.
By shocking state we mean asleep on a sofa in the bar.
As mentioned the lovely Dennis is also in Birmingham which was a blessed relief as he could never have made his way back to the flat they are staying in under his own steam. Mind you the return to the flat just led to puking so whether that was a good thing is up for debate.
Now when they first got to Brum in the morning he just dumped his car (full of all their stuff) under the office and, foolishly believing Tigger’s promises that it would just be a quick one, he hadn’t bothered to unload the car before hitting the bar. Due to the ridiculously harsh drink driving laws (I mean how can it not be safe to drive after the thick end of a case of bubbly and a quick snooze?) of this country he couldn’t get the car (and therefore their stuff) from the office to the flat so upon waking this morning his options as to what to wear were somewhat limited.
As it turned out this was a bit of a blessing in disguise because as everyone who knows him knows he takes ages to choose what to wear of a morning (are we shure about this? – ed) and he didn’t wake up until 0830. So only having what he was wearing the day before to wear gave him his only chance to get into the office on time (wearing the same clothes as yesterday, un-shaven, un-showered and un-teeth brushed (are we shure this is a word? – ed), gosh he knows how to impress).
He was not at his most productive during the morning but went back to the flat at lunch-time to
wash, change and nap. It would be nice to report that improved his productivity. Nice certainly, true no.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Rugger Bugger
At last he has returned to the field of play with a run out on Saturday. Shockingly (to him at least) he was dropped to the bench and only got to play a half. The opposition (Broad Plain) are reknowned for being a side of larger players and it is fair to say they were putting down quite a large front row.
Now he has of course lost the thick end of 2 stone since last time he played and if there is one attribute that any prop needs it is a certain amount of, how can we put this delicately, ballast. It would be quite wrong of us to suggest he is now ballastless but there is perhaps a ballast shortage for a tight-head prop.
To make up for his lack of ballast he had to resort to more unusual (read illegal) scrummaging techniques and remarkably the referee appeared to know what he was doing and kept on pinging him for his unusual (read illegal) technique.
It has to be said that it didn't help his cause that the weather was scorching, he had a bead on just standing on the touch-line.
Your correspondent's favourite moment of the match was a try scored by his side straight from a re-start kick. He moved all of 5 yards during the move.
After such exertions he threw down a few cheeky beers before stumbling home kebab in hand.
Sunday was a classic of the type, a lie in followed by a lazy day reading the papers whilst eating chocolate hob-nobs dunked in tea whilst surrounded by chums.
This week he is stationed in Birmingham all week, Gay George (Not Actually Gay) is in town on Wednesday which may turn into a big one. We shall of course keep you posted.
Now he has of course lost the thick end of 2 stone since last time he played and if there is one attribute that any prop needs it is a certain amount of, how can we put this delicately, ballast. It would be quite wrong of us to suggest he is now ballastless but there is perhaps a ballast shortage for a tight-head prop.
To make up for his lack of ballast he had to resort to more unusual (read illegal) scrummaging techniques and remarkably the referee appeared to know what he was doing and kept on pinging him for his unusual (read illegal) technique.
It has to be said that it didn't help his cause that the weather was scorching, he had a bead on just standing on the touch-line.
Your correspondent's favourite moment of the match was a try scored by his side straight from a re-start kick. He moved all of 5 yards during the move.
After such exertions he threw down a few cheeky beers before stumbling home kebab in hand.
Sunday was a classic of the type, a lie in followed by a lazy day reading the papers whilst eating chocolate hob-nobs dunked in tea whilst surrounded by chums.
This week he is stationed in Birmingham all week, Gay George (Not Actually Gay) is in town on Wednesday which may turn into a big one. We shall of course keep you posted.
A Fine Figure of a Man
After a relatively quiet weekend he has resolved that the week should be somewhat less quiet. It kicked off on Monday night in Birmingham out on the pop with Gay George (Not Actually Gay) and the lovely Dennis.
Gay George (Not Actually Gay) and he kicked matters off with a quick bottle of wine each before Dennis turned up from work and so were in pretty shoddy order before the evening really got started. Matters did not get much better as the boys hurled the wine down whilst poor Dennis just tried to stop them from doing anything really bad.
She was aided in that task by our hero passing out at the dinner table. Notwithstanding this he managed to rouse himself sufficiently to join in the chorus of "Happy Birthday" on the table next door before plummetting back into the welcoming arms of Morpheus.
Now as we all know he is a fine figure of a man and never more so when slumped unconscious at a table dribbling (are we shure about this? - ed) and true to form one of the girls on the "Happy Birthday" table was so impressed with him that she tried to extract his room number from him. Fortunately for her he was so blotto he couldn't recall.
The original plan had been for this to be a quiet evening as Gay George (Not Actually Gay) had a presentation scheduled to deliver to his board at 1030 on Tuesday morning but fortunately that had been re-scheduled during the course of Monday to 1600.
With our hero awaking Tuesday morning in a shocking state it is impossible to adequately sum up his amusement when Gay George (Not Actually Gay) called to inform him that a) he was in a similarly poor state and b) he had just been told his presentation had been re-re-scheduled back to 1030. My how he laughed.
Somehow the pair survived the day before meeting up for a de-brief over some Mojitos post-work (and pre-drive home).
Today was enlivened by him snapping his glasses (again) before leaving the flat. As luck would have it he appears to have exactly the same prescription as Dennis so he is now wearing her spare glasses. They don't fit and aren't really very masculine so he looks a berk but at least he can see.
Gay George (Not Actually Gay) and he kicked matters off with a quick bottle of wine each before Dennis turned up from work and so were in pretty shoddy order before the evening really got started. Matters did not get much better as the boys hurled the wine down whilst poor Dennis just tried to stop them from doing anything really bad.
She was aided in that task by our hero passing out at the dinner table. Notwithstanding this he managed to rouse himself sufficiently to join in the chorus of "Happy Birthday" on the table next door before plummetting back into the welcoming arms of Morpheus.
Now as we all know he is a fine figure of a man and never more so when slumped unconscious at a table dribbling (are we shure about this? - ed) and true to form one of the girls on the "Happy Birthday" table was so impressed with him that she tried to extract his room number from him. Fortunately for her he was so blotto he couldn't recall.
The original plan had been for this to be a quiet evening as Gay George (Not Actually Gay) had a presentation scheduled to deliver to his board at 1030 on Tuesday morning but fortunately that had been re-scheduled during the course of Monday to 1600.
With our hero awaking Tuesday morning in a shocking state it is impossible to adequately sum up his amusement when Gay George (Not Actually Gay) called to inform him that a) he was in a similarly poor state and b) he had just been told his presentation had been re-re-scheduled back to 1030. My how he laughed.
Somehow the pair survived the day before meeting up for a de-brief over some Mojitos post-work (and pre-drive home).
Today was enlivened by him snapping his glasses (again) before leaving the flat. As luck would have it he appears to have exactly the same prescription as Dennis so he is now wearing her spare glasses. They don't fit and aren't really very masculine so he looks a berk but at least he can see.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Some Bed action
He's learnt his lesson about trusting the train network to get him anywhere on time for a drink so last night he got a boat.
Some might say this is not the most efficient means of quick transport but when it has a bar and is loaded with a few chums he reports that it is not a bad means of getting to the destination (a pub in Hanham).
In fact so enamoured was he of the boat that he took it back to town as well.
His trip back was enlivened by a number of texts from the lovely Claire asking him to hurry up and come to Bed. The careful reader will note the capitalisation, we are sorry to report (for him, very happy for her) that Bed is a bar in Bristol.
He chucked a few beers down before moving on to the Ram (a great late night pub) for a few more until kicks out time.
He fell asleep on the sofa in front of the TV of course.
Today has been a very chilled out day in lying on the sofa in front of the TV or at least it was until Becky turned up and he got sent out to get some "nice things". An hour of trekking round various cafes later (and slipping over in a pile of mud, which really helped his mood) the girls were fed and watered.
Other than that the only distraction has been feeding Red's mother's cats (not at all convoluted). Oh and yes her fish as well. He seems to think that a good time saver would be to just let the cats get to the fish and re-stock before she gets back from her holiday but Claire has pooh poohed that idea.
Some might say this is not the most efficient means of quick transport but when it has a bar and is loaded with a few chums he reports that it is not a bad means of getting to the destination (a pub in Hanham).
In fact so enamoured was he of the boat that he took it back to town as well.
His trip back was enlivened by a number of texts from the lovely Claire asking him to hurry up and come to Bed. The careful reader will note the capitalisation, we are sorry to report (for him, very happy for her) that Bed is a bar in Bristol.
He chucked a few beers down before moving on to the Ram (a great late night pub) for a few more until kicks out time.
He fell asleep on the sofa in front of the TV of course.
Today has been a very chilled out day in lying on the sofa in front of the TV or at least it was until Becky turned up and he got sent out to get some "nice things". An hour of trekking round various cafes later (and slipping over in a pile of mud, which really helped his mood) the girls were fed and watered.
Other than that the only distraction has been feeding Red's mother's cats (not at all convoluted). Oh and yes her fish as well. He seems to think that a good time saver would be to just let the cats get to the fish and re-stock before she gets back from her holiday but Claire has pooh poohed that idea.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Lemmings
This week has been quite a quiet one for our hero so far and so following prodding from our editor we managed to persuade him to do something for us to write about (some might say that staging your life for the purposes of a 'blog is a bit sad, not us obviously).
So he decided to head up to London to catch up with the lovely Alison a chum of very long standing. Of course this country is blessed with a transport system for the 19th century so there couldn't possibly be any problems with such a simple trip along the great Brunel's lines to London.
Obviously there could be. It is probably a little unfair to be critical of the railway system as the cause of the line closure at Ealing (therefore closing Paddington) was a voluntary fatality. It seems to becoming a bit of a trend though as this is the fourth time in 12 months he has been delayed in this way.
Having eventually made his way to Hammersmith he was hanging around out the front of the station when suddenly a very forward young woman came and pinched his bum. They were both very relieved that Alison had guessed correctly.
A splendid supper followed during which he regaled (bored? - ed) her with tales of his travels (remarkably it appears she is one of the very few people who do not read this!) as well as the other goings on in his life.
Sadly he had to get the last train home so the night could not descend into one of total drunken debauchery but he promises us that next time he visits Alison it will do so stay tuned.
We would like to report a totally uneventful train journey home. As we say we would like to...
So he decided to head up to London to catch up with the lovely Alison a chum of very long standing. Of course this country is blessed with a transport system for the 19th century so there couldn't possibly be any problems with such a simple trip along the great Brunel's lines to London.
Obviously there could be. It is probably a little unfair to be critical of the railway system as the cause of the line closure at Ealing (therefore closing Paddington) was a voluntary fatality. It seems to becoming a bit of a trend though as this is the fourth time in 12 months he has been delayed in this way.
Having eventually made his way to Hammersmith he was hanging around out the front of the station when suddenly a very forward young woman came and pinched his bum. They were both very relieved that Alison had guessed correctly.
A splendid supper followed during which he regaled (bored? - ed) her with tales of his travels (remarkably it appears she is one of the very few people who do not read this!) as well as the other goings on in his life.
Sadly he had to get the last train home so the night could not descend into one of total drunken debauchery but he promises us that next time he visits Alison it will do so stay tuned.
We would like to report a totally uneventful train journey home. As we say we would like to...
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Rubbing's racing
After a weekend of debauchery a quiet time was needed. Obviously needed but not to be had. He and BGB went go-karting.
A night of mano a mano, wheel to wheel action promptly followed and the testosterone flowed like wine. Finally with the chequered flag in sight he was black-flagged for (allegedly, he denies it) too much contact and flicking the ‘Vs’ at the other drivers who were getting in his way. When we say he denies it he genuinely does not remember it, the red mist had clearly descended.
Suffice to report that he was not a happy camper coming off the track, throwing his gloves at one of the marshals in disgust and proclaiming very loudly (to protect the innocent (and to keep the word count down by 50) the swearing has been omitted), “if they can’t drive they shouldn’t bloody well be out there, contact my arse, rubbing’s racing.”
He won’t be asked back.
After all this excitement he got back to the flat (via some power-sliding around the streets of Bristol) full of nervous energy (and testosterone) to discover the lovely Dennis and Becky chatting and eating chocolates. They took one look at his somewhat maniacal face and ran.
A night of mano a mano, wheel to wheel action promptly followed and the testosterone flowed like wine. Finally with the chequered flag in sight he was black-flagged for (allegedly, he denies it) too much contact and flicking the ‘Vs’ at the other drivers who were getting in his way. When we say he denies it he genuinely does not remember it, the red mist had clearly descended.
Suffice to report that he was not a happy camper coming off the track, throwing his gloves at one of the marshals in disgust and proclaiming very loudly (to protect the innocent (and to keep the word count down by 50) the swearing has been omitted), “if they can’t drive they shouldn’t bloody well be out there, contact my arse, rubbing’s racing.”
He won’t be asked back.
After all this excitement he got back to the flat (via some power-sliding around the streets of Bristol) full of nervous energy (and testosterone) to discover the lovely Dennis and Becky chatting and eating chocolates. They took one look at his somewhat maniacal face and ran.
Monday, September 11, 2006
La Rocca, the final frontier
Gay George (Not Actually Gay) has been threatening to descend on Bristol for a night of anarchy for some time and this weekend he followed through on that terrifying threat.
Of course, in the usual way, he was late (75 minutes on this occasion so quite good for him). The drinking started at a gentle canter (don’t worry it worked up to a healthy gallop later) with a quiet beer in the Coronation before they met up with Dennis, Becky, Old Speckled, BGB and his +1 at the Clifton Sausage for an early supper (Tigger having jibbed out).
Now in Gay George (Not Actually Gay)’s mind the night went something like this:
Few beers over supper in Clifton Sausage…final drink in Embargo and home (for another 4 hours of drinking).
The ellipsis covers his memory gap. Fortunately, and remarkably, your correspondent has been able to piece together the blanks from conversations with our hero. For the record they involve:
Drinking in the Albion (enlivened by a very drunk Jon who insisted on our hero smoking a cigar (he is still suffering from nicotine poisoning)), Gay George (Not Actually Gay) falling arse over tit off a wall in Victoria Park, dancing in Comfi (and by golly did the two of them trip the Light Fantastic), drinking in The Square and being refused entry to La Rocca.
Now astute students of the Bristol nightlife will be bemused at this stage by the final entry, “surely that is impossible” they will be asking themselves and, up until Saturday night, your correspondent would have been compelled to agree with them but having seen it with his own eyes he can report that it is indeed possible to be refused entry to La Rocca. Remarkable.
Discretion forbids us from also recording that Becky and Dennis were smooching outside of Embargo nor revealing that all of the, male, patrons of the bar had their faces pressed to the window to get a better look. It would also be quite wrong to reveal that he has photos.
Of course, in the usual way, he was late (75 minutes on this occasion so quite good for him). The drinking started at a gentle canter (don’t worry it worked up to a healthy gallop later) with a quiet beer in the Coronation before they met up with Dennis, Becky, Old Speckled, BGB and his +1 at the Clifton Sausage for an early supper (Tigger having jibbed out).
Now in Gay George (Not Actually Gay)’s mind the night went something like this:
Few beers over supper in Clifton Sausage…final drink in Embargo and home (for another 4 hours of drinking).
The ellipsis covers his memory gap. Fortunately, and remarkably, your correspondent has been able to piece together the blanks from conversations with our hero. For the record they involve:
Drinking in the Albion (enlivened by a very drunk Jon who insisted on our hero smoking a cigar (he is still suffering from nicotine poisoning)), Gay George (Not Actually Gay) falling arse over tit off a wall in Victoria Park, dancing in Comfi (and by golly did the two of them trip the Light Fantastic), drinking in The Square and being refused entry to La Rocca.
Now astute students of the Bristol nightlife will be bemused at this stage by the final entry, “surely that is impossible” they will be asking themselves and, up until Saturday night, your correspondent would have been compelled to agree with them but having seen it with his own eyes he can report that it is indeed possible to be refused entry to La Rocca. Remarkable.
Discretion forbids us from also recording that Becky and Dennis were smooching outside of Embargo nor revealing that all of the, male, patrons of the bar had their faces pressed to the window to get a better look. It would also be quite wrong to reveal that he has photos.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Devil Children
Children, don’t have them; is the only message to take away from our hero’s weekend.
Friday night he headed out with a whole host of people from work to celebrate his good friend, Sedgers, 20th anniversary with the firm. He then promptly forgot that he had agreed to go round the lovely Helen’s for supper. Fortunately she sent him a text to remind him and he managed to lie sufficiently well to convince her that he had not forgotten her. After a fine supper of lamb tagine they hit the bars of Clifton and cut quite the dash.
Obviously Saturday had the prospect of being a bit of a write off but fortunately the lovely Claire insisted that they do something and so they headed off to The Vine Tree in Norton were they bumped into his good chum Tails (passim) and his wife Jo. The Vine Tree is a fine country pub and we can record that it is well deserving of its recent awards from the Good Pub Guide; although he rather spoilt the effect by tucking into the dessert menu (and dessert wine) with rather too much gusto for his own good.
Despite being the size of a house and barely able to fit behind the wheel of his car after this over-fine repast he dropped the lovely Claire home and set off up to his mother’s in Surrey.
Despite the best efforts of some idiot who had spun his car and closed the motorway thanks to a healthy disrespect for the speed limit laws he managed to get up in a tolerably reasonable time and they enjoyed a first class curry from The Raj in Purley (now if they don’t give him a discount next time we will be very upset) (I thought we had agreed that journalistic integrity prevented such shameless advertising? – ed).
Now we get to the meaty bit. Sunday was a day with the family. His sister, brother (in law), nieces, uncle and aunt all descended on his mother’s. His middle niece (Phoebe) is a charming girl…er, well if the truth is she is not; she is a devil child. She felt the need to remind everyone of her charming powers by sticking her hands in her shitty nappy and plastering her faeces all over the walls, drawers, wardrobe and television in our hero’s old bedroom. Suffice to say he has struck her out of his will. Horrid child.
We would like to report that she made up for her excreta based fun by being a charming little girl for the rest of the day. Sadly we can’t. She managed to smear taramasalata and hummus all over the shop. His mother’s carpet will never be the same again.
Now usually he tends to want to hang around at his mother’s and get fed. Remarkably he didn’t feel so inclined this weekend. The shit and general detritus of Phoebe didn’t really appeal and so he headed back to sunny Bristol early doors.
Having got back to Bristol the lovely Dennis suggested that a nice bottle of red wine on a school night would be a good idea. He forgot to disagree. Around 0200 she asked if it was wrong to open a second bottle. Again he forgot to disagree. Around 0400 this morning they called it a night. Oh dear. Today was not a fun day at work.
Friday night he headed out with a whole host of people from work to celebrate his good friend, Sedgers, 20th anniversary with the firm. He then promptly forgot that he had agreed to go round the lovely Helen’s for supper. Fortunately she sent him a text to remind him and he managed to lie sufficiently well to convince her that he had not forgotten her. After a fine supper of lamb tagine they hit the bars of Clifton and cut quite the dash.
Obviously Saturday had the prospect of being a bit of a write off but fortunately the lovely Claire insisted that they do something and so they headed off to The Vine Tree in Norton were they bumped into his good chum Tails (passim) and his wife Jo. The Vine Tree is a fine country pub and we can record that it is well deserving of its recent awards from the Good Pub Guide; although he rather spoilt the effect by tucking into the dessert menu (and dessert wine) with rather too much gusto for his own good.
Despite being the size of a house and barely able to fit behind the wheel of his car after this over-fine repast he dropped the lovely Claire home and set off up to his mother’s in Surrey.
Despite the best efforts of some idiot who had spun his car and closed the motorway thanks to a healthy disrespect for the speed limit laws he managed to get up in a tolerably reasonable time and they enjoyed a first class curry from The Raj in Purley (now if they don’t give him a discount next time we will be very upset) (I thought we had agreed that journalistic integrity prevented such shameless advertising? – ed).
Now we get to the meaty bit. Sunday was a day with the family. His sister, brother (in law), nieces, uncle and aunt all descended on his mother’s. His middle niece (Phoebe) is a charming girl…er, well if the truth is she is not; she is a devil child. She felt the need to remind everyone of her charming powers by sticking her hands in her shitty nappy and plastering her faeces all over the walls, drawers, wardrobe and television in our hero’s old bedroom. Suffice to say he has struck her out of his will. Horrid child.
We would like to report that she made up for her excreta based fun by being a charming little girl for the rest of the day. Sadly we can’t. She managed to smear taramasalata and hummus all over the shop. His mother’s carpet will never be the same again.
Now usually he tends to want to hang around at his mother’s and get fed. Remarkably he didn’t feel so inclined this weekend. The shit and general detritus of Phoebe didn’t really appeal and so he headed back to sunny Bristol early doors.
Having got back to Bristol the lovely Dennis suggested that a nice bottle of red wine on a school night would be a good idea. He forgot to disagree. Around 0200 she asked if it was wrong to open a second bottle. Again he forgot to disagree. Around 0400 this morning they called it a night. Oh dear. Today was not a fun day at work.
Singing in the Rain
The last game of the season; after a wonderful summer with barely a drop of rain and more drought orders than the summer of ’76 clearly the gods could only deliver a balmy evening to round it off. Sadly your correspondent is an atheist and those accursed gods delivered miserable driving rain.
Inspired by the lovely weather and a sense of proper contrariness the squad, of course, rushed to make themselves available leaving the Chairman (Williams) with his only selection conundrum of the season. The best team of the season was the clear result.
Now far be it for your correspondent to criticise the Bar but as usual they couldn’t be trusted to turn up on time whilst the CW boys turned up nice and early for a change (if only they could manage this during the rest of the season) and so the barristers were put into bat.
Despite the driving rain and the gloomy conditions Dropper was not going to give any quarter and he opened the bowling with Burton and Ringer A who bowled with aggression and no small amount of precision. Ringer A was helped bowling up the hill with some wicked bounce out of the wet pitch and the Chairman was soon diving all over the place trying to stop the ball with his usual level of success (i.e. not much).
Burton whipped out an opener with a snorter fended to gully (where the catch was well taken by Wright) before Ringer B (Taylor M) was brought on at first change. The Chairman had clearly worked out that he has lost at least a yard of pace and decided to stand up to him. This was to prove to be a very sensible choice as he picked up a stumping much to Ringer B’s chagrin.
Ringer B was not on particularly sporting mood when the 13 year old came into bat and cleaned him up first ball.
The skipper tried a couple of overs but with a very wet ball he just bowled some rank beamers.
Meanwhile Chiffers and Earl were making an absolute dog’s dinner of trying to make catches on the boundary. Chiffers’ chance was at least somewhat challenging (it came down with snow on it) whilst Earl just made an absolute dog’s dinner of his very simple chance.
Webb was brought on very late in the day on a hat-trick. He made the rather odd choice of bowling a rank long hop at one of their most culture batsman. A ploy of some genius astonishingly as he promptly put it down Ringer A’s throat for a well thought out hat-trick, congratulations.
Earl and the Chairman combined nicely for a wicket (well the Chairman made a dog’s ear of the catch but held on) and Earl decided not to bother with his help and bowled another.
In one of the more sporting moments of the year the skipper decided to bring back Burton at the death who bowled a brilliant over just missing the outside edge 5 times.
Having restricted them to 66 for 6 off their 15 overs it was apparent that it was CW’s match to throw away. The tried and trusted Webb/Williams opening combo was trusted again and Webb did his best to make a game of it by playing round a straight ‘un from the 13 year old. The Chairman decided to get aggressive and smashed two lovely square cuts whilst trying to avoid laughing at Ringer B’s antics at umpire. Meanwhile Earl as usual gave it some long handle and quickly retired bringing Wright to the middle.
With the crowd baying for the Chairman’s wicket (or at least to ensure he didn’t hit the winning runs (an honour he has singularly failed to achieve in 10 season’s for the firm)) he did the decent thing and let Wright take the honour and win the game with 6 overs to spare.
Whilst not a close match it was played in a fantastic spirit and was enjoyed by all, as evidenced by the drinking afterwards into the early hours. The discussions re the intricacies of dogging were particularly illuminating for your correspondent.
Man of the Match? A difficult decision, Earl was clearly in the running as was Ringer B but in the end the heart won out and Webb got the nod for completing his hat-trick and trying to make a game of it (by getting out cheaply).
Batting
Webb Bwld. Edwards Jnr. 2
Williams Not Out 21
Earl Not Out 27
Wright Not Out 6
Extras (8W, 4NB, 3B) 15
Total 70 for 1
Ringer A, Welch, Burton, Holt, Chiffers, Ringer B, Thomas did not bat
Bowling
Burton 3-0-10-1
Ringer A 2-0-8-0
Ringer B 2-0-10-2
Welch 2-0-17-0
Thomas 2-0-11-0
Webb 2-1-6-1
Earl 2-0-8-2
Inspired by the lovely weather and a sense of proper contrariness the squad, of course, rushed to make themselves available leaving the Chairman (Williams) with his only selection conundrum of the season. The best team of the season was the clear result.
Now far be it for your correspondent to criticise the Bar but as usual they couldn’t be trusted to turn up on time whilst the CW boys turned up nice and early for a change (if only they could manage this during the rest of the season) and so the barristers were put into bat.
Despite the driving rain and the gloomy conditions Dropper was not going to give any quarter and he opened the bowling with Burton and Ringer A who bowled with aggression and no small amount of precision. Ringer A was helped bowling up the hill with some wicked bounce out of the wet pitch and the Chairman was soon diving all over the place trying to stop the ball with his usual level of success (i.e. not much).
Burton whipped out an opener with a snorter fended to gully (where the catch was well taken by Wright) before Ringer B (Taylor M) was brought on at first change. The Chairman had clearly worked out that he has lost at least a yard of pace and decided to stand up to him. This was to prove to be a very sensible choice as he picked up a stumping much to Ringer B’s chagrin.
Ringer B was not on particularly sporting mood when the 13 year old came into bat and cleaned him up first ball.
The skipper tried a couple of overs but with a very wet ball he just bowled some rank beamers.
Meanwhile Chiffers and Earl were making an absolute dog’s dinner of trying to make catches on the boundary. Chiffers’ chance was at least somewhat challenging (it came down with snow on it) whilst Earl just made an absolute dog’s dinner of his very simple chance.
Webb was brought on very late in the day on a hat-trick. He made the rather odd choice of bowling a rank long hop at one of their most culture batsman. A ploy of some genius astonishingly as he promptly put it down Ringer A’s throat for a well thought out hat-trick, congratulations.
Earl and the Chairman combined nicely for a wicket (well the Chairman made a dog’s ear of the catch but held on) and Earl decided not to bother with his help and bowled another.
In one of the more sporting moments of the year the skipper decided to bring back Burton at the death who bowled a brilliant over just missing the outside edge 5 times.
Having restricted them to 66 for 6 off their 15 overs it was apparent that it was CW’s match to throw away. The tried and trusted Webb/Williams opening combo was trusted again and Webb did his best to make a game of it by playing round a straight ‘un from the 13 year old. The Chairman decided to get aggressive and smashed two lovely square cuts whilst trying to avoid laughing at Ringer B’s antics at umpire. Meanwhile Earl as usual gave it some long handle and quickly retired bringing Wright to the middle.
With the crowd baying for the Chairman’s wicket (or at least to ensure he didn’t hit the winning runs (an honour he has singularly failed to achieve in 10 season’s for the firm)) he did the decent thing and let Wright take the honour and win the game with 6 overs to spare.
Whilst not a close match it was played in a fantastic spirit and was enjoyed by all, as evidenced by the drinking afterwards into the early hours. The discussions re the intricacies of dogging were particularly illuminating for your correspondent.
Man of the Match? A difficult decision, Earl was clearly in the running as was Ringer B but in the end the heart won out and Webb got the nod for completing his hat-trick and trying to make a game of it (by getting out cheaply).
Batting
Webb Bwld. Edwards Jnr. 2
Williams Not Out 21
Earl Not Out 27
Wright Not Out 6
Extras (8W, 4NB, 3B) 15
Total 70 for 1
Ringer A, Welch, Burton, Holt, Chiffers, Ringer B, Thomas did not bat
Bowling
Burton 3-0-10-1
Ringer A 2-0-8-0
Ringer B 2-0-10-2
Welch 2-0-17-0
Thomas 2-0-11-0
Webb 2-1-6-1
Earl 2-0-8-2
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