Sunday started badly enough. It was the pétanque club's tripe breakfast and I was struggling to get going after yesterday's electioneering. There was no hair of the dog because we were playing football away and with the slight detour I had to take, I would be driving 150km.
The tripe was good when I got mine at 10, but everybody else was already pissed and it's no fun being the only one sober. Lovely day though. Got to Briffons got changed and warmed up in the strong sunshine directly under the snow fields of the Sancy volcanoes. You couldn't see individual skiers but you could see the lifts working. Real holiday feeling. The pitch was quite uneven, but not too bumpy because the grass was flat and the soil spongy, as you would be after two or three months under snow. It was a footballer's pitch. We started with nine because three of our lads had managed to lose themselves. We were still nil-nil ten minutes into the game when they turned up. I wish they hadn't have bothered. 17-0! That's seventeen-nil! Including 11 (eleven) goals coming directly from a failed offside trap operated by players who fundamentally don't understand off-side. It made no difference dropping back to help out - without an outlet anymore our play was compressed into the last third of the pitch and the law of averages gave them six more goals. In any case, as a 52 year old you get pissed off running up and down and side to side all day whilst the 20 year olds in the team just watch you.asyou go past them. Seventeen Nil Briffons were sporting and gracious winners and they touchingly applauded when an attempted lob landed on top of the net just the wrong side of the bar. Getting diesel at the start of my detour I was ambushed into a few drinks (there's a bar in the petrol station). I had to put up with the inevitable piss taking 'cos I drank shandies. The cops were breathalysing 50 yards down the road and I saw them clock my car - one of these days I'll find my name on a list somewhere. That's also when I found out that the Tripe had finished in a series of punch ups, possibly connected to the elections. The husband of an opposition candidate had his nose broken. I'd spoken to him in the morning and he had been a bit agitated. Mix that with a group of kids who'd arrived directly from a ball in a neighbouring village - an hour's sleep in a Golf doesn't sober you up much before our bar opened at 8 - and you get as we say "Michot's your uncle....... With the broken nose". Seventeen Nil and my political career (I'm bound to be blamed) is certainly already over. Cheech, what a day.... Damian (we dreamed o' five-one) PS Obligatory Leeds bit - All eyes on next satdi 'cos we lost five one at home last week. Just saying like... _______________________________________________ Leedslist mailing list Info and options: http://mailman.greennet.org.uk/mailman/listinfo/leedslist To unsubscribe, email [email protected] John 'Grampa' Sykes Rest In Peace old lad 28th Oct 1938 - 12 Nov 2013 MARCHING ON TOGETHER
