Billy

To be or not to be…

Hello, good evening and welcome……….

It’s been far too long since I had the opportunity to address the multi-continental audience that Neil (and Jake now it seems…jolly good to have you on board Mr Kirk) and I have accrued. So, for all 8 of you who read this…welcome back.
I have put a couple of thaaangs on the site so far, but they were both ‘cheats’, as I had written the match report a while ago…and the other I just nicked from school.
It seems we have gone from the sublime to the ridiculous, as we now have 2 websites up and running…quite what Neil’s thinking is behind this I’m not sure…although the man has never done things by half, so perhaps it is no wonder.
So what to talk about?? Well, in the wild world of Cornwall, not much has changed since we went ‘off the air’ (in May 2010)…although I have managed to add to my quite impressive collection of broken bones, by falling off my bike last August, and breaking my collarbone…2 nights before a gig with the band (www.myspace.com/mrbeatband if you fancy a gander).
It was a PEDAL bike…and yes…I was…
…totally and utterly.
Myself and my good lady are, however, now in our 3rd year together as a couple, and this has thrown up a plethora of a situations that are quite new to me, so forgive me if I say things that the rest of normal adulthood has embraced many moons ago. As those of you unfortunate enough to know me will be aware, I have concentrated on avoiding responsibility of any kind since my late teens…and have done rather well, as I now find myself in my late 30’s (??…I’m 36….is that middle, or late 30’s?? My Mrs. tells me it’s late, but she IS Cornish, and turning up at 9.30 pm when you said 7pm is considered ‘on time’ down here, so perhaps I’ll settle for middle…and perhaps I shall keep my ‘punctuality rant’ for another time…if you’ll excuse the pun).
It seems that as soon as you answer the question ‘How long have you been going out?’ with any figure above 2 and a half years, you are immediately presented with the follow-up question ‘…And when are you getting married?’
This does NOT happen in other areas of life:
“How long have you had your car…?”
“…So when are you getting a new one?”
Or…
“So you’ve lived in your house for 4 years have you??”
“Isn’t it time you moved?”
I find it a little baffling.
I am also besieged by questions from Gemma’s grandparents about the arrival of babies. Now, excuse me being rude here…but if a young couple (OK, OK…young ish) are asked when babies are due as this is clearly seen as the next step in their lives, am I then within my rights to respond with:
“I don’t know. Tell me, when are you expecting to kick the bucket, grandma??”
I would imagine this may be frowned upon.
And don’t get me started on trying to save for a house…I have come to the conclusion that the majority of tramps I see (hobos for the USA…dunno the NZ version) have it sussed: they always seem to have a drink, a smoke…and a full head of hair.
I can, for various reasons, no longer mange any of these it seems.

I shall leave it there….next time I shall tell you how the lovely Gemma almost got the Dominion Theatre in London evacuated, by having a pee.

Let’s see Grandma manage THAT, eh??

Ps…have decided to put this on both sites….how exciting…other site is www.alright.co.nz/ if you wanna trawl back through what Neil and I have blathered on about all this time. If you are reading this on THAT SITE, then apologies, as this may disrupt the space time continuum.

match report

BCHE OLD BOYS V SOME WHIPPERSNAPPERS AND A FEW OLD FARTS.

Lambrettas Bar, Bath, Friday May 14th 2010, 8pm…and the pre-pub-pre-match warm-up was going well.

Captain Earl was drinking Peroni lager, striker Downes chose Carling, super-sub Ashby went for the Guinness…vice-captain Podmore drank Bellringer Ale, and had the stupidest coat in the world. Tactics were discussed over a roll-up outside, the conclusion being drawn that ‘whoever turns up will play’.
Captain Earl was reported to have fallen asleep at the bar of his hotel, clutching a pint, with a pizza on his lap.
Such is the stress of modern day management.

Pig and Fiddle, Bath, Saturday May 15th 2010, 2pm…and the pub-pre-match warm-up was in full flow.

The above miscreants were behaving as they had done the night before…Podmore having very wisely chosen to dump the coat…and Earl now being conscious. Rest of the team had now arrived, complete with WAGS…well apart from Rich.
Robbie was also absent, having been diagnosed with Homo-Weddingitis.
Neil Mahoney was also not available, due to a high tax on heavily loaded long-haul flights.
The usual chaos ensued, with everybody on fine form. Centre-half Chriddo Davis and right-back Matty Ward were seen sharing a jar of lethal strength cocktails, which Davis decided was best washed down with a whole loaf of bread. The evening ended with Messers Podmore, Wilmott, Earl, Ashby and Haynes (emergency bouncer/motivationalist) at a disco in the Huntsman at midnight.
“It doesn’t get any ropier than this…” Wilmott was heard to mutter….
followed swiftly by “…whose round is…hic…it??”

Bath University, Sunday May 16th 2010. Matchday.

Tensions ran high in the BCHE changing rooms. This was due to a number of factors: lack of pre-match preparation time (Wilmott and Earl arrived last of all, in a taxi…bearing in mind that our heroic goalkeeper, Mr Stuart Fennel, had driven up from Portsmouth before they managed to even get out of bed); One or two members of the team were lacking the correct kit…namely Davis, who was rumoured to have lost his Barcelona whilst placing outlandish bets at the Houston State Rodeo; and of course the fact that as native Newton Parkers, being on University grounds makes us edgy. And so we kicked off.

Team: Fennel; Ward, Woods, Davis, Hulbert; Philcox, Wilmott, Earl, Stevens; Bray, Downes.
Sub: Chewbacca.

A clear and bright morning heralded the start of the match. BCHE began well, with Stevens piling forward and unleashing a couple of shots which narrowly missed….the corner flag. “Don’t go overboard” were skipper Earl’s words of advice, and Stevens dutifully returned to covering for Woods’ utter lack of pace in defence.
The first real threat to Fennel’s goal came in the form of a corner…or it may have just been a cross…I forget…but either way, Davis rose magnificently, salmon-esque, to confidently head clear.
Sadly, he also heads a ball like a f*cking salmon, and somehow managed, with his back to goal, to head the ball directly into the ground, with enough backspin to send it behind and over his own goal-keeper.
In-f*cking-credible if you think about it too long…but better than being carried off injured after ten seconds…supposedly.
BCHE pushed forward as best they could, and kept the opposition at bay for the majority of the rest of the first half…Hulbert showing his eternal class at the back, despite having not played competitively for quite a while.

Half time:
BCHE 0 – 1 F*CKING CHRIDDO

The second half began brightly, with BCHE tiring a little, but showing their true class in knocking the ball about with fluid ease (this, after all saves any of us from having to run too far). Philcox was lionhearted in his pursuit of an equaliser, indeed at one point he seem determined to tunnel towards the opposition’s goal.
At last a breakthrough…some good work in midfield from Earl and Wilmott pushed the ball out to Stevens, who slid a pass towards the evergreen Bray…who in turn found Downes on the edge of the eighteen yard box. Still with work to do, Downes turned his defender inside out like a rubber glove, and stroked the ball into the net with his trusty right foot.

BCHE 1 – 1 STILL CANT BELIEVE THAT GOAL

At this point, Stevens Junior arrived pitch side, having been driven there by his mother or something like that, and announced that he couldn’t take his place on the bench due to a broken fingernail.
Then disaster. The other team (who cares??!) broke through the midfield, and hoofed a hopeful ball right to the feet of Simon Bloody Emmett.
He fluked a goal.
So what.

BCHE 1 – 2 CHRIDDO AND A JAMMY SOD

Into the dying stages. Having played his heart out, Hulbert was replaced by Ashby, who entered the fray at left midfield, his game being all about pace and touch.
Shockingly…he wasn’t too bad.
At one point or another, the opposition (this may be a slightly subjective report) managed to fluke getting a corner, but thankfully Stevens was on the line to head clear as the ball looped over Fennel. Everybody congratulated Stevens, not so much for the clearance, but more out of relief that it hadn’t been bloody Davis there, with his fifty-pence head.
Throwing everything forward, the BCHE HEROES were determined not to lose their 100% unbeaten record…having already lost their 100% hen-pecked midfielder to a wedding…of all things.
At last a breakthrough…Philcox, battling bravely against his late 30’s, managed to push the ball through to Downes, who turning on his left-foot this time, calmly popped his joint into an ashtray, and levelled the match with a long accurate strike.

Nothing else happened after that. We are ace.

The end.