The Hardest Day Of My Life

My new inspiration.


Another tough week on the settee watching telly, playing ps2 and propping up various bars, life is good.
Sadly I didn’t win the 100 pound comp at the Gibraltar casino but congrats to blog reader Kevin who did the business and won the loot. I played for 10 minutes in the cash game sitting down with 60 quid and deciding to play like everyone else in the game, like an idiot, which happily proved to be a successful strategy and paid for various expenses incurred during the week.
Still cant beat VJ at golf on the tiger woods 2007 but managed to beat Scott and DiMarco ably assisted by Felicia Brown, my chosen partner partly due to her excellent chipping but mostly due to the fact she makes me go all woozy in the trouser department, how wrong is that, a cartoon character is now the focus of my attentions, I think I need professional help.

I did a bad thing last week, something I’m not proud off but I thought it was the better than the other option I had. I had gone on a second date as I mentioned previously and also mentioned there would be no date 3. The problem was I got pissed on date 2 and agreed to date 3 because alcohol (and Felicia) makes Paul horny. Waking up the next day I was in a world of pain, what to do? I did the honourable thing by phoning her and cancelling date 3 with a lie but agreed to re-arrange due to the great big yellow streak that runs down the middle of me. It is far harder to tell a girl you would rather stay in and eat your own toes than go on a third date with her so I took the simpler option and turned my phone off for 2 days, the day before and off the said date. I know it’s not the best but surely a better option than the truth methinks. I know my Mother and Sister will be reading this so rest assured I will get flack for being such a wimp.

I think I have discovered the key ingredient to happiness in retirement, box sets. My best friend James spoiled me rotten by lending me the complete first three series of peepshow and then the first two series of curb your enthusiasm. I had the most satisfactory weekend watching them and as they say laughter really is the cure to all life’s aliments. The best line from peepshow was uttered by Mark when describing a girl he had met in a shoe shop who he instantly fell for, he described her as the perfect girlfriend material, ´she doesn’t realise how pretty she is and has incredibly low self esteem, perfect´.
Larry David’s finest moment so for me was the time he went to Starbucks and they serve him a vanilla cappuccino latte. He feigns surprise and says ´who would have thought? What is this again? Coffee and milk? Wow amazing, you put coffee and milk together? Whatever next?´ Maybe you need to watch it to get the full effect. I’m meeting him tonight to borrow series 3, 4 and 5, happy days.

Still haven’t been able to book my ´travelling ticket´ due in part to never getting out of bed in time and also because I struggle with the phone over here. As mentioned PF kindly allowed me to use Stan James office to use the phone and internet which I happily did last week and I was tickled pink when one of my ex colleagues Padma approached me and asked me when I was leaving. The fact I hadn’t been in the office for a month didn’t enter her mind as unusual obliviously. Though no one approached me and asked me what I was doing in there PF said he got umpteen messages informing him of my presence, I wish he would have feigned horror and surprise just to see people’s reactions. The good news is the ticket is cheaper than I thought; the bad news is I need to sort it out this week or have to wait until the middle of January to go as the seasonal price hike kicks in.

Whilst I was in the office one of mates who dabbles in an assortment of dubious practises offered me the opportunity to buy some Viagra tablets and incredibly optimistically I bought a few. I have of course tried Viagra before, the most amusing time was the first time I tried it.

It was at least 8 years ago and somehow I happened to being going out with a quite simply stunning women. It was a case of me being Brentford and her being Man Utd so I knew it wouldn’t last but to use a football parlance I was determined to ´go out and enjoy it´. We had slept together a few times and even though I did my best I guessed it probably wasn’t the dynamite experience she was hoping for. By chance a mate who I was living with happened to get the opportunity to purchase Viagra at ten quid a pop and asked me was I interested. Ten quid seemed pricey (ecstasy was only five quid a go) but I decided to go for it and a couple of days later sitting in the middle of our kitchen table was a shiny blue pill with 100ml imprinted on it. I should explain that a 100 ml is the strongest dose you could get and apparently would give a corpse a hard on so there was no question of it not working.
We had agreed that I would be going around to hers for dinner that night and so 30 minutes before I left and with my two flatmates watching me in wonderment I swallowed the pill and waited for the results. My colour vision became slightly altered after a time so I knew it had hit the bloodstream and I drove to hers full of optimism that I was about to give her the night of her life.
We enjoyed dinner, a bottle of wine and after the washing up things began hotting up. I sealed the deal after about 20 minutes and as we lay there having a post romp ciggie I began grinning like a Cheshire cat. She of course had no idea off what I was smiling at and we waited for round two which normally would be expected to occur after a 30 minute ´rest period´. Round two came and went and I was gutted that nothing else happened. I lay there waiting for the magic potion to work but nothing, nada, zilch. I was gutted but luckily I hadn’t told her what I had done as she would have been more disappointed than normal.
The next morning I awoke with what can only be described as the most savage raging hard on I have ever experienced. It was bordering on painful and I did the honourable thing by pointing it into her back and begging for sex. ´No can do´ was her disappointing reply, she was running late and even though I begged, cried and offered her money she wouldn’t budge. The only option I had left she kindly suggested was go and sort myself out in the shower which I gratefully did. Of course you can probably guess the rest. Driving home I soon realised there were now two gear sticks. Luckily no one was in and so I rushed indoors and enjoyed personnel satisfaction for the second time and so it went on for the whole fucking day. Slamming it in doors didn’t help nor a cold shower. I ended up setting personnel best (a record that had proudly stood since I was 17) and a left hand the size of a baseball glove. To steal a line from Frank Skinner I literally had no fluid left in me and in the end I was only firing salt.

Another good week for referee’s on the footy front and me old mucker Andy Gray wasted no time in condemning the ref in the Spurs game on Sunday altogether unnecessarily so of course. Watched a rather entertaining derby match last night when me old muckers from Stan’s had the A team v B team fixture with a 5-1 victory for the A side. So far I’m the only Stan’s manager to have won silverware (we nearly did the double but our last league fixture had to be abandoned due to fighting costing us a chance of the league), ´though I hope that record is broken this season. Our top footballing trader Eddie is in the hot seat and the chaps are 4 n zip. I will be away for the remainder of the season I think but I shall be emailing for results and hope to open the Australian branch of the SJ football supporters club.

Of course all plans for the future go on hold Sunday afternoon when the two most unpopular teams in Britain fight it out for supremacy at Old Trafford and I expect my beloved blues to sneak a point at least. Of course it will mean 90 minutes of Andy Gray but hopefully not even he will be able to ruin a game which most footy supporters will watch and will be motivated to cheer on one team because they despise the other one more.
Finally my spurs friend Neil informs me Spurs club shop are now selling the cd of their victory over us at 5.99, hopefully they will never get enough victories over us to make a box set.

Sweet n Sour Cat Please

Barcelona fan's didnt mess about throwing coins



Paul Garden of Stan James fame


Another week of unemployment and I have settled into a nice routine of sleeping, watching telly, ps2 and golf, oh also getting smashed now and again. My neighbours are probably getting sick of my screams every two hours of ´fuck off VJ! ´ But Mr Singh keeps chipping in for eagle to beat me, curses.

Had a couple of dates last week which went reasonably ok but there won’t be any elusive date 3, unusually that’s my choice. I’m still hoping to get away for a break somewhere so there’s little point in taking things further at this stage methinks.

Telly has been surprisingly good this week and thank goodness for channel 4, E4 and more 4. Highlight was of course was last night’s new series of Ramsey’s kitchen nightmares which was brilliant. Some goofy 26 year old had borrowed money to open a restaurant in Spain and instead of using the local produce to full effect he had decided upon ´novelty´ dishes such as prawns with chocolate sauce, you can imagine what Ramsey made of that. After 40 minutes of abuse and piss taking (with one memorable scene where Ramsey discovers dog shit in the dining room) the poor chef\owner was finally persuaded that Ramsey might actually know what he’s talking about and he decided to listen. The device Ramsey used to get the bloke to listen was pure genius and I won’t ruin it for you if the programme is repeated this week, make sure you watch it. Also discovered that aside from Dragon and I there is another person who is obsessed with the food channels and cookery programmes, no less a person than PF admitted he was hooked!

This was followed by a new dating show on ITV which pitted a trainee lawyer\snobby cow against an Essex charmer. The Essex lad had 3 days in which to woo and Dragon and I were on opposite sides of the fence for this one. He didn’t rate the bloke’s chances at all but I have seen this type of operator in action and was convinced she would crack. As the programme rolled it was obvious Essex bloke was a top drawer player and somewhat inevitably in my book he bagged her and it was pleasing to beat the Moroccan open champion at golf (1up) and our will he won’t he prediction. Of course after he had slept with her a week or so later he finished with her, ruthless.

Sadly this week the last episode in TV’s greatest ever drama is shown. The Soprano’s has been in my life longer than any relationship I have had and has never disappointed, please God they make more series. Also I think it’s the last episode of Big Ron Manager. The concept here is take a racist washed up has been (Ron Atkinson), and put him in a club as a sort of trouble shooter where he can reveal how inept most football clubs are run and teams managed whilst he attempts to revive the club’s fortunes by trotting out cliché after cliché and phoning any friends he has left in football (Bryan Robson) and beg for loan players that never materialize. Its cringe TV at its finest.

It was another bumper weekend of excellent footy with the Barcelona game the highlight once again. Having said that they must be a lay for both La liga and the champion’s league, their defence is awful and now Messi joins the crocked list along with Etoó.
Arsenal Liverpool wasn’t too bad with Arsenal winning without getting out of 2nd gear. The game was marred for me by of course by Andy Gray. He gave two perfect examples of why I detest him. With Liverpool falling behind 2-0 Gray pipes up that if he was manager he’d be making a change right now, cue camera cutting to the sideline to see Benitez giving sub Bellamy last second advice, contrived to say the least. Later with the game over at 3-0 Bellamy scores but is 2 yards offside and the goal disallowed. Even after the replay Gray couldn’t stop his bullshit, ´well that’s very very close´ (it wasn’t) and officials need to be able to keep up with play´ (they had).
My idea would be to replace Gray with a betting pundit who could give updated information on Betfair prices along with any stand out in running prices from the fixed odds firms. Imagine a dull 0-0 being livened up with the betting analyst revealing that Betfred where still quoting over 7 corners at 10-11 even though there had already been 6 with 15 minutes to go, ´Fill Yer Boots!´.

I have discussed footy a lot with friends recently and without doubt the best idea I have heard is from my mate Faiz. He wants all clubs to be owned by billionaires and to used as their personnel fiefdoms. Fuck salary capping lets go the other way, the world’s first million pound a week player, transfer fee’s going into the billions etc how good would that be. I believe a few of the world’s leading billionaires indulge themselves by playing the yacht game (basic rules, whoever has the biggest boat wins, currently the Sultan of Brunei is leading but Abramovich has a bigger one being built at the moment).

Me old mucker Graham Poll again made the headlines last week by sending off a player who apparently called him a ´fucking cheat´. The player alleged he had called him a ´fucking shit´ which bizarrely would have gone unpunished (witness Rooney’s verbal assault of Poll last season where he called Poll all sorts for 90 minutes without retribution from Poll). Two words Poll that may not only assist you but all referees’ in future, ´unsporting behaviour´.
I had the pleasure of watching Stan James play Mansion on Monday (1-0 to the Stan’s chaps, hurrah!).Great game which was made even more wonderful by being able to witness the most inept display of refereeing I have ever seen in my life (he actually booked a player for a foul when there was no player within 5 feet of him) but two bookings he dispatched where perfectly in order in my book. Two players from Stan’s where booked for verbally assaulting the ref, one told him to keep his fucking whistle out of his mouth (good point but no need to shout it at him), the other was for calling him a fucking prick (again fair comment but don’t let him hear you). Surely if all officials booked players for any sort of abuse even footballers would get the message.

I was going to witter on about Mclaren’s abuse of position by not drafting Beckham into the England squad (Kieran Richardson is a better option apparently), Mike Newell´s abuse of female officials (you couldn’t make it up) or the normally reasonable Rafa Benitez´s explanation of what he needs to do to get Liverpool winning (he gets paid 40 grand a week to come up with the pearl of wisdom that is, ´we need to improve´) but instead the little matter of players celebrations after scoring raised its head. Shevchenko scored for the mighty Blues at the weekend and celebrated world cup Brazil team USA 1990 style by rocking an imaginary baby to celebrate the birth of his 2nd daughter. Over the weekend El Hadj Diouf of Bolton (he of spitting at players and fans fame) was questioned over alleged wife beating accusations. How much more topical it would have been after he scored by not charging to his fans all smiles and waves, instead say getting Campo to pretend he was his wife and landing an imaginary left hook on him.

Finally on Friday night over dinner I was discussing my poker past with a young lady when I remembered my favourite ever poker story and I remembered I had not yet entered it onto the blog, very remiss of me. As you would expect it involves absolutely no poker rather two great characters that I had the pleasure of sharing many beers with and being regaled by their tales of madness. Aiden Bennett is a huge Dublin drinking machine with a penchant for trouble and his best friend and travelling companion at the time was one Mad Marty Wilson. They told me a tale from years ago that neither thought that unusual but I thought stunning in both its sheer stupidity and comic genius.
The story goes that Marty and Katherine were over in Dublin to stay with Aiden and his missus for the first time. As you would no doubt expect the chaps engineer some fabricated story to enable them to go out and explore Dublin’s hostelries. After a night’s drinking they are on their way home when they witness the sad demise of a cat that had mistimed its run and was promptly run over by a bus. I can’t remember which one had the foresight to see a comic moment but that’s irrelevant. Unspoken they walk over and scrape the cat up from the road, put it in a carrier bag and cross the street. Aiden then walks into a Chinese takeaway which is now filled up with the nights revellers looking for meat n rice fix, bangs the cat on the counter resulting in blood and entrails smattering over the place and announces in a thick Dublin accent ´Tats the last fookin one il sell ya!´. Marty explained that as his sides were splitting so much with shock and laughter he found it very difficult to get away from the 6 or 7 machete wielding chefs that chased him and Aiden all over Dublin.

Right back to tackling VJ plus there’s another 100 pound comp at the casino tonight. I’m still no nearer to booking a holiday but PF has kindly let me use SJ phone lines and internet to get something sorted, I can imagine the poker teams fear when they see me entering the office looking like I’m ready for work, I’m tempted to tell them I have been bought back Ramsey style to ´Sort out this Fucking mess!

A Hot Summer Evening

Not Summer but you get the idea.


If you have watched and liked the office or peepshow you will love channel 4's excellent comedy show 'Star Stories'. Last nights episode featuring ‘Madonna and Guy’ was superb. The sky description of the show was ‘gleefully presses its nose against the steamy window of fame’ and I couldn’t put it any better. If Celeb culture irritates you and you have a sense of humour this show is just the job. ‘Super Hans’ from peepshow was the main lead for this particular episode that I urge you to watch when it’s next on. If you’re not sure watch some of the clips

http://www.channel4.com/entertainment/tv/microsites/S/starstories/watch.html

After that was a part 3 to a film I didn’t realise had a part 2. I first saw infernal affairs last year and it was one of the best Hong Kong movies I’d ever seen. Its main star Andy Lau is rarely in something bad and more recently it has been covered by Martin Scorsese in his film ‘The Departed’. I have no idea if the remake will be any good but trust me on this and rent ‘Infernal Affairs’, it’s a winner.

Speaking of winners, my good friend the Dragon won the ‘Stan James Golf Society Morocco Open’. 18 of us made the journey to the port in Tarifa to catch the 9am ferry Tuesday morning. Most got a coach but I was naive enough to believe the Dragon when he said he would pick me up at 7.30am and give me a lift. He showed promptly at 8.06 which left us about 40 minutes to make the 35-40 minute Journey on a busy Tuesday morning in the pouring rain. Any snarl ups in Algeciras would have finished us but we made it with minutes to spare and my trembling body needing a cigarette after being in the passenger seat to Michael ‘Dragon’ Schumacher on pro plus.

After breakfast and unpacking we ventured to the course where we were two play 2 rounds to decide the winner. The heavens had opened in Spain and it was much the same in Morocco. My four ball consisted of Dragon, Greg and Jez with the Dragon and I continuing our season match bet but also pairing up to eventually beat the tenacious twosome. The greens were awful but countered by the fact we had caddies.
Dragon set the tournament pace with a whopping 43 points off a 15 handicap I managing a respectable 32 off the same. The title would be decided the following day so the day one scores didn’t frighten me to much.

The reason for my confidence is that every summer I go to Galway to participate in the Red Bull Trophy Tour’, a golf society consisting of experienced golfers but more importantly seasoned party animals. On these tours I have learned the ability to play good golf even after consuming life reducing amounts of alcohol and some rich food; if lucky managing 2 hours sleep after a night of dancing and attempted pulling. These tours last 4 days and by the second day most of the field have ruled themselves out of contention complaining of headaches, hangovers, tiredness, dancing injuries, work commitments or lovebites. It’s a great annual event for me and like I said it has prepared me for day two after a very serious night one.

We returned to the hotel for a kip, drink, and shower etc. Dinner was served at 9pm and by 10.30 we had consumed a little food and many many bottles of wine. This is normally make or break time for the evening and whoever was responsible for the post dinner entertainment in the hotel deserves hearty congratulations. Mustapha our guide and driver asked us to put our hands together for the gorgeous ‘Summer’ who was to entertain us with some belly dancing. She eventually made her way to the stage and was met with roars of delight from our tables (the only ones occupied in the hotel dining room). Summer was fantastic, a juicy curvy smiler who put on a great show and responded to our cheers with ever increasing suggestive moves. Greg who was at my table was the first man she picked for a duet and he did not disappoint. Ray was next and he was so good some of our contingent tried to place money into his waistband rather than hers. Ryan, Stevie B and Gordy all accepted invitations from summer to strut their stuff which they all did admirably and helped create a sparkling atmosphere that started the night wonderfully.

Much to our disappointment Summer retired from our company and we converged to the hotels cocktail bar where the serious session began. Laughter was the main noise in the room as anecdotes, gossip and jokes were all exchanged with many new society members being impressed at how people they had previously thought quiet or even timid were in fact outside of work and completely the opposite.
That’s the main reason I enjoy both the golf societies I am a member of so much (even though I have left SJ I have been given honorary status much to my delight). You meet so many top blokes who enjoy the same things as I do, Golf, getting drunk, eating well, laughing and dancing. Golf is a game for all ages many different characters from many different backgrounds, take up the game if you haven’t already, it’s never to late.

After the bar we made the short journey across the hotel to the golden pond lounge/bar/nightclub. I had heard a variety of stories about the place, all good and I was not to be disappointed. First off there were quite a few Ladies in there, secondly the bar was open till at least 3. The music was as in the hotel, Arabic which is not the easiest type of music to shake your booty to but many of us managed a go. Later the house indulged us by playing some pop music from the 80’s and 90’s, my era. Summer surprised us all by reinventing herself from a sexy belly dancer to lead singer of a 12 man orchestra, the girl has many talents.
We began to drift away with the last 4 remaining deviants being Dave Coram, Ryan Dragon and I who all remained drinking talking and generally larking about. At one stage the Dragon made the wise choice of dragging me out of a car with some local and his girlfriend who said they were going to a party. I eventually crashed at around 6.45am and was happy to note the Dragon was well gone by the time we nodded off. Breakfast was consumed at 9.45am at the expense of a shower and the bus driver taking us to the course would have failed a breathalyser from just breathing in our fumes.

I played day 2 with Geordie Jez and Dave D-Force Durnan; it was a pleasant sunny afternoon and the greens had been cut to make putting a little easier. Jez and I lost the match on the last hole but enjoyed an enjoyable round with much banter.
I got the giggles when someone asked Geordie’s opinion on little Paul Garden. As mentioned previously little Paul is quite a character and it’s easy to see how someone like him would confuse Geordie. When asked about the previous evening he mentioned he had seen little Paul approach a Moroccan MAN and had asked him to dance. Geordie’s comment was ‘He’s a little too George Michael for me’. It transpired that little Paul had merely been rising to the bait from some of our chaps and was challenging the gentleman to a ‘dance off’.

I scored a very credible 36 points and was confident this would dispatch the Dragon. How wrong I was. He scored another whopping 42 points and cantered to victory though he also had to say goodbye to his current handicap of 15, a long goodbye because it will be a long time before he sees that particular handicap again methinks.
Second place overall went to Dave Coram and third to Moi. Three of the last four party animals came 1st 2nd and 3rd on both the days points and the tournament overall, a message in their somewhere.

The longish journey back to Tangiers was eased considerably by being in a smaller vehicle along with ‘Legend’ who entertained Ryan Dragon and I with various golfing tales. I again got the giggles when he informed me my old mucker Gordy had some how managed an air shot (that is swinging to hit the ball and missing) not as most people would do, with a big club in their hands but with a putter. Apparently he was standing over a 5 foot putt for an age then went to knock it in but missed the ball, hilarious, the previous evening’s belly dance had obviously affected Gordy hard.

We eventually made it back, Scott, Dave Coram and I decided on a post tour snack at Zen’s Chinese accompanied by a decent bottle of plonk. Garlic prawns, duck and pancakes were watered down with anecdotes and a young rioja. Both are new to the society and both were impressed by the organisation along with the time to mix with people from work they wouldn’t normally transgress with. That’s the whole point to me and I was delighted as someone who believes in the value of these things to hear how much they enjoyed both the golf and the company. Both are top chaps and will be welcome additions to future tours. I hope Portugal is considered as a venue some time in the future. Good weather, many different golf courses and established venues to dance the night away all point to a guaranteed good time to me and id love to do it in Summer, Fnarr Fnarr.

´Ten men went to´....oh fuck off

Surely their joking?

Well it’s finally come to this, sitting in a Spanish internet cafe writing my thoughts to people who probably hate me whilst im sipping coffee and brandy and wondering where it all went wrong.

Of course im joking, apart from the coffee and brandy and Spanish internet cafe part. Im actually trying to book a trip abroad but when you don’t know Spanish its very hard to copy and paste plus spell-check, well your fucked is my conclusion.

I bumped into a good friend of mine in here, Kenny, who was happily playing poker heads up on VC´s until i came in. Naturally he asked my opinion and after he lost his money listening to me he eventually told me to fuck off and now he’s shouting at me about how much he’s winning!

I mentioned last week that i had many options and going to Alicante or Lisbon where two of them. I spoke to me mate Murray who told me Alicante was a washout and that he was glad i didn’t waste my money but then i just spoke to Kenny who informed me Lisbon was a blast ( he went with two other top chaps, Vinny and CD) and that i missed a great time, gutted. Life’s to short to miss good times and i knew i should have gone but an empty settee and a burnt out liver just wouldn’t allow me. Still im off to Morocco in the morning for a 2 day golf trip with some of my ex muckers at Stans. Last time i went i ended the first night in the swimming pool with the golf compiler Greg after the two of us attempted a spot of ´come dancing on the swimming pool steps, should be fun.

Kenny’s not the first to ask me why i don’t try and make an income sitting in cyberspace playing poker but the truth is, as i told him, i just don’t love the game enough to do it for a living. Well that and the fact i don’t need to play coz i got enough money at the money and to win at poker one key component is being hungry. If you don’t have the desire to win you may as well not bother and i fit firmly into that bracket. I actually played last night in Billy’s and decided to play my A game, obviously not enough of an A game to stop me doing my doe but I was happy enough. At least i know if im ever really stuck there’s not only fish in the sea.

Well what to write? All I have done for the past few days is get pissed and watch TV so you would imagine i haven’t got much to say but that’s not at all the case. I have got loads to say and write about and in the spirit of this blog I will be as honest as possible. First off if you own or rent a DVD player do yourself a favour and rent the movie ´Thank you for Smoking´. Without doubt the best film i have seen in two years (reruns don’t count otherwise ´The Big Lebowski´would be top of the list.)

Next, if you know me, live in this area and need a lift to Malaga airport, rent a car for two days and give me a call, I might as well do something constructive other than watching telly and wanking myself into oblivion.

Next, if my wanking joke hasn’t put you off I need to rent my flat out for at least 3 months whilst I search the globe trying to overcome my midlife crisis. (Midlife? Not even I could be that lucky). I may have a potential renter but if he doesn’t bite I will need other options, once again if you live in this area and are interested let me know.

Friday night was the official Paul Spillane leaving do and what a good night it was. Pretty much all the people I have come to love and respect showed at some stage and I acted as most would expect. Drinking Stella from 8pm is really not the best idea if you have a long night planned but somehow i managed to remain reasonably compos mentis and even managed at the end of the night to meet a nice young lady and get a crafty snog in. My biggest concern the next day when i woke up was to remember what the young lady in question looked like. I texted the dragon who was in the vicinity when I miraculously pulled and he gave her an encouraging 6/10. That was enough for me to take the plunge and phone her to make an appointment for a drink after i return from Morocco; I will report how I get on.

Its been quite a surprise to me that recently i seem to be back in form with the ladies. I can’t pinpoint when it started but visits to Ireland Barcelona and the local pubs have all ended in snogs, rumblings and phone numbers, long may it continue. Of course none of them have been stupid enough to go any further than a second date but its a numbers game and if i continue in this form i may well make a third date sometime in the next 6 months.

What a weekend of sporting action it was and being safely cocooned on my settee for most of it i enjoyed a veritable feast of action and punting heartache. First off full credit to both teams in the Wallabies v Taffey´s rugby union game. A 58 point thriller and im now firmly in the Wales for the World Cup campaign. Next up was a rerun of GB´s stunning victory against the Aussies in Rugby League, beating Australia at anything is, as regular readers will know, one of my little pleasures in life and victory was celebrated by cracking open a decent bottle of Rioja.

Next up was the West Ham Arsenal cracker. Im a big fan of Arsenal, they simply play great football and im envious as a Chelsea fan that we don’t play such an entertaining style of footy. I know Mourinho can be a knob but as far as i can recall he hasn’t yet offered an opposing manager outside as Wenger did after West Ham scored. I of course loved it, if you’ve read previous dispatches you will have noted how i want my punting selections to go mental if they don’t win. I didn’t actually back Arsenal but full credit to Arsene for not just shaking hands and saying well done.

Next up was the big one Spurs v Blues and of course our 16 year unbeaten record. What a game, after the Barcelona match hopefully now anyone who thinks we are boring side will stuff themselves on humble pie. There’s so much to write about the game but I will try and keep it short and sweet. ´
It started badly for me when the commentating team was as expected the marvellous Martin Tyler and the moron that is Andy Gray. Still even Gray couldn’t put a dampener on as exciting a first half as the premiership has hosted this season.
Of course I have questions though. Poll or for that matter any referee, why oh why oh why are they not miked up so we can here them. Sky sports should fuck off the ridiculous fanzone ( two meathead fans attempting to be commentators) and just have a live feed of what the ref is saying, how good would that be.

´Terry you’re getting sent off for being a cunt´ that would make a lot more sense to me than the reason he actually got sent off for. ´Drogba, im disallowing that goal coz you’re a diving stitch up merchant who happens to be in a great bit of form and I want to piss on your parade´. Again, makes a lot more sense to me than the actual recorded version of why he disallowed the goal.

Next up a repeat of the idea i read about some time ago and is without doubt the greatest idea i have heard in how to improve the game. If a player is fouled and needs to receive treatment he must leave the field and wait until the referee signals him to come back on. Surely the offending player must go off with him. How can it make sense that your centre half gets fucked in a reckless challenge by a forward who is then allowed to stay on the pitch ( even if he’s booked) whilst the bloke who is meant to mark him is waving like a clubber on acid trying to get back on?

Honestly this is not sour grapes, we get more decisions in our favour now that we are a star filled team with a loud mouth influential manager (Anyone remember Man Utd?) I really just wish Ref´s would be assisted by common sense rules and video technology.
The atmosphere at three point lane as it used to be called sounded absolutely fuckin cracking. Fair play to Spurs fans, their generally the most obnoxious blinkered set of supporters you will ever meet but they don’t half create a noise unlike our mugs who are either on the mobile, blackberry or worse, chanting the most ridiculous song in football, ten men went to fucking mow. Went to mow what? Why did they go to mow? Why sing that song? Its ridiculous and a constant source of embarrassment to me as a blue. I used to have to go and watch Brentford when i couldn’t afford a ticket at Chelsea and although the football was rarely much better the songs were fantastic and if you haven’t sung Hey Jude´ Brentford style whilst watching the bee’s losing 3-0 at home to Blackpool you haven’t lived.


Next question which i honestly don’t know the answer to. Is deliberate handball a yellow or red card offence? If it’s red then Dawson and King shouldn’t have been on the pitch, if it’s yellow then fair enough.

Makelele´s goal was celebrated in great style by the team and the manager but with one serious omission. Where was the yellow card? As my friend Neil W pointed out to me, all players should get a yellow when they score. I was watching Spurs play on match of the day with him and the only other bloke around here whose opinions on footy i respect, Bobby ( Scouser) when Mido scored and promptly ran to his fans, shirt off and jumped in. Neil was screaming as he scored, not in celebration but screaming, ´Get the yellow, get the yellow´. It took me a few seconds to understand but when I did it made perfect sense. Scorers nowadays get booked for over celebrating but fuck it. Im with Neil on this one, we want our players to go mental and act like lunatics, like it really means something to them in this day an age of over paid over hyped athletes. I was as pleased for him as he was for Mido when the ref brandished a yellow card like that was going to stop him.


Talking of Makelele he must be the best player in the world at not getting booked. No matter what he does, scything down a centre forward breaking his leg arm and shoulder in the process his reaction will always be the same. Hands cover his mouth, then go down open revealing a huge grin followed by a wistful smile. Add in a gentle shaking of the head which referees seem to interrupt as ´well he obviously didn’t mean it´, go on Claude!

When they equalised the telly nearly exploded with the noise, I loved it, beating Spurs when they think they have a chance is akin to my views on Aussie sport but this time their fans really did seem to lift them. I would have loved to have been there.

Another question. If Ballack and Lampard can play together so perfectly in midfield then surely Gerrard and Lampard can for England. Hopefully Mike Bassett, sorry i mean Steve Mclaren took notes.

Lennon, Berbatov, Dawson and King all stood out for me. The plus side is that we will probably buy Lennon and King in return for Wright Phillips and Carvalho plus about 100 million. They can have the three points; we will just take their best young talents as a reprisal.

Yet another question. How long do you think it will be before a fan sues a player for getting injured? I thought about this when with a few minutes to go our centre back Carvalho intended to smash the ball out of the ground but instead smashed it full force into the crowd. If anyone was unlucky enough to be on the end of it they were well fucked. I would sue if my nose got broken by a millionaire athlete being so inept that he couldn’t kick a ball over a roof.

Finally and not through to much gritted teeth I have to say well done to Spurs. Ever since I witnessed Martin Jol´s reaction to the goal that never was at Old Trafford I have been a fan of him. To recap, i think it was last season and with minutes to go Spurs were playing Utd at Old Trafford when one of their player’s whacks the ball from the halfway line, probably to try and run down the clock, when the hapless Carroll in goal for Utd drops it and the ball clearly goes over the line. The only people on planet earth to miss it was the ref and linesman and Spurs only got a point when it should have been 3. Can you imagine Mourinho´s reaction? Martin Jol came out for the interview, laughed it off and basically said these things happen. After that i think many people like me wished good things to happen to him, unfortunately it seems my wish came true at the expense of my own team. It’s been a long time coming, i was actually at the bridge the last time Spurs beat us and i was a very young man then, i bet the jokers were singing can we play you every week´ at the final whistle.

I must go now, like i said im in the form of my life with the ladies and a rather attractive Senorita has just sat next to me and engaged in conversation, hopefully Graham poll won’t come in and fuck things up.

Chan Makes The Call

It's been non stop since I finished work. Non stop Tiger Woods 2007, non stop golf and non stop lounging on the settee watching rubbish with the occasional good programme on Sky.

I did though watch a most excellent programme I had seen previously yesterday on challenge, it was the World Series Of Poker 2003 and a TV table featuring Johnny Chan, Howard Lederer, Paul Darden and Chris Moneymaker.
It was hugely entertaining, watching the seriously cool Darden better the Professor and Moneymaker stand up to the Orient Express. In fact it was Moneymaker who unwittingly produced the highlight of the show.
Johnny Chan had made a seriously big raise that Lederer had just flat called and now the action was on Moneymaker. As he seemed to give the situation some serious thought the commentators were massively bigging up Moneymaker'...'He's using the pro's techniques against them!.....'He's being strong, he's not afraid anymore’… etc etc. It took Chan to sort out the situation by asking if Moneymaker realised it was his turn which of course he didn’t, cue howls of laughter and some even more clueless remarks by the commentary team, the final irony being when one of them remarks, 'I think Moneymaker learned a lesson there.'....you couldn’t make it up.

One other upside of watching this programme was it helped me come to a decision about my future. One of the greatest players of all time 'Johnny Chan' was the man who inadvertently made up mind. There was a small feature on him during the programme and at the end of it they asked him what was his secret to winning. He replied that poker is all about instinct and that he had a killer instinct. It got me thinking, I have always believed that instinct is the one key component a poker player needs and mine is pretty good. In fact my instinct has been an exceptionally good friend to me over the years, only once letting me down spectacularly badly last year but other than that its served me well and my instinct informed me I need a break and that a holiday is the order of the day. With that in mind I turned down a pretty good job offer from a bigish poker company and decided that my instincts will guide me through. So now its make your mind up time with Oz and Goa being the earlier market leaders followed by Shanghi, 10/1 bar 3. Perhaps if the legislation in the US hadn’t gone through things may have panned out differently but that’s the way things are so a good break is the order of the day.

Another viewing highlight yesterday was being able to watch Prime Ministers question time on sky. I forget how good Blair is at the dispatch box and he bossed Cameron without much bother; one does yearn for Alan Clark though. If you have any interest in government or the life of an MP I implore you to read any one of his 3 books which are in diary form and follow his up's and down's. This is the man who was accused (correctly as it turned out) with sleeping with a colleagues wife and his 2 daughters. If that wasn’t enough he was extremely rich and had a roving eye that was constantly on the lookout for a new conquest's though he never managed to bed the one true love of his life, Lady Thatcher!

Things are very mixed for me on the sports front presently. The dragon put me to the sword 3&2 at Almenara to lead our series 8 ½ to 7 1/2. Its first to ten and he could the business in Morocco next week. On the plus side I defeated Luke Donald on the 2007 game though John Daly is proving to be a tougher conquest.

Chelsea gave a great performance against the European Champions Barcelona on Tuesday night and all but secured our place in the knockout stages. Great game plenty of action, 4 goals 10 bookings, controversy and another Mourinho 'in yer face' celebration (remember old Trafford when he was manager of Porto?). The highlight though came late on in the game when Deco went down as if he had not only been shot but also hung, stabbed poisoned and beaten with a hammer. John Terry decided to test how badly hurt he was by kicking the ball at him whilst he was on the floor writhing in agony. Deco of course got up immediately and made his way angrily towards one of the most imposing defenders in world football. After Terry tried to wring his neck the ref decided he had to intervene and booked Terry but im sure all Chelsea fans will join in with me in starting a collection for any fine Terry may get. Drogba is a diver and a cheat I know but somehow his acting and diving just look plain stupid whilst Deco is a cold calculating cheat who has got away with it far to long, well played Terry!.

Another TV highlight last night was the penultimate episode of Hell's Kitchen starring our very own Gordon Ramsey. It was full of surprises and a quality shocking ending.
Im starting to watch too many cooking programmes on telly with 'cooking it' and 'a cook's tour' on the food channel all bookmarked every week.
Perhaps that is the reason im putting on so much weight at the moment as every episode of the above programmes have me rushing to the fridge for munchies. A new fitness regime is the call of the day, after Friday of course where im hoping a few ex colleagues will join me for a beverage after work and go through the 'sorry to see you going' motions and 'stay in touch' routine. Ive never been a massive fan of the leaving do but I made so many friends at Stan James I thought it rude not to offer to buy a few of them a drink. To end, another poker quote this time from Amir Vahedi which I think sums up where I am in my life at present,
"... In order to live, you must be willing to die ..." I hope not to do so on Friday evening though.