Jonola14

Over the weekend I joined Simon S, Nick M, Mel N, Elli C and various others in a jolly trip to Twickers to watch Six Nations favourites England play Italy.

Upon arrival at Clapham Junction, a full hour late, I immediately started back on the lagers, topping up the skinful that I had had the previous evening celebrating Alex MacH's birthday. I bumped into an old university colleague that I hadn't seen in years, talked about a few things, then sat down and thought about how bizarre the encounter had been.

Anyway, after having the St. George's cross painted on our faces by Mel N (who also wrote 'Prick' on my forehead), we were photograped by a journalist. During the train journey, Mel was touching us all up, so to speak, to the amusement of all the other passengers on the train. The centre of attention was Nick M who had his whole face painted, but in reality looked like he'd just fallen face first into a bucket of emulsion. "Would you like me to do you to?" Mel enquired of a complete stranger. A look of shock spread over his face. "Only cost you a pound" she added, before we pointed out that her words could, in fact, be misconstrued and they were probably the cause of the man's embarrassment.

I explained the rules of 'The Betting Game' to Simon S and Nick M. Example as follows:
Jonola: "I bet you £1 that the first try scorer will be an English forward"
Simon S: "Ok, I'll take that bet"
- English back scores first try -
Jonola: "Bugger, here you are then"

This continued throughout the game and I managed to lose ALL, yes ALL, my money, whilst muttering and cursing the wretched game.

The crowd was relatively quiet for extended periods of the game, so the decision was taken to liven everybody up by shouting encouragement to the team in true schoolboy fashion.
"WIDE!" I shrieked as England surged forward.
"SCISSORS!" Simon added, his tactical mastermind shining through.
"DRIVE!" I yelled as the English forward piled in, but lost the ball and Italy countered.
"FLAT!" Simon instructed as the English backs took formation in defence of their lines.
"LEGS!" I shouted as Italy broke an English tackle.

And so it continued for over an hour, much to the amusement and annoyance of those around us. However, those that didn't appreciate our little bout of vocal advice could hardly ignore the Mexican wave that, eventually, rippled around the stadium.

England won, Simon bought a hat and I lost all my money. We really must go again.

"bugger, here you are then."

I had the upmost pleasure of sitting next to a prop forward, who decided he wanted half of my seat aswell as his, the thought of asking him to pay for half of my ticket crossed my mind although i don't think it would have been a welcome comment! Bloody good day though!

March 11, 2003

RUGBY