Thursday 19 August 2010

Criminally bad timing

Just a quickie today - a story of bad timing that, thankfully, has ended up with me just blogging about it rather than being in a cell or something.

The other day me and the missus were out gardening. I was doing my manly "mow the front lawn with ipod on" and she was in the back, decimating weeds. Lisa then spotted that one of the trees in our garden was dangerously branching out onto the road over our wall and that the stem was splintering away.

We decided to take emergency action and cut the branch off. As it was about 12 foot long it was left precariously balanced on our fence - half in our garden, half now all over the road. We couldn't shift it from the just garden, so I climbed over the fence - next to our For Sale sign - using a stepladder, swung the ladder over the wall and got down the other side. (Bear with me).

I grabbed the long branch and leaves and moved it off the road and then shinned back up the ladder to get it back over the fence.

So there I was. In the scruffiest clothing I had, unshaven, up a step ladder, by a fence, next to a for sale sign...when the Police video van happened to drive by. Spot me. And reverse up the road.

I couldn't have looked more suspicious if I'd had a bag with 'Swag' written on it. Or perhaps be brandishing a candle stick yelling "I'm coming for you Colonel Mustard."

Thankfully a quick chat to explain I was the homeowner and trying to shift a dangerous branch was more compelling than me trying to break into a vacant house. But, my lord, I felt guilty. After a few minutes they were satisfied with my explanation and I was able to get back into the garden.

I found Lisa hiding behind one of the trees, having remained utterly silent throughout the whole incident. She whispered to me "I didn't know what to do, so I just hid the saw." I think we've watched too much CSI, with priority number one being 'hide the murder weapon'.

Thinking about it now, whilst the Police were right to stop why would a burglar also be tidying branches up - presumably a very thoughtful horticulturarly-minded one - and be armed with a saw (not the best weapon for burglarly, unless the homeowner is ostensibly wooden.)

A best of all? They didn't find the body we'd just buried...

Friday 13 August 2010

Balls

If you've come here expecting a testes-related post, I apologise, it was just a ruse to get you to read about my sporting prowess. Actually, the idea of a testes-related post did lead you here then I'd be considering therapy about now.

I'm not the best sportsman in the world, but I'm not the worst. Last night I played cricket for the first time in 10 years. I've not really played much before, in fact the last match was for charity and I ended up nearly breaking the ribs of a batsman. Not with my bowling, he was on my team and I ran into him with the handle of the bat. And I got run out. Oh, the unfairness.

Anyway, last night I made up the numbers in a game and something happened I'm now convinced that I am blessed by the sporting gods, but only for about 2 minutes in whatever sport I play. Everyone had to bowl in the 20 over match and after 9 overs (i.e. the rest of the team had bowled) my turn came. I stepped up, chucked a half decent, possibly spinning, ball down the pitch and the batsman launched an almighty slog at it. It sailed majestically over my head and towards the boundary. But not far enough to the boundary, as I watched in amazement it dropped into the hands of a fielder.

Colman's lifetime figures. 1 ball. 1 wicket. 0 runs conceded.

As the fielder trotted over, beaming, I announced to the team my retirement from the game. They didn't take me seriously. They should have of course, because in came a huge man who - after prodding defensively at the next 3 balls - hit me for two sixes in a row.

Colman's lifetime figures. 1 over. 1 wicket. 12 runs conceded.

So I wasn't the Phil Tufnell I was hoping for, but that one moment of unexpected joy sums up my sporting career. I've never won trophies or medals, but I've always had a few great moments. Let me stress now, I haven't made any of these up, if I was going to do that they would be a lot more impressive.

Football
Asked by a bloke I drank with in Torquay if I'd fancy playing for The Kents Cavern pub, I sat on the bench in the first half before coming on at the start of the second. The game kicked off and a few passes later and our winger was bearing down on goal, but as he went to shoot he was tackled and the ball shot across the pitch straight into my path - first time shot, goal. In under 25 seconds on my debut. First touch of a ball.

Rugby
At school we had sports tops that were reversible. Red on one side, red with a big white stripe on the other. As we warmed up in a class v class match it started to rain, and when it came to kick off I realised I had to change my top. Sadly the rain had made the top so wet it was proving impossible and I had one arm in the top when the ball was punted forward straight to me. I caught it and, with just one arm in my top, somehow managed to sprint full pelt (I was 11) and beat the ENTIRE opposition team before touching down. All with one arm in my top.

Darts
My brother and I used to spend a lot of time playing darts, as it was a lot cheaper than pool (skinflints eh?). Usually our games of 301 took about 20 minutes, often getting down to a double 1 finish. Then one night I threw a treble 20, a treble 20 and, without hestitating, another treble 20. A 180. I leapt in the air whooping, so much so that a nearby dog went mental with fright - whilst my brother was on his back waving his hands in the air sharing the emotion. Yes, we had been drinking.

Golf
Well, pitch and putt. And this really isn't made up. The Three Hammers golf course in Wolverhampton runs alongside a dual carriageway. On one hole I sliced the tee shot, it flew off, hit a tree and pinged out through the hedge onto the road. There was an almighty crack as it clearly hit a car. Bricking it, I ran off the tee - sure that the next thing I would hear was a crash. I didn't. Instead I got to the green to find my ball sitting there. It had sliced, hit a tree, gone through hedge and hit a car at the exact angle and speed to put it back over the hedge and onto the green. I putted in for a birdie.

So those are my sporting triumphs. No, I've never won a cup (or that many games of anything really) but the mad highlights reel that plays in my mind has those few moments listed above and that's good enough for me.