Silly silly Footballers...

Footballers do such silly things, at all levels of the game.

The one that I've been a part of that sticks most vividly in my mind is my best friend Jon Lewis' stupidity. I was in the process of being shown a yellow card for retaliation (I stuck an elbow in an opposing midfielders rib cage after a dirty horrible challenge by him) and the referee was taking such a long time about it that Jon decided to shout out "Oi ref, stop looking at his arse"... and promptly got booked himself.

Here were a couple of other studig things from the professional side of the game:

In a match against Chelsea that was affected by increasingly thick fog, Bartram (the Charlton Athletic goalkeeper) was unperturbed by the lack of action for 15 or so minutes, presuming his side were on top. He didn't have the, er, foggiest that the game had been called off. "After a long time a figure loomed out of the curtain of fog in front of me. It was a policeman, and he gaped at me incredulously. 'What on earth are you doing here?' he gasped. 'The game was stopped a quarter of an hour ago. The field's completely empty'."


Mark Bosnich, whose other career highlights include being arrested outside a strip club on the morning of his wedding and being sacked by Chelsea after testing positive for cocaine, on this occasion entertained the crowd at Tottenham, noted for having a considerable Jewish following, during a break in play with his goose-stepping, moustache-sporting Adolf Hitler impression.

You've GOT To Be Kidding Me...

...This is a phrase is reserve for one of those times when the truth just seems bizarre, and one of those times was today.

At work I have been busting my gut to get a particular project done in time (Names and companies have been removed). It is the life of an Estimator, you have deadline and whether it’s finished or not, you have to give a final price.

Due to various unforeseen reason, I was recently give a project, approx. value of £1 million to price, and was only given 2 and a half weeks to price it (I should have had 5-6 weeks!)- a near impossible task for a trained Estimator, let alone a trainee! We decided to endeavor and do our best, but with one week until deadline and barely any of the job priced, we bit the bullet and asked for an extension of time. We/ I was shot down and given a firm no. A few days is all I needed.

Now, coming up to a week after I submitted the price, I called the Project Manager to see if our bid (we were bidding against 5 other Contractors) was successful/ in the ball park/ being looked at seriously and to my, probably obvious anger, was told that they hadn’t opened the envelopes yet. My stunned silence provoked him to carry on explaining… and he explained very elegantly that a couple of members on the Clients’ board of directors are on holiday and that they can’t be opened until their return… in another one and a half weeks!!!

You’ve GOT to be kidding me!

The Power of Blog...

The power of blog can no longer be under-estimated (as if it ever was)...

This may not be of utmost interest to most readers, as it is yet again sport related, but it truly is too good to miss!
The Times newspaper was completely duped by a particular sports blog when compiling its Top 50 Young Footballers. At Number 30 was “Masal Bugduv (Olimpia Balti). Moldova's finest, the 16-year-old attacker has been strongly linked with a move to Arsenal, work permit permitting.”
The accolades found on said blog declared things such as “the next wonder kid” and “already has a handful of international caps” as well as linking this player to many a big club in the transfer window.

Upon research of this unknown prodigy, findings were that not only has this “player” not played for Moldova or Olimpia Balti, there is actually no such player in existence- he was a complete fabrication. The author of this particular blog had updated the Moldovan Football Wikapedia page to include Masal Bugduv and spark this rumour last summer. We all fell for it.

Needles to say, the Number 30 spot was quickly replaced, by Jay Simpson, on loan at West Bromwich Albion.

If only this was the only time The Times had been made to look foolish, in 1999 it reported that Liverpool FC were making a swoop for £3.5 million rated Didier Baptiste- a French player who existed, but as a character on a Sky One TV show.

Shame on them.

Sympathy Vote...

I am beginning to realise (and, in truth, have known this for a while) that people simply have no sympathy for me. Ever.

There are some exceptions to this rule, such as having a fire in my bedroom and having operations on my shoulder, but it usually takes something of a pretty extreme proportion for me to get any excuse. This is why I think this is the case (and please remember, these are only from the past week!):

- I currently have a stupid cold. Rather than getting the bed rest I needed last night, I decided I'd prefer to represent my 5 a side soccer team. Yes, I kicked butt fo sho. Yes, I scored 5 goals in the first game I have played in 5 months due to operations and fire and ensured we won for the first time in 5 games. BUT, the big "yes" is that I feel 10 times worse for all my efforts. I don't even expect sympathy for that one.

- At recent bachelor parties, knowing that mine was fast approaching, I have endeavoured to hand out severe punishment and generally batter my close friends until they are black and blue (both friends still had enormous bruises come their actual weddings!). Therefore when mine actually comes and we play football for 4 hours and people rugby tackle, punch and kick me whenever I have the ball, sympathy does not even enter the equation. Even when Glendal face plants me into the ground, not one tear is shed. Luckily no lesson needs to be learnt, as my turn is over and done with!

Will I ever learn these lessons? I don't think I will. Elizabeth now faces a tough task in looking after me. For the rest of her life. Ha HAAA!

Babies Galore...

There is, currently, a huge baby boom going on at Church... it's ridiculous! Something like 15 babies will be born this year, and plenty more are due for next year! One of my Groomsmen has recently had one (moreover, his wife has) and another Groomsman's' wife is pregnant and due late November!


This excites me a lot. Firstly, I love children (on a Sunday morning I rarely talk to adults because of herds of children that I find myself being stupid with). I have some quality banter with a 7 year old who supports a rival soccer team; a 4 year old girl who is moving to Turkey this time next year regularly tells me that 'Phil' means 'Elephant' in Turkish; a 5 year old boy will punch me non-stop for as long as I'll let him for want of being turned upside down and carried around for a while. They are fun, have great energy levels, and are probably the most genuine people in the world!


Secondly, as I embark on the magnificent journey that is marriage, and look into baby planning etc on the Marriage Preparation Course, it's great to have close friends who are kind of a life stage ahead of you. One day I will be sucking all the kid rearing wisdom I can out of these folk!


Third... it means I can pretend I'm massive (which I am... see previous post) and take fun photo's like this:





Don't get me wrong here, I am not broody in any way. Right now (well, in 15 days time) Liz will be my family, and that's all I'm after and what I want. In fact, I hate kids. Leaving my parents to start up my own family will no doubt be tough- they are the most amazing people I have the honour of knowing- but I am very much looking forward to cleaving to and figuring out how to be family with Elizabeth Kate.