Work is Hard...

Things achieved this week that I didn't expect:

1. Making my very first elastic band ball
2. Squeezing my rubber desk "stress duck" to build up forearm mass
3. Spend the first night without my wife since we've been married doing pilates and sewing

Being a working man can really take it's toll sometimes. Just to prove I do actually work, I spent a lot of today getting stressed at a subcontractor because he counted the wrong amount of windows.

Flirty at 8.30...

On the lead up to Valentine Day, the media goes crazy- I kind of dislike it a lot, because now Valentines Day is just that, a day, not a celebration of love, just a hyped up day… much in the same way Christmas Day has lost a lot of meaning.

Listening to the radio on the way to work this week has been a hilarity (when the car has actually started!) due to a particular radio show. Capital FM DJ’s Jonny Vaughn and Lisa Snowdon have been running, for one week only, “Flirty at 8.30” where a guy has written in and tells them he fancies a girl, then Jonny calls the lady in question and asks her out on his behalf and offers her a gourmet meal at a top restaurant OR £200 cash, while the man waits quietly for a response to his unrequited love.

Today’s was inspired. Brilliant. Magnificent. It was Ralph’s turn.

Ralph met this lady at a child’s birthday party- she was working as an au pair. Ralph, as was my initial thinking, was not a parent- or indeed an au pair- but the Clown. He was the Clown. At the end of the party, they swapped numbers and have been texting for 3 months- this guy is keen!

Remember, this is all on a London radio show.

So they call her up and tell her a few things about this guy (who she has never seen apart from in his clown costume). She guesses who it may be (when they inform her he sometimes wears a red nose). Then they give the offer… the dosh (£200) or the nosh (dinner date with Ralph the Clown)… to which the lady responds, “I don’t like men.”

Ralph is now brought into the conversation and tries to convince her that she really would have a great time with him, before good old Jonny steps in informing Ralph that “they have a little too much in common.” A short silence from Ralph, poor Ralph, confused by proceedings needs this explained further… sensitive Londoner Jonny comes in with “you have the same sexual orientation!!”

All this broadcast to millions of London listeners. Poor Ralph. Flirty with the wrong kind of lady in this instance. PLEASE listen to the full conversation at http://www.capitalradio.co.uk/on-air/breakfast-show/listen-classic-flirty-830/ it is brilliant.

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.

2008 Christmas...

With my mind still on American time and my body just not coping with thinking it's going to work at 4am on a Friday morning, I cannot work, alas I fear I cannot blog. But despite the fact my Math teacher isn't too bright and gave us exactly the same question for our assignment that he did for our work in class, I still cannot work.


Returning from America, people expected me to have many new anecdotes and stories, but I really don't! I had a wonderful Christmas with the in-laws and met some wonderful new brothers and sisters-in-law, and it was just lovely being with Liz's family, on their terms, where they are comfortable. But there were no exciting adventures, I just felt at home and chilaxed American style- which is very similar to English style and which I'm pretty adept at.


Not being with my family for the first Christmas ever was a real strain, almost willing them not to call up because of worry that it would be too emotional. I'm so glad they did though, my affection for my parents is only second to my wife, and hearing their voices was a real godsend. My in-laws gave me many highlights to remember:

Playing in the snow. We get coatings of snow in Britain, flashings of snow, if you will. It was great to have about a foot of snow for the majority of time we were there. It was so much fun to be able to hurl myself to the ground, or simply trip up spectacularly in front of my mother and sister-in-law just before the entrance of the Carousel Shopping Mall, and feel like I'm falling on pillows and marshmallows. I even enjoyed feeling like my face was going to freeze off just so that I could stand amidst a snow storm.


Meeting new family. We had a wonderful wedding celebration while in America- hosted by Loretta- in which 30 or 40 new people (cousins, uncles, aunts and close friends) came along and I had to meet each one and try in vain to remember each one. It was quite the day! But luckily I had Brad, Brad, Bobby and Bob to keep me company and save my bacon, especially Mindy's Brad! I was able to cling on by having fun with a great brother-in-law who had this same initiation only a few years back. Thanks Brad Mac!


Pride FM- where they play Star Spangled Banner and Proud to be an American all day long, non-stop.


Gaining a niece! As mad as I have been getting at Liz for having too many pictures of her (now our) niece around the flat, upon meeting her, I instantly knew why. She was adorable and we had a lot of fun together. Teaching children naughty things that I know I won't have to deal with is something of a speciality of mine, this was no different. We learnt that picking your nose and eating it was fun, that bouncing on sofa's and beds is not wrong, and that hitting people in the face is hilarious. T'was wicked. But I'm not broody just yet. Honest?


Nintendo Wii. Bobby and I ruled the Wii, or the Olympic Games at least- beating each other to World Records was the new Beer Pong. Fencing was a particular highlight, with Bob and I locked into what seemed like a genuine duel of hatred, getting steadily closer to each other and the TV screen while slashing violently, but accurately. My arms are now stacked. Although I'm not sure what's more frightening, how much I unexpectedly enjoyed it, or that my sister also received a Wii and apparently is kicking butt at WWE!


Food. This will be a surprise to no one. If anyone stays with the Watkins' you have to request Loretta's pulled pork and chicken. I will leave it there, it's making me hungry.


Overall, the best thing was seeing where my lovely wife grew up, the sights and sounds of Canastota and the surrounding area's. Meeting her influences, seeing how she is around her family in a comfortable environment. Observing as she engages in conversation with older and wiser generations of her family. How she is the same with me as with them and knowing that I've fallen in in love with someone genuine to the highest degree. I have married a truly remarkable woman and into a great family.


God bless America.

Dream Come True...

Blowing my own trumpet is something that, recently, I’ve tried not to do.

This is an exception. A big one.

Last night I was the scorer of my best ever goal, and probably Monday Night Football’s best ever to boot, scored against the best Monday night goalkeeper there is.

With about 15 minutes gone I saw the keeper off his line and a plan formulated in my brain. As the ball came to me (inside my own half) I used my first touch to flick it over someone’s head (with my right boot), and with the second touch used my left boot to volley the ball over the retreating goalkeeper and into the far corner of the goal. “Perfection” may have been used by an opposing team member to describe it.

This is one moment that I wanted to blog about before my wife beats me to it.

The memory makes me smile.

This is how it happened. The yellow line represents the movement of the ball, the blue dot is me and the red dot is the opposition. You first see me MASH UP a red by flicking the ball over his head, then you see me loop the ball over the hapless keeper!

Still Hanging in There...

I noticed today that not one single post in the month of October had been made... which is understandable given wedding plans, honeymoon breaks and getting back into the swing of life. It's been a heck of a month, a life changing one, one might be so bold to say.

The highlight of the month was clearly getting married. Sorry ladies, it's true and most definitely happened. P-Brow is off the market! But I want to be able to devote more time than this to that. It's an event which requires more than just a stop-gap and a mark in the October posting-checklist.

I guess, when all is said and done and I need a quick post to keep the 'at least one per month' dream of dreams alive, football is a fairly safe place to return to. As a married man, I'm yet to kick a football yet, mainly due to a recurrence in a shoulder injury. A bizarre one this time though, with no obvious starting-of-pain point and it fluctuating between agonising and non-existent on a day to day basis.

This reduces my posting possibilities further, to commenting on others playing the game I so love. Talking of the game and love... my wife is amazing! On honeymoon, she not only allowed, but positively encouraged me to go and watch the England v Belarus match as well as watching match of the day with me, a highlights show of the top soccer games played over the weekend.

My notice this week is the consistencies between the English and Spanish champions of the past few years... they are as follows:

Spanish

2000/01 Real Madrid
2001/02 Valencia
2002/03 Real Madrid
2003/04 Valencia
2004/05 Barcelona
2005/06 Barcelona
2006/07 Real Madrid
2007/08 Real Madrid


English

2000/01 Manchester United
2001/02 Arsenal
2002/03 Manchester United
2003/04 Arsenal
2004/05 Chelsea
2005/06 Chelsea
2006/07 Manchester United
2007/08 Manchester United


It amuses me that Man U and Real Madrid have won in the same seasons, as have Valencia and Arsenal, and Chelsea and Barcelona. Uncanny.

I doubt very much that this bears any interest at all to anyone who reads this- but a) it's an observation that I am pleased with, and b) it means that I'm 1-0 for October, which is a relief to you all.

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!