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diary

football

Sat in the holding pen awaiting the call to table. Hungry tonight after my bike ride with Steve Wildman out to the Rob Vashak abode on the cliff. Weather was pretty yukky for the return but we got in some off-roading which ameliorated the sitch a bit. I must remember to charge the battery ready for next time. Sdun. No messin.

Tonight I shall be watching Wales play Belgium at Association Football. It’s a home game and I understand that it would be beneficial for Wales’ progress in the competition for us to at least draw the match. I am optimistic regarding this as despite our star player Garth Bale being injured the Belgians have travelled without a number of their key team members because they have already won the group and to them the result is not material.

Ordinarily I might consider such an occasion as the perfect excuse to open a beer but I am being a good boy particularly as tomorrow night I shall be out on the town with the UKNOF crowd in Manchester. There will be no pressure for me to rush back on Friday either so a leisurely lunch may well be called for.

Now watching the warm up. I don’t know why as it is rarely interesting. In fact I’m actually watching the ads. Some geezer wiv a cockney accent encouraging us to bet responsibly. I presume he means only place bets that are going to win. Placing a losing bet would be deemed irresponsible in my book. I don’t need someone in an ad to tell me that.

The stadium is packed. It isn’t far from my sister Sue’s place in Caadiff. I remember once strolling out from her place for  pint only to find all the pubs totally rammed. I eventually squeezed into one and whilst stood there savouring my beer someone must have flicked a switch because the whole pub emptied out within seconds. They were all off to the game.

Thereafter I moved on to St Canna’s Alehouse where I remember, quite surreally, chatting with the Mayor of Bangor for quite some time. That’s all.

By admin

Liver of life, father of four, writer

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