Schadenfreude is my weakness

So there I was at the kids school on Saturday.  The Summer Fun Day providing another excuse for Master C to empty my pockets of change.  In walks a former work colleague of mine.  A guy who I knew pretty well when we worked together, he and his then girlfriend acted as witnesses at my wedding, we went to their wedding.  We lost touch after he moved to London to work, but bumped into one another on the train a while back.   He’d moved back up here to bring his kid up in Scotland.  He and his missus had moved into the same town as us, and his kid is at the same school as ours.  So far so good.  Anyway, to Saturday, and another woman walks in behind him.  She is introduced as his girlfriend and the conents of he pram she pushes, as his son.

I’m no prude, despite the fact that he was one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met and probably would’ve been the last person I’d imagine in this situation, he’s there.  What went on in his marriage, I neither know, nor indeed care about.  What it got me thinking about was whether or not I’m a curse.

I’ve been to a fair number of weddings in my time, particlarly in the period since I got married.  The number of those marriages that are sill marriages is significantly lower.  I counted four that are still existant, and two of those are less than two years old.

Now, my marriage is far from perfect.  We have many issues to overome, and not so long ago, it wouldn’t have been too much of a stretch to see us split up.  We certainly don’t stay together for the tax breaks, but neither do I judge those who can’t make it work.  I just wonder, are we strange that we’ve managed to last almost 17 years?  Do we doom our friends to divorce by accepting their wedding invite?

Life eh?  What a tangled web it is….

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You may have noticed the World Cup is about to start.  I’m already getting world cup fatigue.  It’s a peculiarly British thing, and comes from the strange conflict between nation and union.  I use to be very much of the “Anyone But England” camp, but I like to think I’ve matured over the years, and from a strictly sports point of view, I reckon the whole of the UK could benefit from England winning the Cup and more especially the bid for hosting of 2018. 

Where I still fall down is with all the attendant hoopla, hype and general ill informed forgetful punditry.  Quotes like “The entire nation”, profligate use of “we”, the interminable corporate tie ins…..it goes on and on.  These are the reasons we non-English in Britain like to see it all go breasts skyward.  The shocked faces of the punditry teams, the near tearful voices of the commentators and of course all those hopelessly optimistic but now just funny confectionary wrappers.  It’s just reward for confusing England with Britain.

I’m boycotting Mars, Kellogs, Tesco and especially Carlsberg.  The last of these really should have more self respect, I mean, they’re Danish ffs, and Denmark are actually in the tournament!

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I’m conflicted.  Earlier this year I took the decision to stop playing cricket.  The club needs a scorer, i quite enjoy doing it and thought it would be the ideal means to scratch the cricket itch without putting my aging, overweight frame through the rigours of playing and training..

Due to circumstances I’ve not been anywhere near the club yet this season.  But, I’m home now, so that’s about to change.  The problem I have is that given the number of player losses over the winter, the club finds it’s playing resources stretched.  Our first team has lost 4 in a row, the seconds aren’t doing too well and the thirds, the time I was so recently a part of, have lost all 5 they’ve played so far.  Relegation is not an option, and I find it hard to resist the thought of “riding to the rescue”….until the rational brain kicks in.  I haven’t trained, I feel heavier than I did at seasons end last year, and to be brutally honest.  Bowling doesn’t look like the week link on the team.  They’ve held teams to decent totals and bowled sides out.  Run scoring seems to be the issue, and for me, a bat is for leaning on.  No, I should resist, I want to resist, I must resist…it’s the scorers hutch for me.

Ken Stott?!?!?!

OK…I admit it, I’m a little bit obsessed with Football Manager at the moment.   I grew up playing those sort of games, and after a few years of near addiction to the Internet, I decided to buy the 2009 edition.  On the plus side, I’m not on the Internet nearly as much as I used to be, vacantly staring at screens doing not so much (and yes, the wife banning me from Facebook helped that), but, now I’m on FM every chance I can manufacture…..and I’m not exactly all that good at it.  However, the way it’s taking over my life is going too far now. 

There I am, in bed, sleeping nicely thank you very much when I start dreaming.  Not all that unusual really, but, it’s an FM infestation.  My club was struggling against relegation in the game, andmy dream revolved around the fact that the board wanted to get rid of me.  Except sacking me wasn’t an option, this was a full blown plot to force me into either topping myself or them hiring a hitman.  Players were “poisoned” against me, it was a living hell.  The real kicker however was that the dream was me watching a “dramatised for TV” version of the events, in which I was played by Ken Stott.  Ken Stott!?!?!?!  No disrespect to Mr Stott, who’s performances I’ve enjoyed in many shows, but, outside of Scottishness, we have nothing in common.  OK, so Brad Pitt wouldn’t be a realistic choice either, but Ken Stott?  I know I have low self esteem, but surely my psyche could’ve found someone a tad more, oh, I dunno, I mean christ, not even Michael “I can do anyone” Sheen….maybe I should just switch off the laptop!!

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On that subject, I will be doing just that very shortly.  Cricket season is underway, even here in the frozen north, and it’s our first pre-season match today.  Sadly it’s on the plastic at Roseburn, where it’ll be cold and miserable, but it’s action.  I’ve had nothing but one fielding session in preparation, so no doubt, I’ll be firing the ball all over the place (no real change there), a full report will follow, as will a preview of the upcoming league season, starting on May 2nd.

I’m off to Roseburn…..

Ouch!

When did I get so unfit?  Ok, so it’s a rhetorical question.  I’ve always been fairly idle, I managed to prolong the onset of a spreading backside by doing the odd bit of exercise now and again…but increasingly, I find it’s just too cold/wet/there’s something on I have to see to go out and partake of exercise.  Except for cricket, I still love my cricket and I still “play” to the best of my meager ability, but the preseason gets harder as the winter pies wreak their havoc on my once svelte physique.

Four months of living on expenses in London hotels hasn’t helped either (thank you, Work), so when I belatedly made it along to my first training session of the pre season last night, I knew it wouldn’t be pleasant.  Many of the guys have been involved in indoor sessions once a week for the past couple of months, and so were showing some signs of life.  Me, I was the breathless, red faced, sweaty lump sucking in air after just a few minutes of light fielding drills…..and today, I hurt!!  The bruises on the hands are to be expected, that ball can come at you quite fast off the catching ramp, but the muscles that haven’t been used since last August, when our glorious promotion season ended are now complaining loudly. 

I’ve always tried to model my bowling style on Richard Hadlee (smooth approach to the wicket, consistant line and length, don’t give ’em any width) but increasingly I feel I resemble Angus Fraser, portly, lumbering run up, buckets of sweat on a creased brow, red faced for hours after just a couple of balls of effort….it’s not a pretty picture. 

Anyways, time to get ready to leave the office, gotta take the little fella to Maccy D’s tonight….(I’ll be having something chickenny!)  or maybe Nandos….tomorrow will be a whole new day of doing nothing, or at least next to nothing….I have the “Welcome Pack” to sort out for our offices….the things they find you to do when there’s no work about. 😀

Hello world!

OK, so, I had (have) a nice wordy post all ready to go in here, but, it’s on my memory stick and well, the pc nazi’s here at work have set the access rights such that I can’t access anything I plug into the USB on this machine.  So , this will have to do until I can get the thing uploaded at another location.

On the bright side, it’s the first outdoor training session of the year tonight.  I haven’t done any indoor work at all due to having been in London for the past four months.  That wasn’t really any good for the spreading midriff either.  Winter takes enough toll on my racing snake physique without being reduced to eating four nights a week.  Why must they make Bodeans taste so good???  Those combo’s and a drink for £10 nights are simply amazing value if you like your meat.

Righto, I’m off to Quahog….