No Fragments Archive 10: Diskmags/nf_archive_10.iso/MAGS/KELSTAR/KELSTR01.MSA/TEXT/CHAT1.TXT

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I guess that as I`m the only one that knew that we`d have a chit-chat
section in KELSTAR,I guess I`d better be the one to write it for this
issue.*Bob*

January is a notoriously dud month.Christmas is over,it`s still bloody
freezing and the summer holidays are light years away.There`s naff all
on the telly and everybody`s totally skint.Christ,I`m depressing myself.
Mind you,the 5 nations rugby started yesterday and Scotland got off to
an excellent start,winning in Ireland and England got a bit of a doing
in the Parc de Prince.
I was a keen rugby player myself once,15 tears and 4 stones ago.I began
playing at scrum-half at school but I think that the P.E. teachers kind
of felt sorry for the opposition when I`d grown to 6`1 by the time I was
16 and the rest of the number 9`s were invariably 5`4.
I remember one game that turned out a bit rough.We were playing for the
Waid-Morgan trophy,(named after the two schools),and we had a very good
team at that time as nearly all of us had gone right through school in
the same year and we were all now in 6th year together.Morgan Academy is
in Dundee and is pretty rough.The game took place at 4.00,right after
school and there were about 1,000 spectators who were lined up around
the park.As we went into the lead the game got more out of hand,two of
their guys had already been sent off and the crowd were beginning to come
onto the park.As I ran with the ball for the corner a hand came out of
the crowd and Wallop,whacked me in the face.Of course temper took over and
I waded into the guy who`d hit me closely followed by the rest of my team,
their team,the ref,the teachers and anyone else who was walking by.The game
was halted 10 minutes or so early but we got the cup.Unfortunately the
police had to be called to escort us from the dressing room to the bus
and the swines never even gave us our tea as they were supposed to do.
Mind you,I recall a very violent game in England too.In the same year we
went on a tour of the Lake District,playing 3 games in a week.The trip
had got off to a very bad start actually when one of the teachers who was
to come with us cried off a couple of days before we were to leave.His
place was taken with a Mr.Nelson who was a French teacher and a nice
enough guy,but he`d passed his test when he was at college and hadn`t
driven since.Anyway,we set off at 7.30 am,crashed into a wall after 6
miles,crashed into a wall at a garage after 20 miles,slid sideways into
a telegraph pole at about 25 miles and we hadn`t reached the Forth Bridge
yet.Things did improve though and we only crashed once more.Unfortunately
it was into a lorry in Abingdon which was parked outside the police
station.As it was Sunday there was no one in the place which was just as
well.We then got lost several times and the first mini-bus got stopped
by the traffic police for going round and round a huge roundabout waiting
for us to catch up.
It was a bit of a relief when we eventually saw a large stretch of water
given that we were heading for Windermere.Unfortunately we were looking at
the North Sea and were on the wrong coast of England altogether.We
eventually reached our destination,a log cabin type affair in Grizedale
Forest,at 11.30 pm.Just a tad late.
Things kind of got carried away now though.The volunteer cook burned the
beans down to a soggy mess,someone put dog-shit in Big Jimmy`s sleeping
bag,Mr.Nelson won everybody`s money at 3 card brag,and a guy called
Raymond fell out of his bunk,put his shoulder out and landed on Tubby who
was sleeping on a camp bed on the floor.
Daylight only compounded the problems.Donald burned the breakfast and
there was a 3 mile walk to the nearest shop.Wee chick got chased out of
woods by a deer and Big Jimmy fell in the river outside the cabin while
attempting to catch the guy that had put the shit in his sleeping bag.
We ran over a workman`s foot as he swivelled his stop-go board at a
roadworks and got lost again on the way to the first game.When we arrived
we had to change in the same dressing room as the opposition and a punch
up started before we`d got our clothes off.
A local TV station turned up to film a wee bit for their regional news
but there was so much punch-ups in the game that they pissed off in
disgust before the end.We were then forced to have a "social event" with
the other team in their common room after but a row of teachers had to
stand up the middle of the room for the duration with one side at one end
and the other,well,at the other.
We did win the match,but that fact kind of got lost somehow.
We got lost yet again on the way back to the cabin and were made to run
5 miles the next day as punishment for the "disgraceful match scenes".
The following day we were treated to a day out in Morecambe but things
didn`t improve much.As it was winter there was nothing to do so we climbed
over the fence at the funfair and had a go on the helter-skelter thingy
but somebody summoned the police and we had to scarper.
We went to a small place called Ambleside and went to see Slapshot the
ice hockey movie.Trouble was we`d gone for chips first and two lads were
a bit late out of the shop and they got refused entry to the pictures.A
squad of locals arrived and found them hanging about and proceeded to duff
them up.Highly unsocial behaviour.
When I played for my school FP team,I was warned by my then fiancee,not
to play at all the month or so before our wedding day incase I broke a leg
or something.Well,turned out that the team was a man short the week before
the big day and as my intended was away shopping,I thought,what the hell,
and dug out my boots.My luck being what it is of course,some dirty bastard
stamped on my face and split the side of my nose with their studs.I
thought that stitches in my face would not be appreciated really so I
refused to have any put in.Of course this was stupidity on my part and the
thing bled for 3 days.Needless to say I was almost not married at all and
the wedding photos were steered around me altogether.Must be the only set
of wedding pics in history that don`t feature the groom.
The injury was compounded slightly though on my stag night when I`d
overdone the pernod and blackcurrant.I misjudged the distance between my
head and the lavvy pan in the pub when I leaned forward to give it the big
Hughie,CLONK,nearly knocked myself out on the rim.What a life.
Mind you,I think that this only goes to show that violence only gets you
into trouble.Especially with your wife.
Actually,the last time that this was true for me was not that long ago.A
couple of mates and myself had gone out for a few pints.Anyway,one of my
chums started arguing with this rather large geezer at the bar.After a wee
bit when it was getting more heated,I decided to calm them down.I turned
to the bar to put down my glass and when I turned back I was Just in time
to catch the punch meant for my mate,right on the end of my nose.Anyway,
it knocked me right off my feet ont the floor,unfortunately in the
resulting melee I was trampled underfoot as the bar turned in to the OK
corral.The result was that I stood up covered in blood and dirty foot
prints.This was the night that I`d chosen of course to wear my brand new
white shirt.Just you try to explain to an irate woman that even though
you`re covered in blood and have bloody huge foot marks all over you that
you`ve not been fighting.Take it from me,they don`t believe you.
Well,anyway,that`s about enough of my reminicances for the moment,catch
you again in the next issue.