Hello all you other sad sacks out there
League 5 was held at the Wetlands. I did not turn up and find myself on my own – an added bonus is that everyone else decided to join me there. Following on from League 4:- Neil's hangover apparently lasted 3 days. He blamed it on something he ate, but we all know far better than that!
The results for the first 4 were pretty close, with only a couple of hundred points separating them. This would obviously mean that either the other guys are getting better, or Steve had a relaxed day at the office. When you are at the cutting edge of competitiveness like myself, you can sense these matters.
Steve must certainly be aware of the improving flying of Young Simon. In fact, when Simon had a radio problem, there followed 10 minutes of circuit checking, battery checking, crystal checking etc. The problem was eventually resolved when Steve discovered that his own radio had been left turned on. That's got to be the way to settle these young upstarts down:- kick the handicap system in early!
Certainly, Simon's last duration slot was a classis. He worked steadily and precisely in low level lift for a long time before finally achieving enough height to take a well deserved slot win, with 10.01 and 90 landing.
As an aside – We recently had the room under the stairs decorated. Years and years of trophies from model flying and kart racing were in there. The boss bin lined them all and consigned them to the garage. I decided that this was not a fitting resting place for them, so erected a couple of large shelves in the office at work and stood them there. This was around early June.
Now some of my workmates have a warped sense of humour. They decided to start removing trophies 2 or 3 at a time and taking them to the pub next door and seeing when I would notice them moved.
Well, when I go to work in the morning, I am usually thinking about work, walk in the office to the kettle and start preparing the daily diary. I didn't notice them missing.
When I call in the pub for a quick one, my eyes rarely stray higher than the barmaid's cleavage, Therefore I didn't notice the influx of trophies into the pub until around 20 July. The whole pub except me knew about this, and all had a laugh at my expense. It then occurred to me that they looked good where they were, in fact Terry (the landlord) had had his bar staff cleaning them because they were too tarnished to be on display.
AaHaa! Since that time, I have been sneaking in 3 or 4 dirty trophies per week and taking back 3 or 4 freshly polished ones. Let's see when they notice!
So – if you want to see a collection of old trophies (from the days when I could fly and win) and have a decent pint, call in at the Black Bull, Hightown, Castleford. Let me know and I will join you.
Cheers for now