The big game!
Sunday 13th November 2005
I woke up sweating all over, despite the bitterness of a Northern Sunday morning. We had played acoustically in the Lock Stock and Barrel the night before and had opted to sleep in the van so that everyone could have a drink. The evening was pleasant enough, the crowd genial but it wasn’t the main focus for any of us.
We’ve all done big events before and nerves always play a part in the preparation, even the night before you feel it and Saturday night was no exception. Nobody spoke about the next day when we played in Crowle but you could tell it was on everyone’s minds. Everybody knew tomorrow was Sunday. The day of the big game!
The inter band football match ended up as three aside. (despite the hype and show boating of the weeks before.) Silent film project managed to turn out five excuses for not making it to the field and one excuse for a centre forward. Paul Musgrave joined our very own Dan (the chopper) Cole and Richey (get in there) Mulryn to make up a team with the combined stamina of…err, well, a rock band on tour.
After an hour or so of wheezing, panting, swearing and fag breaks we managed to successfully get everyone over the five foot high fence leading to Scunthorpe county primary school football pitch. The game continued for some time and had its fair share of tears and cheers but was eventually decided on a next goal wins (Or Golden goal) basis. It was surmised that both teams were pretty much level pegging as although everyone had been keeping score avidly the results were different by varying degrees. It has been suggested before that there is a problem with innumeracy within the band. Especially between the numbers 1 and 4 but the discrepancy in this case was put down to a form of altitude sickness brought on by being so far north. (Where it is very grim.) Thankfully we were all soon cured by lying as close to the ground as possible (where the air was much denser) and from this respite we drew the strength to go back to Paul’s and have a gigantic roast dinner. With pigs in blankets, Yorkshire puddings, stuffing and roast potatoes, chicken, parsnips and cheesy vegetables and I had salmon and beer and carrots in butter and mmmmm… They say the road ain’t no place to start a family. Off to Sheffield tomorrow.
I woke up sweating all over, despite the bitterness of a Northern Sunday morning. We had played acoustically in the Lock Stock and Barrel the night before and had opted to sleep in the van so that everyone could have a drink. The evening was pleasant enough, the crowd genial but it wasn’t the main focus for any of us.
We’ve all done big events before and nerves always play a part in the preparation, even the night before you feel it and Saturday night was no exception. Nobody spoke about the next day when we played in Crowle but you could tell it was on everyone’s minds. Everybody knew tomorrow was Sunday. The day of the big game!
The inter band football match ended up as three aside. (despite the hype and show boating of the weeks before.) Silent film project managed to turn out five excuses for not making it to the field and one excuse for a centre forward. Paul Musgrave joined our very own Dan (the chopper) Cole and Richey (get in there) Mulryn to make up a team with the combined stamina of…err, well, a rock band on tour.
After an hour or so of wheezing, panting, swearing and fag breaks we managed to successfully get everyone over the five foot high fence leading to Scunthorpe county primary school football pitch. The game continued for some time and had its fair share of tears and cheers but was eventually decided on a next goal wins (Or Golden goal) basis. It was surmised that both teams were pretty much level pegging as although everyone had been keeping score avidly the results were different by varying degrees. It has been suggested before that there is a problem with innumeracy within the band. Especially between the numbers 1 and 4 but the discrepancy in this case was put down to a form of altitude sickness brought on by being so far north. (Where it is very grim.) Thankfully we were all soon cured by lying as close to the ground as possible (where the air was much denser) and from this respite we drew the strength to go back to Paul’s and have a gigantic roast dinner. With pigs in blankets, Yorkshire puddings, stuffing and roast potatoes, chicken, parsnips and cheesy vegetables and I had salmon and beer and carrots in butter and mmmmm… They say the road ain’t no place to start a family. Off to Sheffield tomorrow.
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