trulybizarre.co.uk logo
Wednesday 5th November, 2025

7th February 2005

Hi all,
A big sporting weekend has just passed, needless to say I was paying full attention to it.

First off was Palace's Saturday lunchtime fixture with Bolton. As it was a Sky Premiership Plus match I ummed and erred about whether to pay ?6 for the privilege of listening to Alan Parry again. As it turned out Lorraine wanted to go shopping in Glasgow. As we drove in we heard Bolton take the lead. Great. We parked near Sauchiehall Street and I was heading to the Sports Cafe in time for the second half, where I got my first bonus of the day. No Alan Parry, instead the commentator would be Rob Hawthorne, the man behind two of the most famous lines in Palace history (which I've repeated on many an occasion, so I won't here).

I was upstairs in the room with the big screen, the same place that Lorraine and I saw Palace earn a place in the play-off final last May. I was determined to be more restrained this time, and I was, audibly at least. When Andy Johnson unusually missed a good chance I was shocked, but when Dougie Freedman turned a Bolton defender inside-out and in again before lashing a shot just past the far post I buried my head in my hands. In injury time Danny Granville cleared the bar with another good chance and my glass reverberated against the table. I know they have good sturdy glasses in the Sports Cafe, frankly I'd like some of them at home. Incidentally to give credit where credit is due, Bolton for the most part were pretty comfortable in defending their lead.

(Strange moment of the game: Palace were on the big screen and also initially on the two smaller screens on either side of it. At some point in the action one of the smaller screens switched to the France v Scotland rugby from Paris. While I was pulling my head from my hands following Freedman's miss I noticed a line-out in the rugby, and a pitchside painter painting the scene. Did his newspaper run of photographer's passes? Just surreal.)

I walked back along Sauchiehall Street and recounted the sorry tale to Lorraine. As it turns out she wanted to see the Palace game with me, but I'd let her get on with her shopping instead. Another instance of communication letting me down.

On Sunday lunchtime we met up with Graeme and Sandra after a family baptism. After a seeming age of mulling around Asda deciding what to do Lorraine and Sandra went away for a coffee, while Graeme took me to a driving range. With my complete set of golf clubs ((c) Neil Taylor, 2001) firmly in the loft Graeme and I borrowed some clubs from the shop and went off to get a bucket of balls.

With the token in my hand I asked Graeme, "Where do you get the bucket from?" Instead of waiting for an answer I carried on regardless and put the token into the machine, and then saw a mountain of balls surrounding my feet. My brother-in-law was laughing at me and I hadn't even sliced a ball towards the M74 yet.

Naturally Graeme and I got two spaces (Cubicles? Mats? What is the correct term for these?) side-by-side and it took it turns to hook, slice, scuff and (occasionally) beautifully drive some golf balls. We got slower as I ended up waiting while the gentleman to my right smacked a succession of near-perfect drives with a slight fade. He was slow, methodical, immaculately attired. Someone doing that really well has a way of putting me off. He was threatening the fence at the end of the field, I was threatening anything living on the ground ten yards in front of me.

As Graeme and I returned to my home we were sent of various errands by our wives. We got in just in time to see the end of the Southampton v Everton game. Southampton were 2-1 up, 88 minutes gone. Great, another bad result coming up in a bad weekend for Palace. Southampton were going to be only a point behind us, with our games against Arsenal, Manchester United and Chelsea looming large.

As the game moved into injury time, Peter Crouch waltzed through the Everton defence and nearly made it 3-1. This looked hopeless. Then the ball came to former Palace striker Marcus Bent. Ball at his feet, he ran at the last Southampton defender, got a yard of space and lashed the ball into the Southampton net. I don't think I've been so happy about a non-Palace goal since... erm... last May. Still, I wonder what Graeme and Sandra made of my celebrations.

Onto the evening, and Super Bowl XXXIX from Jacksonville, Florida. Yes, I know I'm in a minority of Brits who care about the game and the outcome, but I was taking the day off afterwards so I could stay up and watch the game. Points of note were:

- The most hysterical coin toss I've ever seen. Who had the bright idea of letting a young child flip the coin? Don't they know it is meant to spin?
- One of the New England Patriots player's name got the attention of a friend of mine. He sent me a test message saying, "Randy Gay.... No please call me Randall." Hats off to his parents, who I imagine were time travelling Simpsons fans.
- I was intending to have a feast during the game. I had a 12" ham sub from Subway and felt stuffed from that point, so we'll be stocked with food until about 2012.
- Lorraine fell asleep for most of the second half of the game. Cookie had fallen asleep during the first half and was quite happy to have a duvet all to himself.
- For the first time in months I overcame my inability to open a jar of salsa and did so, managing to get salsa down one of my favourite t-shirts in the process.
- He ended up on the losing side, but for me the most impressive performance of the night was from the Philadelphia Eagles' Terrell Owens. Seven weeks after breaking his right leg he looked as if he was 100% healthy, despite still having two metal screws in his right ankle. Meanwhile I was complaining about a blister on my thumb which had developed from my time at the driving range (I know, I'm ashamed of myself).

So that's a sporting weekend for you. Highs and lows, lots of drama and lots of fun. Could I be without sports? Probably not, at least not at this point of my life. I suppose that is part of developing as a person, finding more and more things interesting. Perhaps at some juncture in my life I'll be able to do without sports, but I can't see it being a willing choice on my part.

Have a good week!
Tony

Main Archives