Sporting Moments - The Grand National

When I was growing up, there were three days which our family would fight tooth and nail to get home for: Christmas Day, Easter Sunday, and Grand National Day. Never has there been a more family-binding (well, our family!) sporting event than that which takes place in Liverpool in April. For the uninitiated, the Grand National is a race for forty horses, run over four and a half miles, over the most famous fences ever seen; Valentines Brook, Canal Turn, Foinavon, Becher's Brook, and The (mighty) Chair (I had the privilege of seeing those fences up close and personal, and they are incredible). The stories that have come from this race truly are the stuff of legend. I urge you to look at footage of races such as 'Crisp' (1973), 'Foinavon' (1967) and the fairytale story of Bob Champion beating cancer, and then with Aldaniti, beating the other 39 horses in 1981 (they made film out of it, and the music will always bring a lump to my throat). They are just a handful of tales, and could each be a sporting moment in their own right........

Weigh in (19)

I cannot quite believe that this thing has been kicking on for 19 weeks now; blimey!
Sorry about the later-than-usual posting, but you were warned! I am afraid I really wasn't hugely surprised when I popped on the scales; the negatives far outweighed (literally) the positives this week. On the credit side of the weight-loss balance sheet were a couple of hours of social badminton last Friday, and the usual no-excessive-booze, no-fast-food pledge; the debit side was quite a bit too much bread (it's amazing what you can make into a sandwich when you really put your mind to it!), no additional exercise (zero badminton matches), and I went a bit fast and loose on the business trip to London......

ALERT ALERT ALERT!!!

Might have a bit of a problem this week, upsetting the weigh-in Status Quo (that Rick Parfitt has a lot to answer for). Work is taking me down to London tomorrow night for a 9am meeting the morning after. the options therefore are.....
a. weigh in tonight
b. weigh in on foreign scales down in London
c. wait until I get home on Wednesday and do the do then

rationalising.......

Weigh in (18)

Tucked up in bed after another victorious match in the Oakgate C team season (what do you mean.....who?!!!). Tired boy, but happy at the signs of continued improvement in my fitness. After the match on Friday I confess that the knees feel a bit tricky, but I got through tonight without getting nearly as out of breath as previous matches. Yay me!
'Weigh in'; sounds simple doesn't it? Two words, easy to pronounce; the world over, people are doing it every day. But for someone who is trying so hard to lose weight (and I know I am not alone in this), the simple act of getting on a set of scales is anything but straightforward......
First there is the agony of anticipation (agonipation? anticigony?); the agony of hoping that a week of working on your health isn't about to come crashing down, and more importantly the agony of just not knowing. Then....

Weigh-in Eve

All in all, I can 100% confirm that Weigh-in Eve is no nearly as much fun as Christmas Eve.
On December the 24th, you are decking the halls, stepping out for a winter walk and anxiously waiting for those jingle bells of Santa's sleigh; tonight I will be checking my calories, stepping up and down on my Wii Fit board and......well.......just anxiously weighting......

Sporting Moments - A Dish Best Served Unconscious

Another footballing anecdote for you, and yet another which I didn't witness; coming indirectly via my brother Paul (he takes up the stories from when I was a dribbling, incoherent, crying thing lying in a cot......just to clarify, that means when I was a baby and not after a particularly wild night out, although come to think of it, with the exception of the cot.....).
Les Bradd - in his three years with County - became a legend. I've done a bit of research (well, googled his name....), and he scored 30 goals in just over 100 appearances for the club (hardly Ronaldo, but it's Stockport County we are talking about here). I have also tried to tell this story in greater detail (some parts are lacking, and for this I apologise, the basic facts are accurate though) by contacting Les himself; I thought I had him working in PR at Nottingham Forest FC, but he left there some time ago and has now fallen off the radar........

Sporting Moments - A Taste of Home

It is hard to believe - I know! - that the stunning, suave, hunk of a man writing this post (no sniggering) was once a timid and shy young lad; but I admit it, I very much was! I didn't really and truly 'find myself' until I made the break from the parental home, bound for Nottingham University.
Somewhere in the attic of memories (not a metaphor, there is really an attic, and it is full of artifacts from the early Adrian years) there is a diary of my first few weeks at Notts; they were not the greatest. As I recall, they were broken down as follows......
5% lectures
35% homesick
20% cowering in my room and too scared to venture out
20% forcing myself to venture out before I became known as......well......'the person who never comes out of his room'
20% feeling totally lost and unsure how the hell I am going to make a life for myself here
I was still in a state of shock on the first Wednesday of my time there; three days in an environment as alien as I had ever experienced was really taking its toll. The one shining light was where I was going on that evening; as quite by chance Stockport County were playing Notts Forest in the League Cup second round, second leg; the first leg of which I had watched in Stockport only a week earlier.
The game and the result really didn't matter (we lost!!); what mattered was seeing all those Stockport players, and all the Stockport fans. It was a source of great comfort; something much more than just a football match. A message to me that no matter how tough things are at the moment, no matter how homesick I am, no matter how displaced I feel; that Stockport will always be there if I need it, Stockport County will always be there if I need it, and home will always be there if I need it. It may sound pathetic, but that gave me immense inner strength.
The coincidences didn't end there, as the following Saturday, County played an away match against Mansfield (very near to Nottingham) so I went to that too. Then on returning to university after my first visit home, I was walking out of Nottingham station, only to bump into one of our central defenders in the taxi rank!
County - and I'm sure most football clubs - get a lot of stick when times are hard (matches are expensive, players don't try hard enough, directors and owners are only in it to make a fast buck etc) and I confess I do at times fall into the category of 'giver-of-stick'. What I forget is that I owe Stockport a lot too; good memories, exciting memories, and very occasionally, help to adjust to new-stages in life!

Weigh in (17)

Okay, I'm going to keep this very low key; no 'hurray'.....not so much as a 'hip' (let alone two of them!). Three pounds off, leaving me at 17 stone 7 pounds. Proof that just being careful is still enough to get some weight off; I'm also starting to suspect that it is more than just coincidence when bad weeks coincide with drinking a larger than normal amount of alcohol (interesting journey this; the blog is helping me analyze what works, and more importantly, what doesn't!).
So I'm not going to make a big thing about this weeks weigh in; it is good news, but too much celebration will lead to another week of undoing all the good I've done. Instead it will be a smile, and a metaphorical nod of acknowledgement towards the success, and then knuckling down; getting on with the next week......I WANT THAT 17 STONE BROKEN!!!!
Going out for a meal this Thursday; could be a tricky one, but a couple of badminton matches coming up this week too, so plenty of opportunity to work up a sweat.
Let's get on with it..........

Hmmmmmm......not sure.....

Really can't judge what tomorrow's weigh-in will bring, bit nervous. On the negative side I haven't been monitoring my meals that closely, and there has been the odd wobble (bit too much margarine on the bread, bit too much on the plate); in addition, the week off has lead to more than a bit of lazing around. However in the plus side, there have been no takeaways, no significant sins and no booze; plus I did a six and a half mile walk in the Lancashire countryside.......which turned out to be nearer seven and a half..........when I got lost!
I will be angry with myself if I have put on more weight (let's face it....who else can I be angry at??), as it essentially represents a failed week. I know I will bounce back if the worst happens (eventually I believe that I will bore myself so stupid with the 'one meal at a time, one day at a time' inspirational talk, that I will actually start the practice along with the preach), but if it's all the same to you I would rather not have to.
Keep your fingers crossed, and by the way; happy birthday Wee Ali!

Sporting Moments - You Wouldn't Get This With Man United!

I tell you, this slide show thing is doing my scone in. You would think that there would be a simple set of instructions titled something like 'how to increase the size of your photographs'. However, it seems that in order to achieve this seemingly simple task, I have to bring together information from about five different websites, not to mention learn what feels like the entire foreign language known as HTML; all to see a bigger and therefore uglier photograph of me!! Hopefully it will be sorted soon......either that or I will learn something else........the aerodynamic qualities of a HP laptop, and the impact resistance - or not - of double-glazing. Anyway, that's not the porpoise of this post; more sport (says Wee-Ali with a roll of her eyes!).
It's amazing. When I first thought of this subject of the month, I was worried that I might be short of ideas after the first couple of weeks. Then stories just keep popping into my head. Except today ladies and gentlemen; today I am offering you a bargain. You lucky people......today you are getting not one story, but TWO. I can almost hear your little cup of joy overflowing. Both stories are on a similar theme, centred around one of the big reasons I love supporting a team like Stockport County.
First of all, let me introduce you to Jarko Wiss. Back in the days (a LONG time ago!) when County were a half decent team, we started to trawl mainland Europe to buy a players. Jarko was a Finland international with a wicked free kick; but what endeared the fans to him the most was his character. I don't think he will mind me saying that he wasn't blessed with boatloads of skill, but he made up for it by running round the pitch non-stop, and giving everything he had in the match, every match. At the final whistle he invariably staggered off the pitch, caked in sweat.
After one particular game I had to pop to the supermarket (don't get me started!) and about three aisles before making a break for the checkouts, I turned round and who should I run into? Jarko doing his shopping! I walked up to him, shook his hand and congratulated him on a good game. Quite apart from wanting to get away from me, he was more than happy to chat in his faltering English (NB: better than my Finnish). I particularly recall him still being out of breath, telling me 'I very tired, I go home to rest'.
In reading this, I understand why many people will not see the significance of this, and it is hard to explain why it means something to me. I just found it weird - good weird - that I was at that moment, in a supermarket, chatting to the guy I was cheering on just an hour or so before. He was not a famous man to most people, but to a few thousand people - including me - he was much admired. This made him different from meeting a player from a higher league; more accessible, less aloof, appreciative, and much, MUCH more humble.
Now if you don't mind, I am going to whisk you over to Macdonalds (as well as back in time a few years from Jarko), for story number two. Although I wasn't directly involved in this one, it is certainly worth the telling!
It was the morning after the night before, the night being one of the greatest in County's history. We had beaten West Ham in the League Cup 4th round, a quite astonishing result for a team like us (google 'Iain Dowie own goal' for a taste). My sister, Clare, thought she would treat herself to a naughty Maccy D's breakfast, and was sat chomping into her McMuffin while reading in the papers (national, not regional!!) about our victory. Heaven only knows what she was doing (according to her, she was 'doing a little dance of celebration' in her seat); whatever it was, it was enough to be noticed by a guy leaving with a coffee in his hand. He tapped Clare on the shoulder and said 'great result wasn't it?!!' And so started a ten minute conversation about the match, how brilliantly we played, and how great it is to be a County fan.
As the chap was leaving, he asked Clare 'by the way, did you go to the game?' Clare responded with 'too right I was, I don't want to miss a match like that!!........were you?' With a smile, he nodded. 'Of course I was there.....I was playing!!'
Of all the people to meet in McDonalds, she had been bumped into by Peter Ward. Not only did he play for County, he was our captain!!
Like I said, I can't see either of these things happening with Manchester United players.........

Weigh in (16)

I think we are stuck in a bit of a holding pattern here; 'lose some, gain some, lose some, gain some'. I'm getting a bit tired of it to be honest. 17 stone 9 pounds now, which - although actually 2.2 - represents 3 pounds on.
Of course there are understandable mitigating circumstances - birthday indulgences at the weekend (I think I ended up polishing off the best part of two-thirds of the birthday cake!), and general high-spirits of having a weeks holiday - but at some point i need to break this cycle and keep the downward trend going to the lower 17's (and beyond).
The temptation is to conclude that doing it this way - blogging, sharing, running etc - isn't working; give up on the whole thing and try something different. Mistake!! This is the desperate trap which people I am sure fall into; jumping from diet to diet, regime to regime, not giving them nearly enough time to take effect; failing every time, and in failing, more than likely PUTTING ON weight instead of losing it (see earlier post)). I have no intention of doing this. Instead what I am going to do is back myself. I am confident that what I am doing is the right way (for me at least), and even in the face of a bad week I am going to stay true to it. Even in the face of four consecutive bad weeks, I am going to stay true to it! My methods and I are being tested (I'm sure I saw a guy in a grey suit a trilby hat in Tescos yesterday.......). but I believe in them.
I just need to get back to what worked in earlier weeks. One meal at a time, plenty of salad, and a session or two on the Wii Fit to compliment my badminton. Keeping it very VERY simple.

Sporting Moments - Justin Timmins

I know what you are thinking (I do, really I do!!!); 'who the hell is Justin Timmins??' Don't worry, he's not famous, at least not to those who did not have the pleasure of watching his perfectly choreographed catastrophe about six yearsish ago.
You will now be correctly concluding that badminton forms a significant part of my social and exercise life (gold star to you!); Justin was the captain of the mixed doubles team I was playing in back in my days in Coventry. Team captain sounds so much easier than it actually is, as you have to deal with all the people who tell you they can't play....usually about half an hour before the match is due to start. He was a great captain and I am grateful to him for that, but for me (as Chris Brass before him) I have another reason to thank him; a reason which occurred during our Friday night away match at Shottery.
To set the scene, Shottery badminton club played (and probably still do) in a church hall, with one badminton court which barely fit inside it. Matches usually finished around about 1:30am. It was however a very sweet club, as the ladies in the team would bring in a proper spread of food that would rival a Famous Five picnic. When Justin took to the court for his second match, I was sat along one side of the court - on one of those gym benches you see in primary schools - about where the net is.
Justin was like the energiser bunny, non stop; very impressive. Then the moment came when in my head everything turns to slow motion. The shuttle flew towards Justin, going out wide. When it reached roughly Justin-head height, he thought it was going out of court. Moving like a panther, he got out of the way of the shuttle, staying outside it and allowing it to drop.
As I said, the church hall was a small one, and there wasn't much room between court and wall; to make matters far worse (or far better depending on your perspective) the bench on which I was sat stretched the whole length of the hall, thus narrowing the gap still further. What I saw next was Justins heels hitting the bench, propelling him backwards. What I couldn't work out was why I then saw his feet fly up  in the air, and his body vanish through the wall. Naturally I expected him to sort of 'bounce' back into court. What actually happened as it turned out, was that when his body shot backwards, he didn't hit wall; he hit the panic bar of the fire exit, jettisoning him out of the building (with a loud.....WHHOOOAAAAAHHH!)......and into a puddle.......
I assure you, I was genuinely concerned; but at the same the tears that were rolling down my face were not of grief (I think it was the puddle that pushed me over the limit). Now I'm not someone who is very good at stifling a laugh, and as a result all I could muster to Justin was 'Are you alrigheeehaaaheeehaaahoooheeeeight?!!!' I will give Justin his due, he instantly saw the funny side too.
........and the icing on the cake?...........the shuttle was in...........