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...........