Mahinda’s Little World

It’s far too late for me to be awake, and my knee hurts quite a lot!

I’m sitting in the computer room of Fun Friendly Frank’s Hostel (not Big Gay Al’s, honest!) in Riga, typing away on a keyboard with some very strange characters…it’s fine, as long as I don’t actually _look_ at said keyboard!

This was the first day of this year’s annual HattrickBoozer.com European Boozer. Seven of us who, to be completely honest, know each other through an internet football management game, in foreign climes. It’s working out pretty good so far - I’ll write a full update when I get back. Probably. Hopefully

It’s been almost two weeks since my last update (not counting the last hockey post, wot I’ve only just posted)…shocking!

Since that hockey tournament, I’ve been predictably busy, squeezing in this little lot:

• Squash (Tuesday x 2)
  Two sessions, on two Tuesdays, but I do seem to be losing my mojo. Admittedly, I was suffering a bit in last Tuesday’s session, having injured my right elbow/forearm playing badminton.
   
• Hockey (Wednesday x 2)
  See previous post for last week’s effort. This week saw the first real dodgy weather sesh of the season…but it really wasn’t all that bad, with the rain easing up nicely for us. Nine of us played, and it was all a bit old school, with small teams swapping round lots. The ground got pretty slippery, but held up alright. Fun! I think I enjoy it more when there are fewer people, partly because there’s less stress involved for me. Is that selfish? Probably. Tough!
   
• Rick’s Birthday (Friday)
  Katy, being an excellent wife, surprised Rick on his birthday last Friday, by taking out on a bit of a pub crawl in Manc, with a bunch of us along. He fell for it hook, line and sinker, and a very pleasant evening ensued. We finished up in East Z East, a fairly new high-class curry joint up near UMIST. Very nice food, and excellent service, with some of the best naans/rotis I’ve had in Manchester!
   
• Pitch ‘n’ Putt (Saturday morning/afternoon)
  Pete, Rosy, Adrian, Linden, Dan and I went off to Heaton Park for some pitch ‘n’ putt action last Saturday morning (yes, morning!) - I’m sure I’ll write more about this one later. It was lots of fun.
   
• FA Cup Final (Saturday afternoon)
  After the PnP, it was back to Pete’s for the FA Cup Final, between Liverpool and West Ham. All in all, a dramatic match, with (in my mind) the right set of winners!
   
• Ian and Nancy (Saturday evening)
  I had the rare pleasure of meeting Ian and Nancy in MancLand last Saturday evening. This was the first time I’d seen them since the wedding, and they really do make a very sweet couple. Almost nauseously so, but that’s allowed
  Anyway, we met up in Sinclair’s, went for a meal in Chinatown - my old favourite, Penang Village (Malaysian) seems to have been replaced with yet another generic Chinese restaurant - and then met Rick and Katy in the Moon Under Water for a last pint. So, me and two married couples. It’s amazing how topics of conversation change once people get married and settle down. Are they aware of it? I don’t really know.
   
• Tom and Cat (Saturday late evening)
  Once the couples had gone back to their hotel (rather fortuitously, they were all (both?) at the Travelodge near Victoria station), I phoned Linden to ascertain the Saturday evening plan. It turned out that it was Tom and little Cat’s birthday, which I’d completely missed, so people were in Via Fossa, with the plan being to head to Dry Bar.
  Now, I’d never made it out to Dry Bar, and it had a reputation as one of the cool Northern Quarter hangouts, being just about the first trendy bar to open in Manchester. I really wasn’t impressed - overpriced bottled beer (of all their many many taps, only Stella and Boddingtons remained, with both of those disappearing shortly), and music that really wasn’t to my taste. Left at 2pm or so, and got the bus back home…
   
• Mia (Still Saturday night!)
  …except that I didn’t go home! Mia was hosting a MUGSS party, and I was still very much awake, so I phoned to see if it was still going on. They were in King Cobra! What sort of party was that?! My bus had, literally, just passed the big KC, with Nicky and Dave (my two busmates for the journey) nipping out to KC and trying to get me to go with them. I ended up getting off the bus at Oak House and waiting for Mia (and cohorts) to turn up. Which they did, all three of them. Mia, Nick (Leila’s ex-) and Ed (I think - Mia’s housemate, either way) went back to her place and it ended up with Mia, Nick and me staying up for an hour or so chatting, then just Mia and me for a while longer, until I finally scarpered at around 4.30am. Ouch!
   
• Goonie Dinner (Sunday, at last!)
  Had a nice lie-in on Sunday morning (I needed it!) and then picked up Alsion and headed to WH Lung for some Oriental-type shopping. I was making a laksa for Goonie consumption (Pete, Rosy, Linden, Alsion and me, for those of you who’ve not been paying attention), primarily as a goodbye meal for Alsion. It went well, although it definitely wasn’t the best one I’ve ever made.
   
• Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (Sunday, after dinner)
  
  Alsion brought this DVD over, that none of us had ever heard of. It was GREAT! It’s a sort of romantic black comedy mixed in with a detective story and an action movie. I’ve braved Google for your delectation, and found the official site here - it’s a really good Flash site, in keeping with the sheer coolness of the film itself. I’m DEFINITELY going to have to get myself a copy and watch it again, just for the one-liners.
  
   
• Badminton (Monday)
  Played badminton with work, for the first time in ages. They’ve started using the new scoring system, which is really confusing! Basically, you only get one serve per go (playing doubles), but points are always scored, i.e. regardless of who’s serving. Games are played to 21 rather than 15. I don’t think I like it - there was always, at my level anyway, a glimmer of home with the old system, even at 14-5 down, but that’s just not the case any more. Also, I managed to knacker my right arm - seems to be some sort of strain in my elbow and forearm.
   
• Shooting (Monday)
  My downward slump continues, with a diet of low-90s scores. Probably due to busy weekends and work being quite busy now - the eyestrain really is a factor.

And that’s about it!

Platt Fields Hockey the Wednesday before last was pretty well-attended, with 28 whole people playing! Unfortunately, we were a bit short of sticks - I’ll have to fix up the "rubbish ones" that I have at home, i.e. the ones that are in need of repair.

My freshly-purchased goalie leg-guards, which looked suspiciously like black cricket pads, worked nicely too. Well, at £3.14+VAT a pair, I really can’t complain!

They do make you feel a bit like RoboCop, but I found out the hard way that you shouldn’t be too kamikaze unless you’ve got kickers as well. My foot hurts

I also tried using an anti-perspirant for the first time, as opposed to the usual deodorant. I’d just never been keen on the idea of firing little particles into ones pores. It worked reasonably well, in that I was considerably less of a Great Big Sweaty Beast than usual. However, it was at the expense of me feeling SERIOUSLY warm, and the bits that weren’t anti-perspirant coated (forehead, mainly) getting wetter than a wet thing.

Not sure whether I’ll go down that route again. Sweat’s definitely there for a reason.

The problem with that many people is that there’s no way you can play with just two teams…well, not on that sort of grass…as there WILL be pain. So, splitting into four is the way to go, but then it becomes difficult to do things fairly. The most fair way to do it is by picking teams…but then people get upset when they get picked last. It used to happen to me in the school playground, due to my pathetic footballing skills, so I know how it feels. You’ve just got to accept that you’re better at some things than others, I suppose.

Anyway, I’d best write up the rest of the last fortnight…

Sunday morning.

Definitely not a good thing for someone who was drinking for pretty much the entirety of Saturday.

Especially when you have to get up before 10am and drive to the Lake District

Yes, I’d foolishly had my arm twisted into the Glaxo Hockey Tournament hockey tournament up in Ulverston. I picked young Chris up from Wythenshawe at about 10.40am, and headed down the M56…and then up the M6…and then up the M6 some more…

I had expressed (to Pinch, head of the ladies’ team and one of the general organisers at Sale Hockey Club) my reservations about the distance I’d have to travel on a Sunday morning after the Saturday before. "Nah, it’s only an hour and a quarter!" she replied. I took her word for it and we agreed that I’d probably turn up around midday, thus missing a match or two.

How little did I realise…

12.15pm and we’re still not in Ulverston. We get to the town at almost 1pm, and then drive round and round trying to find the place. No-one had actually told me that it was at the chuffin’ great GSK site itself.

Got there at about 1.30pm (or ONE HUNDRED AND TEN miles later*), and found that Chris and I were two of six blokes, including the keeper. As it was 11-a-side mixed, we needed five blokes outfield, so I got to play every subsequent game.

* The others had all driven up on Saturday and stayed there overnight, getting some serious drinking done with the other teams.

Despite the serious hangover and serious grogginess, I played reasonably well…but then, the pitches were small and grassy, which I like. During my entire time on the pitch (six short games), we only conceded one goal…and that was only with an assist from my right testicle, which the ball brushed past on its way in. An inch higher and I’d have been in some serious pain…still, at least I got a hug of apology from the extremely cute blonde who’d deflected the shot in.

We even managed to win the tournament, beating some Scots 1-0 in the semi-final before getting sweet revenge against Chorley in the final - they’d taken the trophy at Sale’s grass tourney. We eventually won on penalty flicks.

That’s my first bit of non-shooting-related silverware, ever! I’ll have to get a photo of the little marble trophy up here at some point.

Suitably knackered, it was time for the long drive home. Chris and I stopped off at the club, but no-one else turned up - we reckon they took the M61 and got stuck in the (football) matchday traffic, which would have been horrendous.

Eventually got home, had a seriously long (and necessary) shower, then headed to Pete and Rosy’s for 24 and MOTD. That’s when I realised that I was still a bit unsteady on my feet, probably from Saturday’s drinking. I really have no idea how I managed to get on to a hockey pitch, never mind play a stormer…I suppose I’m just used to it!

I won’t really mention the controversy over that day’s Spurs result, suffice to say that I’m dead chuffed that we finished 5th this season, having played some proper exciting football. We’ve got our Tottenham back, and Martin Jol seems to be taking us places!

It’s 10.15am on Saturday and I catch a bus to town, hoping to get to Piccadilly train station before the 10:54 to Macclesfield departs.

I got there in plenty of time, and eventually found Jen, Will, Owen, PhlAsh and Matt, MUGSS all. No sign of Little Gay Stu, but we were unexpectedly joined by Ian, who was catching a train for altogether different reasons.

Of the CAMRA U30 bunch, Jenny and Matthew came and joined us, with Matt, Amy and Peter coming along a bit later. We were slightly concerned at there being a 10:41 and an 11:02, but no 10:54…until it flashed up, as if by magic. So we all piled on, and walked the entire length of the train to find Ruth, Rick and Alex ensconced in the Quiet Carriage. Oops.

Got to Macc and headed to the bus station, finding Richard in the process, who was waiting for a friend. Zany Amy was running late, so would meet us there.

After a bit of a wait, we got a bus to the rugby club, which was quite possibly the most crowded bus in the world! The club turned out to be pretty far out of town, with the fest itself in a great big marquee.

A really great big marquee…with chuffing CHANDELIERS!

Tokens were purchased, and much beer consumed. We spent much of the sunny afternoon sitting on a grassy knoll. It was pretty close to idyllic. I’d list the beers I had…but I’ve lost my programme. Ones I can remember are:

• Bazens’ Knoll St. Porter - of course!
• Hanby Cherry Bomb - seriously lovely cherry taste.
• Iceni Men of Norfolk - the manliest beer around.
• Iceni Honey Mild - rather tasty.
• Grand Union Honey Porter - also very nice.
• Conwy Honey Fayre - a golden ale with honey, and not as nice as the darker ones.
• Tipples Ginger - a lovely golden ale with ginger, but not as nice as Blandford Fly.
• Deby Penny’s Porter - good and roasty.

I know I had eleven halves, so there must have been others!

In due course, Amy arrived, as did Dr.Kate and Adam.

I was dead chuffed to find a picture of myself in "Out Inn Cheshire", the Cheshire CAMRA magazine - the same one was in "Beer Matters", the Sheffield CAMRA equivalent, last month, and features Verity and I round the back of Bar Fringe, after the Saturday of the Winter Ales Fest.

I also got recognised by a chap who works downstairs from me…I didn’t recognise him at first, unfortunately. Turns out that he’s one of the organisers. I really must find out where he sits and say hello at some point.

3.30pm came, and it was time for us to leave, having been drinking copiously for just over three hours.

So, an even more crowded bus back to Macc, and the post-fest pub crawl started. Without going into too much detail, highlights of the crawl were:

• Walking for miles and miles and mies, past pub after pub after pub. A golden rule of pub crawls is that no leg should be longer than a mile, and preferably less than five minutes’ walk.
• Lovely lovely beers in a selection (four?) of pubs…after all the walking, anyway.
• Kiddies’ playground! En-route to the Dolphin, we spotted a huge long slide built on a slope. Jenny, Matthew, Amy and had fun sliding down it, then messing around on the seesaw and swings. Class!
• The landlord of the Dolphin being from the Watford / Hemel Hempsted area - I thought I recognised his accent. He served a fine pint of Old Tom.
• [In the Dolphin] Rick, an older chap from Bury branch, trying drunkenly to work out the relationship between Zany Amy and me. All very drunken.
• Peter massaging Ruth. Ruth enjoying it muchly.
• Chips. There was a Spurs programme on the counter, of all things, so I asked about it. It turns out that the bloke behind the counter was an organiser of the Macclesfield Spurs supporters’ groups! A URL then got scrawled on a bit of grease-proof paper.
• Leaving my phone in one of the pubs. First time I’ve done that, I reckon. Fortunately, Ruth had picked it up.

We got the train home at, well, I’m not sure what time. Think it must have been 10ish. My plan was then to join Alison and CAOS for their afterconcert drinks, at Kro 2. Well, I was wrong - they were drinking at Kro Piccadilly instead. So Jenny, Matthew and I headed to Sand Bar instead for a swift pint, before they went home and I staggered to Kro Piccadilly.

To be honest, I’m surprised they let me in. I was absolutely hammered, probably swaying slightly, and wearing shorts and sandals. Oh well. I found loads and loads of people there, and I was probably the drunkest! Had a pint of tapwater…maybe two…and eventually got the bus home with Pete and Rosy and others - Adrian and Emma? I kept falling asleep, headbutting a pole that was in front of me, waking up with a start, and falling asleep again.

Managed to get home, eventually, and it was straight to bed.

I’ve just had one of the most amazingly varied and busy weekends ever!

Friday

Work, as per usual, and then I headed over to the university quarter to meet Alison for an evening with the Harmony Gospel Choir. Now, as someone who’s not a fan of general happy-clappiness, you’d think that sort of thing anathema to me. And you’d be right.

However, Zen had txted me an invite, Alison was going anyway, and I had nothing better to do of a Friday evening. So I met her outside Varsity and we headed to St. Peter’s Chaplaincy, which is sort of joined to one side of the Precinct Centre. We couldn’t get tickets quite so far in advance (it was 7.15pm, and the concert started at 8pm), so we headed to Sand Bar.

In an absolutely genius move, Sand Bar has started selling rather tasty olives at 80p a cup, in addition to their well-kept (and ever-changing) ales and interesting selection of bottled beer. The place really does have the perfect beer for everyone, and at a decent enough price, in pleasant surroundings.

Anyway, we were all very continental and sat on the steps outside for half an hour or so, before venturing back to St. Peter’s.

We got our tickets, and ended up sitting next to Adam and Ben, who were along to support Lydia. The concert was…different. All a bit gospel, surprisingly enough, with much praising of the lord. Top marks to one or two of the soloists, and the slightly deranged bloke doing the conducting.

Not sure whether I’d go to one again. Nice enough, but not really my sort of thing.

Afterwards, we headed to Umami for some noodley goodness, in the hope of finding a veggie curry laksa for Alison. While they did do a laksa, only meaty options were available as they used shrimp paste in the base. It is a pretty essential component*, so that’s allowed.

* I have made veggie laksas without anything fishy, but they don’t taste quite as nice.

We ate, and were suitably satisfied. Good food, good service, and at a good price. Job done!

Suitably fed, we walked back towards Alison’s place, stopping off at Hardy’s Well for a pint. Bizarrely, I bumped into a vague workmate (same site, but he’s one of the internal audit guys with whom I never cross paths), who turned out to live just around the corner.

Soon it was back to Alison’s place for a few drinks - very much of the "whatever’s left" variety, I had mostly gin and tonic, while she had various Archer’s, Galliano and Coke concoctions. We chatted away merrily, and I have a vague recollection of a documentary on the telly all about porn. Most odd, and just a bit distracting!

I crashed over, with the plan being to wake up early as I had to be out and about.

Saturday

This is the exciting day.

I had to be at Piccadilly station at 10.30am, to meet some MUGSS types and the CAMRA U30 bunch for a trip to the Macclesfield Beer Festival.

We left Alison’s place at 8.30am, as she had to get into town, and I caught a Finglands bus towards Withington. An unexpected bonus was getting a free fare, as the driver couldn’t be bothered to fish out a £2 pass. As we passed through Withington village, a doddery old chap (who, to be honest, looked as though he’d been drinking) got up…and then missed his handholds and fell over comprehensively as the bus stopped. It wasn’t a particularly sharp stop or anything.

Anyway, this chap had fallen flat on his back and looked a bit dazed. I helped him get up while the only other passenger got the driver to stop…and that’s when I noticed that blood was streaming out of the side of the guy’s head. Other than that, he was dazed but unharmed, so I helped him off the bus on to Palatine Road, just by St. Cuthbert’s Church.

He had some water, which I used to cleanse the wound slightly. It was a gash just in front of the ear, about 4-5" long from just above to just below the ear. And, of course, bleeding profusely. The bus driver had some tissues, which I held to blokey’s head in an attempt to stem the flow. I sent the driver away after a little while*, as things were under control. I managed to scab some more tissues off some passers-by, and kept pressure on the wound.

* This was probably a mistake. Oops.

I then wondered whether I should call for an ambulance or walk him over to Christie’s…or even get someone to stick with him while I ran home (about 500 yards away) and picked up some dressings, with the plan being to patch him up and take him to hospital. I asked him a little about himself. His name was Daniel (I think), he was an alcoholic, and he suffered from epilepsy. He was also shaking quite a lot. I couldn’t get the phone out fast enough!

So, I stood there with Daniel in the sunshine waiting for help to arrive. Having recently (a whole ten days earlier!) finished a "First Aid in the Workplace" course, I knew what questions to ask. The paramedics arrived and took him away.

I don’t know what I’d have done differently before the first aid course, to be honest. I might not have been quite as confident, or asked the right questions. The confidence was the main thing, I reckon.

All through this, I’d managed to keep my white shirt (of course) absolutely pristine. It was only at the end, when Daniel reached his hands around to my sides in a gesture of thanks, that I managed to get bloody fingerprints on it!

So, off I walked in the direction of home, my hands and forearms covered in blood. I got some very odd looks from the passing joggers - I was sorely tempted to just say "it’s alright, none of it’s mine!"

Home. Washed. Changed. And straight out again. All before 10.15am.

And there’s the end of my lunchbreak. The rest of the weekend will follow at some point…

I’ve finally gotten round to polishing off a couple of posts that have been in draft form for, literally, months. In each case, they’re concluding parts to long write-ups, so I’ll link to the first installments as well:

 Winter Ales Fest - Part I
 Winter Ales Fest - Part II
 Winter Ales Fest - Part III

 Ian’s Wedding - Part I
 Ian’s Wedding - Part II

They’re cunningly back-dated, which is why they’re not on the blog’s front page.

Over the Easter weekend, I went Down South to see the folks, and cunningly managed to squeeze in a visit to Mike and Debs, over in Bury St. Edmunds.

The pair of them are dear friends of mine, who I hardly get to see. Debbie in particular, I’d not seen for about a year and a half. So it was about time I visited.

It’s a sodding long way to Bury, deceptively so since, like Devon and Cornwall, you just assume that East Anglia isn’t really that big. Well, I do, anyway. It’s definitely all very flat, though.

I got there on Sunday afternoon, and chilled out* for a while with Mike before Debs got home (being a nurse, she works odd hours). Then we headed into town for some tapas (at La Tasca - ’twas nice enough, but nothing super-special) and then a few tasty beers.

* I.e. watched the Liverpool match, featuring an unbelievably lucky goal.

I crashed in their spare room, which featured the coolest tablelamps in the world ever! They’re little round things, with the obligatory lampshades on top…but the cool thing is, they don’t have conventional on/off switches. Instead, you tap the round body of the lamp - once for dim, again for medium, a third time for bright and then again to turn it off again. Genius!

I’d NEVER have figured it all out if Debs hadn’t come back in to tell me.

Woke up the next day, headed out around Bury to pick up a few things, had coffee at Capitalist Pig-Dogs (aka Starbucks**) and returned just in time to catch Spurs vs. Manchester United.

** Does anybody else still think of Face in the original Battlestar Galactica every time Starbucks gets mentioned? I do.

Me being a Spurs fan and him being ManU made it extra good, and it was a GREAT game of football to begin with. End-to-end stuff, with some lovely football being played by both sides. We were unlucky to lose 2-1, having dominated most of the game but it was a top-notch game so never mind.

Debs knocked up a lovely lunch, too - some sort of African-inspired*** grilled chicken with feta couscous. Mmmmmmmm.

*** By dint of it featuring harissa paste.

Soon after the game, I headed back to MancLand. It was a looooong journey up the A14 and M6, but I got home eventually. Think it was straight to bed from there.

As far as bank holiday weekends go, that was pretty rubbish.

Okay, so Friday was fun, as was much of Saturday, but then there was the fiasco that was Saturday evening - as documented in my last post.

Sunday meant a hockey tournament down on the grass at North Staffordshire Hockey Club. Definitely a fun day out. I didn’t play very well, but I was horrendously out of position (left wing or left midfield rather than my customary right back) and we got to the final anyway. In the final, I managed to get knocked out of the game - Donks, who’s A Big Lad, was taking a 16-yard hit (the hockey equivalent of a goal-kick) and I was running into position…unfortunately, this resulted in me taking a hockey ball to the side of the knee. A hockey ball that had been hit HARD. I was jumping anyway, and ended up coming down a couple of yards from my stick.

Still, it was a grand day out, complete with tasty burgers and The Mighty Tottenham handing Bolton a beating. Somewhat fortuitously, but a victory nonetheless.

Got home and chilled out with the aid of The Longest Shower In The World, before watching 24, a couple of old episodes of Buffy, and other cheese that happened to be ont’ telly. Couldn’t really move my right leg very much.

Monday was a very lazy day, which was nice. For various reasons, I had to pop into Altrincham Rifle Club for a little while - I must have driven past it hundreds of times without realising it was there! It’s all very nice and plush - a far cry from the cobwebby tin shed that is Wilmslow Rifle Club…and much more convenient besides. Tempting though it would be to defect, that’d just be WRONG.

Got home. And then the day got worse. I’d gotten a txt from Linden saying that there was a Slugs Ate My Parents (amongst others) gig at Orange Grove in Fallowfield…it was just after 10pm, and I was feeling wide awake, so I thought I’d give it a try.

I walked 20 minutes to Fallowfield, repeatedly trying to call Alison and Linden. Unsurprisingly, I couldn’t get past the bouncer at Orange Grove, thanks to their strict students only policy (and the fact that I was a single male and therefore not subject to the "cute girly waiver"), so, without being able to contact anyone inside, I walked home again, with a mixture of annoyance and resignation, occasionally (and unsuccessfully) trying to contact the girls again.

As I was walking back through Withington, I remembered that Pete had invited me over to catch the 11pm repeat of 24 with him and Rosy, if I needed to. So I called up and detoured to their place.

A bit of 24 (which I’d already seen) followed, and I watched Pete playing in an online poker tourney, before we all watched the last few frames of the World Snooker Championship (from The Crucible Theatre, Sheffield…comfortingly). Unfortunately, the amusingly-accented Graeme Dott won. He sounds like Wee Jimmy Krankie!

*goes off to find weblink for Wee Jimmy Krankie*

My God! They’re still going! Here.

Got home around 1.30pm, what with the snooker taking aaages, ate some very tasty left over lamb curry and rice, and finally headed to my bed for some well-earned rest.

A word of advice to anyone at a loud gig - check your phone every so often, as someone might be trying to contact you.