Mahinda’s Little World

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!