Friday the thirteenth may well have proved unlucky for some, the Filton Nomads counting themselves amongst the unfortunate no doubt after we beat them resoundly, but the Almonds just laughed in the face of superstition and were smiled upon by fate.

It nearly didn’t happen that way – it nearly didn’t happen at all.  Jobsworth on the door of the Filton & District Social Club didn’t like the look of the Yoof Academy, who were lurking sheepishly outside when the rest of the rabble started to drift in, refusing them entry as The List hadn’t been submitted in a timely fashion.  peRV took charge, and whilst I’m not sure whether it was because or in spite of his silver tongued repartee – for all I know he may have threatened to hit her with his broken arm – we were admitted entry once we’d obsequiously assured mein fuhrer we’d record our names in blood on a piece of scrap paper she rustled up from her drawers. 

There was a bit of grumbling from the Yoofs because they’d not been able to effect entry for themselves, but let me reiterate that old age and treachery will always overcome youth and enthusiasm…  or in this case, cockney charm and no shame overcame youthful squeamishness at having to charm their way past Princess Fiona.  After another 10 minutes of confusion whilst we tried to remember all the names, availed ourselves of beverages and peRV tried to set us up on the wrong alley, we were finally ready for kick off.  With Craptain still off gallivanting in Spain we were once again under Compact’s jurisdiction:  Turk & Mini Disc opened play and didn’t do too bad a job of keeping the damage to a minimum, & our deficit down to only 11 after their haphazard display.  Turk kept up his usual blistering pace and hit 15, whilst Mini Disc deployed an underused Foxtrot method of slow, slow, quick, quick, slow – I think he lost track of where he was in the sequence once or twice, but he did manage to match his Nomad oppo with 20, leaving Turk to shoulder the burden of dropping pins.

There was a definite lack of atmosphere at the start of the evening, with the Almonds all spread out in a line like the Western Front.  Compact soon started chivvying everyone up in his own inimitable style, bouncing backwards and forwards like a demented bee, and there was no messing about by our VC – he was getting the names of the next pair to play up before the previous ones had even finished!!    2^nd pair we had Lodge & newcomer PJ, unhampered by Duncan or the Manfreds:  whilst Lodge started off a bit shakily, he steadied his nerves and finished up on a much more respectable 21 this week.  PJ’s inaugural outing for the Almonds resulted in a Sweet 16, and it was just plain bad manners that the Nomads played their 2^nd highest scoring Nomad against him, who doubled PJ’s score.  A further 12 pins were lost to put us 23 down as the Welsh Boys were put on together 3^rd pair, presumably in the hopes that direct competition would result in competitive scoring.  Compact’s faith was rewarded.

The Welsh Assembly had been in session all through the first two rounds of play.  Tim had a good time down by yer at the caravan, enjoying having time to play with the kids:  Jocky said that sometimes he even takes his own.  Jocky wasn’t taking any chances with drink spillage and was drinking from a half pint glass, only adding an inch or two of coke from his tin at a time in case Wiggle got rowdy again.    Jocky threw his first ball straight through, and it livened up the evening considerably when it rebounded and took out a couple of pins on its way back!  He nearly did the same with the second ball, and Compact had to have a word and remind him that those didn’t count, so Jocky started doing it properly after that.  He scored himself a quarter of a century and can be attributed with pulling 20 pins back for the Almonds.  Unfortunately, being out of practise because of his frequent absences, Taffy fared slightly less well, scoring himself 18 and dropping 8 pins, so that we were brought back to being 11 pins down on the game at half time.

When Sparky arrived and found Compact in charge, he was observant enough to notice that Wiggle had been charged with keeping the scorebook and asked if I was Compact’s Vice:  without any rancour at all, I pointed out that I was only called upon for such duties when we were so desperate we had no other option, and he sympathetically orated that it looked like I had enough to do anyway, what with keeping the scorebook & taking MR notes:  add to that collecting subs, posting duck deposits through Pussy’s slot & keeping her primed for any deserved strokes whilst ensuring no abuse of privileges occurred, and it’s a wonder I had any energy left to play.  Lucky for me that I was on the receiving end of a steady supply of vodka, which counteracted any exhaustion until a bit later when it would come in more useful. 

I thought it was a bit of a sauce for Compact to challenge that “anyone can do squiggles on a piece of paper and make a story out of it afterwards” when I had only been trying to bring to his attention how much of an asset I am, quietly getting on with the jobs I’d been delegated and ne’er once moaning about it… it's not easy writing this rubbish you know!   He chose to put me on 4^th pair, and just to keep me in line and make me try harder, he put himself on to play with me.  I guess we all wish we had scored more when we’re done, and although I was happy enough with my 26 I felt I’d missed a few opportunities to make it more – and put myself out of reach for Compact to match me!  Having been mocked for the trauma being forced to take an alternative route to the alley caused, lest I impale myself on the end of a pool player’s cue (and nobody wanted to see that happen…), I was pleased to survive my 6-ups with no ducks and pull pins.  I was also quite pleased when Compact couldn’t better, only equal, my 26.  But it will forever be in debate whether the pressure to outscore me was too much, or he missed on purpose with his last ball in an act of previously unseen benevolence, maybe to head off any vitriol that might come his way after his aspersions that I was dispensable as Match Reporter:  I hate to think he felt sorry for me and threw me a lifeline…

Hang on!  What am I saying?  This is Compact I’m talking about; of course he’d have crushed me if he could!!  His duck, however, ensured he didn’t, and he couldn’t contain his Nomad either and dropped one!  Even so, we pulled 9 pins and whilst the Welsh Boys had turned the game around for the better with their efforts, without Compact & me sustaining that and putting us in a much healthier position of being 2 down on the game, thereby motivating our remaining players to go for it, it would have been a whole different story.  And probably would have been if someone else was writing this report…!!!  By now the atmosphere was so exciting that the Welsh Boys abandoned their plan to leave early and stayed to offer their support instead.

With peRV & Orical now showing off on the alley, there was some discrepancy about what constitutes an inch.  I wasn’t actually quite sure what Orical was talking about when I heard him say he’d overshot something about 6”, but being aware of the male propensity to exaggerate when it comes to inches, I just tried to bring everyone back down to earth and said he’d probably meant 2” & Sparky pointed out that was at least how many he’d have to cut off to make it 6”.  At this point I got bored and decided to massage a bit of cream into my hands now that I didn’t have to worry about ball slippage, and it was very nice of the team to forget about how many inches they were missing and take such interest in the technique I employed to ensure even distribution of moisture. 

Anyway, peRV was happily back in balance and suddenly didn’t mind so much that his new cast went up beyond his elbow, the extra weight restoring his skittling aim.  Already on 31 when he stood for his last up, we all held our breath as he threw his last ball with 2 pins standing.  He took the 8^th pin and had to settle for 39, but another inch – or two! – and he’d have taken the 9 for a 40.  Jocky offered to give him one in commiseration, but after getting over his disappointment – and flushed with success & / or pleasure at getting to stroke Pussy –  & deciding he'd managed this far without having any Welsh in him, he declined the kind offer and informed us all he was going to lie in bed and feel happy that night:  little bit too much information for me!!  & I didn’t know men named them, but I suppose Happy is as good a name as any.  It was a little difficult for Orical to follow that, so he didn’t try very hard…  He finished up with 19, pulling 2 pins, and bathed in the reflected glory of helping to put us 6 in front as this week’s stand-in ‘ankers stretched their muscles in preparation for firing off.

aRCe very nearly stole peRV’s thunder as he stormed his way towards the 30s.  His last up required him to get a spare to beat peRV and for one heart-stopping moment it looked like he was going to do it, but he was denied the steal and scored 37.  Sparky, his extra 2” causing him concern still perhaps, had to take a back seat with his 24, but still managed to pull a pin on his Nomad!  In the end we won by 31, and what started out as an inauspicious Friday the thirteenth ended up as a cracking night out!