Like the winds blowing across the sand dunes of Namibia, the Almonds inexorably chiselled away at the Premiers hopes of winning Tuesday’s match at Almondsbury Sorial Club, burying them under an avalanche of 61 sandbags.
The evening started in chaos, with the Craptain waiting as long as politely possible for our ball bearer to turn up, delaying putting any names on the board to the point where the Premiers were in danger of getting restless and bursting into a rendition of “why are we waiting”. Being reduced to playing with the Premiers’ balls was an indignity Lodge and Wiggle could have done without: Lodge started out all right but went off the boil, whilst Wiggle had a ‘mare of a start with 2 ducks and was getting one of Compact’s Right Humps on about it.  It all ended without the need for bloodshed when the pair kept it all even on the game at the end of the first round – Lodge scoring 19, Wiggle 21. Next up were Taffy & Jocky, and for a while the Welsh Boys were on fire, their competitive spirits obviously being ignited by being paired up. The wheels, however, wobbled a bit, with Tim achieving 24 without the aid of a duck and Jocky putting a 22 on the board. Their skittling prowess outwitted their opponents and saw us 15 pins in front end of the second round. It was a little difficult to concentrate on the game in hand due to the unhealthy obsession developing amongst the team around the introduction of our new receptacle for holding duck deposits – The Pussy. And I might point out here that I refuse point blank to have my Pussy named Pilchard, or for that matter Starfish. I shall throw a hissy fit, take my Pussy and not play any more. It was slightly disturbing just how much thought one particular skittler had devoted to said Pussy, particularly as he found it necessary to adjust his trousers as he launched into the cunning plan that he had slavishly formed in his head over the previous week. In bed, no less…  Rather than reward under achievers with a stroke of the Pussy, Sparky felt – quite passionately it would seem – that you should only be allowed to stroke Pussy if you were so adept with your technique you avoided getting any ducks at all. (Taffy perked up considerably at this suggestion, and got cockier about it as the night wore on and it looked like he would be the only one to attain such heady delights - when he’d swallowed the bitter pill of disappointment about having to share, he asked if he could go first). So, there were many (cat?) calls for a new category to be added to the Averages Sheet – Pussy Strokes – and it was decreed that whomsoever should get most strokes of the Pussy by the end of the season would be entitled to take the Pussy home for the summer break and stroke to their heart’s content. The Not So Young and Youth element were 3rd pair, Compact starting off with a double-ducker and giving Sparky ammunition to thrust a few barbs his way; my favourite was “I can see you’ve been practising hard all summer Chris by the quality of the 2 ducks you started with”.  However, Compact found his feet and finished on 21, pulling most pins against an opponent all night,14, which is more than can be said for Turk, who – in his own words – played “absolute bollocks” and finished on 13. Far from being a disaster, except maybe on a personal level for Turk in front of Sophie, Lodge & Chantelle, they pulled a further 11 pins to put us 26 in front by the end of the third round. Not content with being in the lead, Craptain still chose to use dirty tactics by recording one of the oppo’s scores as a duck instead of a 6. In his defence, he probably just got confused because with Compact playing and scoring ducks he was no doubt thinking of the Night of the 6 Ducks… Presumably unimpressed with their own performance, the Young Guns scarpered with the girls in tow as peRV & Orical prepared to play. As Barnesy chose this point to ask how to get inside Pussy, much of the 4th pair’s performance is a bit of a blur…. Having explained that there was a special button in a secret place to access Pussy’s hidden assets, Barnesy concentrated on the task in hand. Still unable to pop Pussy’s cork, I guided her further by explaining that she needed to find a little tab and that if she tugged it gently that should do the trick. I didn’t expect everyone to take quite so much interest in this process, but it was a relief all round as Pussy’s button finally came right off and we all found ourselves lighting up a ciggie to relax in the afterglow. peRV hit 23, Orical decided it wasn’t worth trying to beat Wiggle’s score and stopped at 21, and their efforts added 9 more pins to our lead so that we were a healthy 35 up on the Premiers at the end of the 4th round! Happy to put Chuckle1 on ‘anker after all as we had such a healthy lead, Craptain put Hammer & Sparky up 5th pair. Disquieted by the fact Hammer had only just cottoned on to the fact that the door next to the scoreboard also leads into the bar (where the hell did he think everyone who went through it were going – the Tardis?), Sparky queried whether Craptain really thought it was a good idea to have him back, which was further endorsed when Hammer started his turn with a spectacular duck. Trying to pretend he didn’t give a duck and was above such petty jibes, Hammer proceeded to rack up 20 – that is one less than Wiggle, about whom he was so scathing last week in regard to skittling ability, and not particularly brilliant for someone who takes his skittling soooo seriously. Sparky, who can recommend anyone with a spare 6 hours in hand to have a look at our magnificent new website, was full of feverish anticipation as he took his turn at trying to gain a stroke of the Pussy. Aware with every fibre in his body that Pussy’s legs were trembling every time a ball hit the alley, Sparky’s unsteady hands let him down and he was gutted when he was left having to wait another week for his next attempt at no ducks. He left a short time after adding his 21 to the pot, barely able to raise his voice above a whisper to say goodbye so that no one noticed he was gone for at least 10 minutes. We spent a few seconds contemplation on what might keep him awake in bed for the next week but decided that was too dark a place to go, added his and Hammer’s 1 pin pulled to our total for the sake of it and then tried to concentrate on watching our Craptain & Chuckle1 not throw away the game. Having already employed tactics of a dubious nature that at least had his own team in stitches, Craptain was to incur further unmitigated mirth amongst the gathered masses when he forgot the order of play… playing well and obviously keen as mustard to have another go, no one took any notice as Craptain strode onto the alley and started throwing balls until he took 6 pins out with his first ball. Cheers from our team nearly drowned out the alarmed cries of appeal from the Premiers, Craptain was dragged off the alley and told with glee that he’d gone and torn it now, because he’d never take so many pins out with one ball again…. his devilish tactics worked, as he put his oppo right off, and whilst we all expected he would also have sabotaged his own turn, Craptain surprised everyone, including himself, by taking out 7 with his next first ball! With a 9 in his repertoire as well, Craptain put in a true Captain’s innings by chalking up a stonking 35, prompting extremely premature talk of him walking away with the Averages shield at the end of the season. Chuckle1, who didn’t do too badly himself in knocking 28 down, nonchalantly announced he’d be more than happy to see Reg win this year, in response to which there was a little dissension in the ranks: first of all the opinion was expressed, in a deeply cynical fashion, thus – “oh yeah, cut the crap”, closely followed by insinuations that Chuckle1 could afford to be magnanimous as he’d fix up the averages to make himself win anyway; and finally, the suggestion that, were anyone else to escape even Conspiracy Pete’s doctoring of the averages and actually beat him, the Shield would be long gone before they could get their hands on it. Our ‘ankers pulled 25 more pins on the game so that we won our second game by the 61, injecting the team with a much needed dose of confidence – for that read arrogance…. Barnesy was excited to be going home to draw up a design for Pussy’s new base: suggestions of it being a face or penile projection have been overlooked in favour of something more classy… but will still be representative of a man’s favourite toy. Hopefully everyone’s skittles will provide fodder for my report next week so that I can give poor Pussy a rest, and that match will be on Thursday 21/9 against the Ups & Downs at their alley – Almondsbury Town FC. And before I sign off, it transpires that Sophie, girlfriend of Turk, is the only honorary Almond not to have a nickname…. I have every faith that you will all be able to suggest something appropriate and relatively clean, so maybe Craptain needs to set up another poll?!! |
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