Renaissance

So there I was hanging from the apple tree, as dead as honour in high places. A magpie had perched on my shoulder, defecating white slime all down my back. Surprisingly, I was still conscious, floating outside my body, inspecting the vessel of flesh and bone that had carried me through the years.

But who was that at the back gate? She seemed familiar with her greenish pallor and her flowing medieval garments. Yes. It was Alkelda the Gleeful of “Saints and Spinners” fame. She was cradling a small silver vial. She proceeded past the compost bins and the comfrey plot to where I was swinging like Dick Turpin. The magpie that was now perusing my jelly eyes flew off to the chimney pot.

Alkelda chanted some ancient incantation and tossed the contents of the silver vial all over my front. I guess it was just water – some kind of holy water. “Water of life! Heal this erring son!” She stood on the picnic table and unfastened the thick sisal rope that had killed me just as my conscious spirit returned to fill my body like a tide moving over a beach. I was alive again! I twisted my head back and forth and pinched myself as Alkelda disappeared back through the gateway.

“Come back Alkelda!” I yelled but she was gone like a departing rainbow.

Back in the house my wife said, “Where’ve you been? You’ve missed all the quarter final and what’s that red mark on your neck?”

“Oh it’s just those bloody brambles again!”

“Want a cup of tea?”

“Thanks love.”

“Do you wanna know the score? The match?”

“Why what was it? Lost on penalties again I bet.”

“Not this time honey. It was England 4 Portugal 0! That Sven is a master tactician and motivator. Looks like we’re playing France in the semis… Should be a walk over. Walcott scored a hat trick and Michael Carrick played his usual progressive midfield role… it was brilliant! Want a biscuit?”

Entry for July 02, 2006

Well I think I have just about recovered from Saturday night; what a night! Is it fair to say the entire nation was gripped and on the edge of it's collective seat? Maybe.

I guess the vast majority had watched live but some like myself had other pressing commitments and so had to rely on the VCR in order to view later on. And it was absolute hell trying to avoid over-hearing the outcome, I can tell you.

Matters went right down to the last thrilling moment. All the old fears and woes resurfacing like a bad dream. False starts and casualties, just to ensure my finger nails didn't survive the night. As the final few moments played out, I just couldn't believe my eyes, I could hardly look: where on Earth had the Daleks come from?

Not enough that the Cybermen where back, bigger and meaner than ever but the old pepperpots as well? Thought they were gone for good. Russell T Davies and all the folks at BBC Wales had kept that little surprise pretty much under wraps. Nice one. I can't wait to see part 2 next Saturday.

I believe there was a football match on as well. How did we do?

Gutted

World Cup Quarter Final

Arrrrrgh! It's happened again! England lose on penalties! The Portugese team looked pretty ordinary all afternoon and even though we were a man down, England created the better goalmouth chances by far. Owen Hargreaves was again a revelation - full of energy and commitment. Our back four were also brilliant. But Lampard and even Gerrard were disappointing today. England's army of fans deserve more than this - more than our uninspirational Swedish manager could provide - in spite of his barrowloads of money. In the end, I would have to say that he has been a dismal failure and I am glad to see the back of him. It's so frustrating. We have so much talent and yet in this World Cup it was never properly harnessed. Like most of the English nation I am well and truly gutted (see above with apologies to the squeamish!) and I'm just going up the garden to string myself up from the apple tree! Farewell cruel world!