If you don’t want to know the score...

look away now.
I remember, when Robbie Fowler signed for Leeds United, Daniel Craig (or it might have been Pierce Brosnan) said to me ‘that’s the final piece in the jigsaw’. If he was thinking of a jigsaw depicting catastrophic financial ruin and getting relegated to the third tier of English football then indeed he was right (sounds like my kind of jigsaw). It was with some interest therefore that I followed the story of the aforementioned Mr Fowler signing for local club Perth Glory this week. He has been signed in an attempt to build on the team’s success this season in which they reached the Quarter finals of the A League. At the press conference to mark his arrival there was no mention of jigsaw pieces (final or otherwise) or indeed of board games of any kind. Instead they seem to concentrate on the fact that whilst Robbie had been keen to come to Perth for football reasons, Mrs Robbie had been keen to go to Sydney for shopping reasons (they stay open ‘til after it gets dark you know). At the end of the day, football was the winner, and we in the west are over the moon Brian. The signing of the former Anfield legend is sure to get a few more supporters through the gates – me for starters. Hopefully my patronage won’t do to Perth Glory what it has done to the Melbourne Storm Rugby League team. Less than 24 hours after I had purchased tickets, to watch them play over here in June, they had been stripped of their title and docked all of their points for the present season (including any they accrue for here-on-in). Effectively, their season is over and they have nothing to play for... making the game meaningless (which is not unlike most of the Doncaster Rovers games I watched in the late 1970s). I clearly have an awesome power if I can bring about such a rapid demise simply by buying a ticket to see them... this week I shall be buying tickets to see Justin Beiber, Manchester United and Noel Edmonds.
Not sure if I mentioned it before but my beach volleyball career has been put on hold due to pregnancy. Steven and Vicky, the central core of the team, went on holiday to Europe last year taking in all of the romantic destinations... Vienna, Venice, Paris, and Stoke. And what do you know, when they get back Steven was pregnant, or was it Vicky? (You’ve probably guessed that I listened even less in Biology lessons than I did in Geography). Actually, I’ve remembered now it was definitely Vicky because she was our inspirational leader and as such she was irreplaceable which is why we decided to call it a day. Well, that and the fact that as a ‘mixed’ team we had to have at least two women playing for us and for some inexplicable reason we found it very hard to recruit women. Even when I promised to keep my knees covered up they declined to join. So, no more volleyball, I have taken up another physically demanding sport... snooker. Judging by my efforts last Thursday I don’t think Neil Robertson has to worry about losing his position as the top Australian snooker player for a little while yet. My problem is that I’ve got a left-handed cue, the balls spin the other way in the southern hemisphere, I can’t see anything further than 8 inches in front of me... oh yeah, and I’m rubbish. Aussie Robertson’s path to the semi-final has been met with total indifference by the media over here. Obviously, the papers in the West don’t cover it because he’s from Melbourne but even the national ABC radio and TV channels haven’t bothered reporting on his progress. It took me about an hour to even find the results in the local paper and then they were disguised as a crossword question. It’s weird really because the paper has lots of coverage of US sports and netball (which I don’t mind because there are usually some photos to go with it) and there’s always a page of surfing news. This week the surfing news is that George and Wendy have taken up the sport. Is it a sport do you reckon or is it a pastime like crocheting or doing jigsaw puzzles? Does that sound like sour grapes because I can’t do it? Yes, you are probably right. Not that I’m really tempted to try it, I have enough trouble simply standing up let alone trying to balance on an ironing board whilst perched precariously on top of a 10 foot wave. Plus, I think we are all agreed, the world probably isn’t ready for the sight of me in a wetsuit. Wendy and George have got a seven foot board to share and at the moment they are managing to do so amicably (taking it in turns to use it, not both stood on it at the same time). Hopefully we will be able to get to the beach tomorrow morning to watch them battle the waves of the Indian Ocean (well that’s the plan at the moment... it all depends on how early morning is).
I realise that there has been a heavy sport-bias in this instalment – so, sorry if you don’t like sport (it must be horrible for you).
Right I’m off now to see if I can find out how Robbo is progressing in the semi-final.