I took part in the grandest spectacle of all time earlier today… well, I played in a mini-league tournament thing arranged by work folks, involving work folks. Playing football. Should probably mention that bit. Initially well up for it, it soon transpired that running around in the sun for an hour and a half isn’t the best thing I could have done with my time.
Don’t get me wrong – bad as I am at football, I still like playing it. It’s just… my word it was knackering. I’ve lost all that weight and got a bit fitter, but it turns out living up to certain excesses and not exercising for a month or so makes your body revert to being horribly unfit. Stupid bloody thing. Running for ten minutes, resting for 40. Just the way it should be, really.
Anyway, no real point to this, just another diary-type entry here. I would talk more or go into more detail, but I’m off out in five minutes. That’s another thing, actually – playing for approximately 75 minutes (with a few breaks) has killed my body and my head, meaning I’m going to be pretty much incapable of talking to or at anyone this eve. Always a good start.
Still, netted three in four games including a last-kick-of-the-game penalty to equalise, mired in controversy and watched by everyone in attendance. Because I am the lord of all pressure. In fact, I don’t even know what pressure is. It sounds stupid, though. Yeah, fake confidence. Oh yeah, we finished fourth out of five teams. NOT LAST!
Bet you’re glad you read this.