Following about 6 minutes training and preparation before lunch one day I was ready to participate in the infamous Janner game, held over twenty minutes in Tesco's car park.
All the big names in alternative sports were there including Charlie 'chippie' Buttey, who along with being a respected Welly boot thrower, also claimed his day job to be a proficient carpenter & joiner but sadly he couldn't even join up his writing.
Mickey Taker, a prolific moaner and benefits claimer was also present along with Flatiree gimmepinumba, the current worlds top e-mailer scammer who flew in from the back of a Vespa scooter when his front wheel hit a very nasty rut and catapulted him out over the handlebars.
Unfortunately his scooter was rendered totally useless as the front wheel had a puncture, you could say Flatiree had a Flatiree.............,
Luckily there was a break in the weather, which allowed us to safely remove our waterproof shell-suits and undertake 30 seconds of warming up, which consisted mainly of taking long drags on some West Indian Woodbine's and a few swigs from a bottle of Gunge home brew, which despite having a taste similar to turps mixed with battery acid, proved surprisingly popular! Saying this of course may lead you to believe that the event was not being taken seriously but nothing could be closer to the truth...
There followed a very stringent dope test, which I am proud to say I passed, (apparently A1, right up there with the best of the best!) It must have been a very good result as the examiner couldn't contain his delight when telling me the good news!
"Oh yes" he said barely able to keep a straight face,
"You passed the dope test alright, don't worry about that son!"
In the event itself sadly it was a case of what might have been..Representing my native Kernowstan in the A4 paper aeroplane hurling competition I made a very promising start, hurling an impressive 4 metres and 20 centimetres with my first attempt.
Of course it goes without saying that having been on an incredible 'journey' to get in the peak of physical out of condition for this event 'Plops' became an even less popular dog than that other hound that roamed just up the road at Baskerville Hall.
I suddenly felt the need for some lighter liquid refreshment than the effluent on offer at the event and so I trudged rather unsteadily off in the direction of the pub, (the effects of Gunge beginning to take a firm hold), to reflect on my day. My misery was now complete as it had begun to rain steadily, so I turned back in the hope I could rescue my waterproofs but to my horror I caught sight of plops furiously humping them while proceeding to drag them through a large muddy puddle.
That was the moment I realised that my chances of ever winning gold at paper plane hurling were roughly the same as Plops becoming best in breed at Crufts, not a barking dogs chance.
There followed a very stringent dope test, which I am proud to say I passed, (apparently A1, right up there with the best of the best!) It must have been a very good result as the examiner couldn't contain his delight when telling me the good news!
"Oh yes" he said barely able to keep a straight face,
"You passed the dope test alright, don't worry about that son!"
In the event itself sadly it was a case of what might have been..Representing my native Kernowstan in the A4 paper aeroplane hurling competition I made a very promising start, hurling an impressive 4 metres and 20 centimetres with my first attempt.
Better was to follow when having 'fouled' with my second round hurl I threw a massive 4 metres 95 centimetres (a personal best!) in the third round. Unfortunately for me, before this monster throw could be verified by the Marshall, Mr Richard Monitor, affectionately known as 'Dick Measure' by the competitors, a Highland Terrier called 'Plops' rushed from the crowd /trio (delete as appropriate) picked up my slightly crumpled origami and rushed off with it teaching it a damn good lesson, furiously shaking it's head from side to side before dropping and peeing on it.
Of course it goes without saying that having been on an incredible 'journey' to get in the peak of physical out of condition for this event 'Plops' became an even less popular dog than that other hound that roamed just up the road at Baskerville Hall.
I suddenly felt the need for some lighter liquid refreshment than the effluent on offer at the event and so I trudged rather unsteadily off in the direction of the pub, (the effects of Gunge beginning to take a firm hold), to reflect on my day. My misery was now complete as it had begun to rain steadily, so I turned back in the hope I could rescue my waterproofs but to my horror I caught sight of plops furiously humping them while proceeding to drag them through a large muddy puddle.
That was the moment I realised that my chances of ever winning gold at paper plane hurling were roughly the same as Plops becoming best in breed at Crufts, not a barking dogs chance.
Ah well there's still time to find another sport to try, I've heard intermediate bullshitting is fairly easy to learn, I might give that a go, Bring on Paris!!
Authors note: All characters are completely fictional and are used only with humorous intent and any similarity between them and any living people is completely incidental.
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