People in England rugby shirts....
I have noticed something this weekend while in London.
Give a man a Scottish rugby top and a kilt, he is instantly transformed into a legend. People say hello, he responds in kind, possibly even buying his new friend a pint and having a chat about the upcoming game at Twickenham.
Now, take the same guy, change his nationality, give him an English rugby top and a ridiculous English accent to go along with his overwhelmingly loud and obnoxious voice. Instantly he knows his rugby rules better than anyone in the world whilst at the same time becoming a total arsehole.
Me: "Alright mate, how's it goin' - looking forward to the game".....etc
-insert short conversation whilst avoiding his spittle-
Me: "Anyway boss, I'm away to stand over there - good luck today"
Him: "I don't think we'll need it. Thanks."
Instant tosser.
I'd like to congratulate England on being totally dependable upon one person who has finally enabled them to beat a pitifully poor team. I attach this picture for the television referee. Sir, notice how the attacking player's right foot is touching the ground outside of the white line before the ball has been grounded. That usually indicates that the player shall be deemed to be 'out of play', resulting in a lineout. Thank god you didn't have a range of camera angles to watch frame by frame so that you wouldn't bugger that decision up!
Rant over. We were soundly beaten. By one man. Who had to cheat.
On a lighter note, I am currently on a course in RAF HALTON, a beautiful establishment near London. I thought I would attach an image of where I have lunch most days...
I have also spent a couple of days on an "effective listening" course at Amport House, below, where some very convincing actors came and talked to me and told me they were wanting to commit suicide and were pregnant.
It was about that time when they started sobbing then crying before unleashing a tidal wave of emotions to go with the buckets of tears. All part of the learning process, I was told, before the next guy came in and told me his mum had just died. It was fairly tough but I got through it the only way I know how:
14 pints of Guinness please.
Mick.
Give a man a Scottish rugby top and a kilt, he is instantly transformed into a legend. People say hello, he responds in kind, possibly even buying his new friend a pint and having a chat about the upcoming game at Twickenham.
Now, take the same guy, change his nationality, give him an English rugby top and a ridiculous English accent to go along with his overwhelmingly loud and obnoxious voice. Instantly he knows his rugby rules better than anyone in the world whilst at the same time becoming a total arsehole.
Me: "Alright mate, how's it goin' - looking forward to the game".....etc
Me: "Anyway boss, I'm away to stand over there - good luck today"
Him: "I don't think we'll need it. Thanks."
Instant tosser.
I'd like to congratulate England on being totally dependable upon one person who has finally enabled them to beat a pitifully poor team. I attach this picture for the television referee. Sir, notice how the attacking player's right foot is touching the ground outside of the white line before the ball has been grounded. That usually indicates that the player shall be deemed to be 'out of play', resulting in a lineout. Thank god you didn't have a range of camera angles to watch frame by frame so that you wouldn't bugger that decision up!
Rant over. We were soundly beaten. By one man. Who had to cheat.
On a lighter note, I am currently on a course in RAF HALTON, a beautiful establishment near London. I thought I would attach an image of where I have lunch most days...
I have also spent a couple of days on an "effective listening" course at Amport House, below, where some very convincing actors came and talked to me and told me they were wanting to commit suicide and were pregnant.
It was about that time when they started sobbing then crying before unleashing a tidal wave of emotions to go with the buckets of tears. All part of the learning process, I was told, before the next guy came in and told me his mum had just died. It was fairly tough but I got through it the only way I know how:
14 pints of Guinness please.
Mick.
