26/02/2011

My phone woke me this morning again, the ringtone of Tinie Tempa‘s, slick urban beats filling the hotel room. It was the eldest in a right tizzy. Apparently those hooligans on PASTITTI.com or what ever its called have been whipping themselves into a frenzy again. I asked to speak to the son in law, ‘calm her down I said, take her down to Flambards, usually does the trick, I’ll chuck you a twenty note when I’m back‘. Top bloke though, we have a cracking time together on Sundays when he comes over with what he calls his ‘specially imported dutch shigarettes,’ a packet of hobnobs and we get cracking on the jigsaw together - it’s a bugger though this one, we seldom get 10 pieces down in a session. Have to put the airwick on full blast when he’s gone though.


Above; The future for Home Park?

I tell you I’m always thinking about business opportunities, no matter where I am. We went down the Nad El Sheba Camel Racing Stadium today and I got on the blower to Keith ‘maximising revenue streams Keith? - I’ve got the very thing’ I told him ‘Argyle Saturday, Camel Derby Sunday - joint ticket 30 notes - you know it makes sense’. He didn’t seem too keen, said it would play havoc with the fibres in the new pitch, he’s so bloody precious about that bloody pitch! You should see him wincing every time there’s a sliding challenge.
For some reason I found myself rooting for El Faloni and his rider. Something about his lugubrious gait and sad eyes reminded me of watching our strike force on a Saturday afternoon. He didn’t really seem to know which order his feet should move in and he tripped over in a big mess once or twice round the course , causing hilarity in the stand. Nothing changes - they’re just the same in the Mayflower, scathing so-and-so’s. He came last, but it my eyes it was a moral victory even getting round the course with all that heckling.
Went down to the jockey’s dressing room - they insisted, ‘guest of honour guest of honour’ they kept saying, ushering me and the missus downstairs. There they were, El Faloni and his rider, sharing their post-race bath! I got him to sign my programme (no not the Camel haha! Be a bit difficult to hold a biro with hooves!) but then he wanted me to sign something for some bizarre reason, he was searching high and low but eventually settled on his jockstrap. ‘I will hang it pride of place in my hut and forever remember the day I met Dr. Mark Sloan’ he said, real gratitude shining in his eyes, ‘it will bring me and El Faloni luck’. Totally barmy this lot!
Was at the beach this afternoon making steady progress with Bravo Two Zero (recommended by Big Pete) when for the umpteenth bloody time the cursed Blackberry interrupted me. I was at the point of lobbing it into the sea when I noticed it was Boris! We’d swapped numbers the other night. He wanted me to come for a knock about up the the Burj Al Arab where they have the world’s highest tennis court. The missus said she’d stay there and watch these Italian lads playing beach volleyball - no idea she had so much interest in the sport! So I’m just slipping into my whites to make my way over there.
Will have my fingers crossed that Little Pete will call me with good news from the Cheltenham fixute this afternoon.
Ciao for Now.