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Jul. 7th, 2007 11:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eiffel_71Sat up till 2 am finishing Penguins Stopped Play, allowing me to take it back to the library this morning, where The Inimitable Jeeves, which I'd ordered, was waiting for me. Nothing like the exploits of Jeeves and Bertie Wooster for raising flagging spirits. (When reading the books, I always picture them as Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie. Their portrayals were absolutely perfect.)
Had the luxury of being able to set off after lunch for Quins RL v Catalans, as it was a 6 pm kick-off for the benefit of Sky TV. On the walk from the station up to the ground, got talking to a family of Quins fans (in the old London Broncos shirts) who said some of the Hull KR fans had been rather ungracious in defeat last week. We wondered how many the Catalans would bring today for what is, after all, their nearest away trip. The wife wondered if some French fans might make a week of it and stay for the London leg of the Tour de France which started today.
In the bar, I said 'bonsoir' to a couple of Catalans' lady fans and we had a brief conversation in French, till I suddenly ran out of ideas on what to say, said 'Bonne chance' to them with a wave goodbye and headed for the other side of the bar. Over the next few minutes, I thought of other things I could have asked them and mentally kicked myself for charging in before I'd properly thought out my line of conversation. I like to think I at least did a little bit for Anglo-French rugby league friendship.
There was a men's tennis match on the telly. I asked the only bloke watching it whether the women's final was over; he said yes, and that Venus Williams had won. The Williams sisters might not be quite the force they once were, but you can never write them off.
I moved over to the other TV screen, showing the cricket, and watched the England middle order collapse. By the time Monty Panesar got off the mark it was 20 minutes to kick-off so I made my way out into the stadium.
The queue at the burger bar was massive. I joined it at 5.45 - got served with two minutes to kick-off. By the time I went to take my seat in the stand the stewards weren't letting anyone walk past the players' tunnel, so we stragglers had to walk all the way round the back of the stand and miss the opening couple of minutes.
The game was an absolute thriller. For 60 minutes the lead constantly changed hands, and we also had the excitement of the Video Referee on the Sky big screen in the corner. All over the stand kids held up their 'Try'/'No Try' signs when the video ref was called into play. From the hour mark, the match was poised on a knife edge with Quins 2 points ahead, until with two minutes to go Sherriffe charged through on the wing to score a fine try and Paul Sykes converted to seal the win.
Arrived back in Gosport at 11 pm, just as a horde of young lasses in skimpy outfits were boarding the ferry for a night on the razzle in Portsmouth.
Had the luxury of being able to set off after lunch for Quins RL v Catalans, as it was a 6 pm kick-off for the benefit of Sky TV. On the walk from the station up to the ground, got talking to a family of Quins fans (in the old London Broncos shirts) who said some of the Hull KR fans had been rather ungracious in defeat last week. We wondered how many the Catalans would bring today for what is, after all, their nearest away trip. The wife wondered if some French fans might make a week of it and stay for the London leg of the Tour de France which started today.
In the bar, I said 'bonsoir' to a couple of Catalans' lady fans and we had a brief conversation in French, till I suddenly ran out of ideas on what to say, said 'Bonne chance' to them with a wave goodbye and headed for the other side of the bar. Over the next few minutes, I thought of other things I could have asked them and mentally kicked myself for charging in before I'd properly thought out my line of conversation. I like to think I at least did a little bit for Anglo-French rugby league friendship.
There was a men's tennis match on the telly. I asked the only bloke watching it whether the women's final was over; he said yes, and that Venus Williams had won. The Williams sisters might not be quite the force they once were, but you can never write them off.
I moved over to the other TV screen, showing the cricket, and watched the England middle order collapse. By the time Monty Panesar got off the mark it was 20 minutes to kick-off so I made my way out into the stadium.
The queue at the burger bar was massive. I joined it at 5.45 - got served with two minutes to kick-off. By the time I went to take my seat in the stand the stewards weren't letting anyone walk past the players' tunnel, so we stragglers had to walk all the way round the back of the stand and miss the opening couple of minutes.
The game was an absolute thriller. For 60 minutes the lead constantly changed hands, and we also had the excitement of the Video Referee on the Sky big screen in the corner. All over the stand kids held up their 'Try'/'No Try' signs when the video ref was called into play. From the hour mark, the match was poised on a knife edge with Quins 2 points ahead, until with two minutes to go Sherriffe charged through on the wing to score a fine try and Paul Sykes converted to seal the win.
Arrived back in Gosport at 11 pm, just as a horde of young lasses in skimpy outfits were boarding the ferry for a night on the razzle in Portsmouth.
