Written by MickyDidIt89
After logging off last night , I became the recipient of some most disturbing news. I have been ousted as The Chairman of my local Wiff Waff Club (Ping Pong to some). It is a very small select club which makes pinpointing the bad seed very straightforward. You see, a minor incident took place at a less than sober gathering of the local Cider Circle on Thursday night at which a close friend and member of the Whiff Waff Club let slip to Mr Baxter (husband of Mrs Baxter) that two last minute re-scheduling of Wiff Waff Club meets were as a direct result of my Arsenal commitments. Now call me vindictive, but I can assure you the next time I am swinging the bat with Mrs Baxter, I shall not hold back. I only reluctantly let her join as a result of her very fine nibbles (which have turned out to be, shall we say, at best inconsistent) and certainly not as a result of either her conversational skills nor those of bat and ball.
This tale brings me nicely on to the subject of today’s post. How far have you been in the line of duty?
Like many here, I eagerly await a new seasons’ fixture list for two reasons. One is to see how the run-in looks and whether we are likely to become Champions on home soil, and the second reason is to head straight for the diary thus rendering myself “unavailable” for other distractions for one or two days of the year.
Of course shit happens, as indeed it did this week. Twice. Firstly, I had Marseille down for the Tuesday (hence re-scheduling The Wiff Waff Club to last night), and secondly my AFC Fixture List had Stoke down for Saturday. This works in my favour as it means I can go tomorrow, but this only shows how easily difficulties can arise, thus heaving at the strings of one’s loyalties.
My own favourite took place one day in the autumn of 1997. I had recently become engaged, and the previous day my then girlfriend and I had resolved to put a day in the diary for the momentous occasion in the Spring of the following year. She later found me on the phone to the FA enquiring about the dates of the Cup Final. When asked I merely explained that my wedding day was to be the most important day of my life (cough 26.05.89) and could she imagine how distracted I may be poncing down the aisle with ear piece in as we headed into extra time at Wembley while chasing the double. You never know, I said, it could happen.
So it came to pass that a short week after goals from Marc Overmars and DennisBergkamp against Newcastle at Wembley saw us take The Double, ‘err outdoors become ‘err indoors. So all in all a happy tale of dual commitment and loyalty.
My message to Mrs Baxter: Kiss my pert arse!