Sunday 19th February, 2023

I wrote my first song on the bass early on Sunday morning. Ladies and gentlemen, this one’s called FUCK YOU, SHIT YOU. It’s a catchy little ditty. I rather like it.

The lyrics need a little extra work – some verses might be needed for the chorus. The two string bass part bounces along. It has a Johnny Cash feel with a little Nottingham poetic dialect mixed in.

TWO mugs of tea were necked whilst I watched endless Forest Twitter videos from The World Famous City Ground yesterday. Yes, yes. I’ve watched THAT goal on MOTD; but I get more satisfaction seeing the crowd clips recorded from the stands.

Not so uplifting was the Leigh Wood knockout from the Fair City last night. I’m too tight arsed to pay for a DAZN subscription. So I caught up on YT this morning.

POW. Right in the kisser.

It looks like Leigh Wood fighting out of the World Famous City Ground will have to wait.

The stupid Sunday morning Church bells kicked it. Time to gtf out of here. I headed out for a bicycle ride.


The roads were bone dry. It was gorgeous having the sun and wind on my face as I rolled out on the Raleigh electric. I descended the run in to Tenpenny Hill clocking 40kmh. I almost kept the same pace as I flicked the electric switch to turbo for the climb.

My ear worm for the ride was FUCK YOU, SHIT YOU. Don’t worry. You’ll be humming it as well by early summer when it’s an international feel good tune.

The early spring weather delivered many different sights around the route. I passed a couple in their house in the middle of bloody nowhere taking morning tea in the porch. The PJ’s were a nice touch.

I passed the most amazing lawn of radiant snowdrops in full bloom; a couple of riders on their horses in a nearby field took me on in full gallop. I was out sprinted by the horsey horses. There’s no shame in that.

A good owd Essex Boy joined me for the run in. He was struggling on his roadie in the headwind. He asked if he could tuck in behind me and let the Raleigh electric do all the heavy lifting. We had a decent conversation about cycling for around 10kms.

FUCK YOU, SHIT YOU was forgotten about.

To the Arts Centre! …at lunchtime. The Vinyl Session had The Who’s Live at Leeds up for consideration.

The ride in along the Trail had high water along the muddy banks. The half sunken yacht down by the Hythe was almost fully submerged.

There was a good crowd at the Arts Centre. We warned that Live at Leeds stretches to sixty minutes. I strapped myself in, a little unsure about what to expect over the PA.

It took ten minutes for the first vocals to kick in. Punk’s Not Dead, etc.

Live at Leeds was released a couple of months after I was born in May 1970. Both are still relevant. Ha, bloody ha.

It was impossible not to foot tap along with Keith’s drumming. But that was about the best it got for me. I bought a copy on CD for £2 last week. That seems a fair price tbh.

The Q and A that followed got a little heavy. Someone spoke about the musical qualities of Gary Glitter. There was an embarrassing pause in the proceedings.

I cycled on to the pool for a late afternoon swim. The crazy disco roller skating girl was doing her thing down at the Hythe. She’s chuffing brilliant.

She has an old pair of roller skates and wears all the 70’s leg warmer gear. Her car is parked up as her sound system pumps out some disco classics as she dances along. Prince’s I Wanna Be Your Lover worked well.

At the other end of the scale was crazy woman driver who almost took me out at a junction whilst talking into her phone. I was too angry to stop and take a photo of her at the wheel.

I had the pool to myself. It was bliss. I found a sudden burst of energy and put in forty power lengths. Actually, make that forty two. My counting went a little wayward. My Garmin only alerted me after I touched down for the final time.

To Essex Sports Arena! Again! I seem to be spending all my spare time back on campus these days. The Rebel’s Men’s volleyball team had a home match against Newcastle. Given that the Geordies had two victories in the basketball yesterday, there was hope that this might be third time lucky.

I didn’t have to pay to get in. I think this was a mistake. The nice door staff have me down as some Rebels groupie and waved me through.

There is an incredible sporting set up on campus these days. It’s the only thing that I envy about the students of today.

Newcastle had a squad of eight players, compared to the thirteen of Essex. They also didn’t have a coach on the sideline, which looked a little ominous.

The Rebels has a good backing. It bordered on football trolling at times, something that I felt a little uncomfortable with. I felt very old sitting amongst the students.

It was a tight game. I left at two sets each. It was starting to get dark. I was tired and hungry. I had been out pretty much all day. I still can’t find out who actually won.

I won a retro Forest cap on eBay at a decent price. A good way to end the weekend.