Absent without leave

Just in case anyone has been wondering why I have not been writing recently I would like to clear up a couple of small matters.

Firstly, I have not, as one of the chaps at the Club suggested, been the victim of some kind of honour killing arranged by Hope’s eldest, Emily. Mind you, I can appreciate why he might think that after the rather embarrassing events of last Monday. I have to admit that I am very much still in the dark over why a young lady who, in every other way, seems so normal could have taken against me in so violent a way.  In fact, her latest outburst embarrassed even Hope who seemed as much at a loss as I was to explain Emily’s actions.

One knows that one cannot expect to please all of the people all of the time, as Lincoln once put it, I have never encountered anyone before who I seem to ber s completely unable to please any of the time. I don’t really want to dwell on that last encounter, so let us just leave that one there.

Secondly, and this is a rumour that seems to have also originated in the Club bar, contrary to popular belief, I have not been given any kind of warning or ultimatum by dear Hope. Far from it in fact. Although she has never read my online journal, she is very happy for me to continue doing whatever it is I do.

Lastly, although the past couple of weeks have not been particularly easy for me, I have not been confined to an institution of any kind. Despite that Dasher may have been implying over the bar at the Club, I am very much of sound mind and body.

No, the real reason for my absence is a very simple and relatively boring one. You see my old chum Cambridge called upon me last Tuesday and asked if I would like to join him on a little trip he was planning to his old family estate in the highlands. Now, this time last year I would have hesitated to venture into the wilds of “bonnie” Scotland, but this year I just saw an opportunity to get away from the interminable World Cup that seems to be pervading every corner of one’s life at present. Now, I don’t want anyone to bet the impression in any way that I am some kind of grumpy old spoilsport, but it has to be said that the media’s general assumption that we are all football fanatics is rather annoying. Pages and pages of the daily newspapers have been dedicated to the damned thing and my normal television viewing has been disrupted in an unforgivable way.

So yes, the prospect of a few days at Cambridge’s Scotish country estate was most welcome. Hope and I had no immediate plans that I was aware of so I accepted the offer and very soon was safe aboard the Edinburgh bound train.

We had a wonderful few days in the picturesque highlands. I don’t see as much of old Cambridge as I used to and it was very pleasant indeed to spend a little time with the old chap and catch up on things. Of course, no matter where one goes one can never be totally removed from the humdrum of everyday life and all its cares and woes, but for my money, spending a few days on the banks of Loch Duntelchaig cames very close. The weather was near perfect and I found myself a little homesick – not for my house in town, but for my own little getaway in the heart of Hampshire. In fact, I think I will pay the old place a visit once Wimbledon is out of the way.

Anyway, I arrived back a couple of days ago only to find my absence noticed by far more people than I had expected. I must say I was quite touched by everyone’s concern until I realised that I had left in such haste that I appear to have overlooked the need to tell anyone where I was going.

Whilst for most – the chaps at the Club certainly – my absence would have been of little consequence, it seems to have been felt most keenly by dear Hope who, I am almost embarrassed to admit, I forgot to tell of my last minute plans. She was, as one would expect, extremely annoyed at what she called my thoughtlessness. In my defence, and I accept it may be a poor one, I have become used to doing my own thing and have still to come to terms with the idea that there is someone who might need to be consulted or at the very least be informed of my decisions. Rest assured, that lesson has been well and truly learned.



And so it begins…

Well, it has started! After months of anticipation, political wrangling and much preparation, the football World Cup has finally kicked off. Not that any of the aforementioned anticipation and preparation are anything to do with me personally you understand. Quite the contrary in fact. Football is one of those sports I have never had much time for. In fact, I do not believe that anyone in my family, with the possible exception of young Nigel, has the slightest interest in the game.

Actually, I don’t think I have ever seen a football match – well, not a whole one. We were occasionally forced to play when I was at school, but generally, the masters preferred rugger or cricket. Soccer was not considered to be a game for young gentlemen. My father was of the opinion that is was a game solely suited for the working classes and that was the end of that. Mother took no interest in any sport that didn’t involve a racquet or a horse, which I can well understand.

I remember when I was in my last year at school we had a new PT teacher who tried to establish a football team. Bless him, it was never going to work. There was just no call for it. I understand that he left the school shortly after we did. Probably for the best; not the right type of chap at all.

Of course, some of the chaps at the Club seem to enjoy the so-called beautiful game, but it is not a subject that has ever been allowed to dominate the conversation at the bar. Mind you, I did hear a rather worrying rumour that a proposal had been made to set up a television in the bar to show some of the tournament matches. Not surprisingly, and to my great relief, the idea was given very short shrift by the trustees. It would have been far too much of an intrusion and would have set a worrying precedent for the future. Heaven knows, once one starts down that particular rocky road there is no turning back. One can only imagine where that kind of thing can lead. Amy anyway, there are a number of establishments happy to offer such facilities, but they have no place at the Club. Never hand, I hope, they never will.

Whilst I have no interest at all in football, one cannot help picking up on some of the stories and characters that surround it. I believe that for a not inconsiderable number of people football is more of a religion than a sport. I have often heard the quotation attributed to one former manager (I cannot recall his name, but I think he had something to do with the city of Liverpool) who said that “football is not a matter of life or death – it is much more important than that!” Nigel would know who said it but football managers all look and sound the same to me.

And that’s another thing – whenever I do see news reports or overhear conversations about football it was only too clear that very few of the names I heard were British. It would seem that the country’s “favourite” sports is owned, managed and, to a large degree, played by foreigners. So, if our national leagues are dominated by players from other countries, where does the national team come from? Not that I am too concerned or have given the matter much thought – if any. But by an unexpected twist of fate, I have found myself involved with the whole silly affair if only in the most peripheral way.

It turns out that Hopes former husband was a bit of a football fan and during their time together, Hope had taken an interest in the game. She did not normally watch matches or anything like that but said that the World Cup was different and she was supporting the England team. Charlotte, however, really does seem to enjoy it all and says she will be watching some chosen matches with her a group of her friends. I, of course, will be avoiding the whole silly thing as much as I can, which will probably mean spending more time either at the Club or at home. Even the office cannot be considered an escape from the damned thing. Only yesterday I noticed several television screens had been set up and were tuned into the tournament.

Anyway, my main goal for today (no pun intended) is to avoid any further encounters with the World Cup, if that is possible. I will pop down to the Club this afternoon, maybe stay for dinner and a frame or two over drinks with the chaps.