All We Know Is ... He's called Mitten!

After last weekend, I was pretty damn certain it was going to be a long time before I embarked on a similar schedule. By Sunday night, after two consecutive nights out, two cricket matches and work, I was clinically dead. I slept for 12 hours, (I only had work on Monday afternoon), and even then I needed more. It was a truly special effort, and one that I was not going to repeat.

Until this weekend.

Oh yes, I did it again. Pretty much the same schedule, same time frames and arguably, it was even better. Sitting at work, monstrously bored on Friday afternoon, contemplating an evening of nothingness, I hatched a plan. I had work again on Saturday morning, but I knew it wouldn't be a problem after the successes of last weekend. I rounded up the troops, and after a lot of persuasion, managed to get a group of us out on the town. Abigail picked me up at 9pm, and we visited Tesco's to get some pre-drinks in. Now. Usually, I'd buy a small bottle of JD and a bottle of coke and we'd keep it at that. But I knew I was definitely getting drunk on Saturday night aswell, so after a bit of contemplation, I went for the biggest bottle of JD available. 1 whole litre of the stuff, and at £35, it seemed like quite an investment. Even walking out of the shop, I felt like a literal alcoholic. We had about an hour of pre-drinking, and I had only had a bit of Jack Daniels, leaving the majority of the litre bottle. We made our way into town and met with the others, and what proceeded was one of the strangest nights in recent history. Certainly of 2013 so far. I was in one of my, "I'm gonna get everyone very drunk!" moods, so got in a lot of Jagerbombs and a lot of Sambuca and fed them to everyone. What proceeded was a crazy, crazy night. I honestly don't know how to write it down in words, so I won't. Most of it is unrepeatable anyway...

Work on Saturday morning was difficult. Waking up with the screaming of the alarm clock felt considerably tougher than it had done the previous weekend, and although I didn't have a hangover, (I don't tend to get them unless I've gone way overboard), I was viciously tired. But once again, I took on the attitude I had done the previous weekend. The Mastermind Attitude.

"I've started, so I'll finish."

Work was actually dead. I've never known a Saturday morning as quiet as that one, so when 1pm finally rocked around, I felt like I had been given a lifeline. An easy morning after a night on the tiles, (literally for some, although I managed to stay on my feet), left me with slightly more energy for the afternoon's exertions out on the cricket pitch. I still bought my now customary can of Red Bull, and whilst preparing for the match, I looked forward to what was going to be a run fest. Although, after an hour of the match, I was rather wanting to go home.

It was extraordinary. I lost the toss, and we were asked to field. It was a bad toss to lose, and the obvious choice, as the pitch was a slab of concrete. The perfect batting conditions, and instantly, we said 240 was a par score. What actually happened was nothing short of carnage. We were playing Houghton Chargers, the champions for the past three seasons, although they are struggling this season, so we thought we were in with a chance, with a strong side out. By the drinks break, 22 overs in, Houghton were on 174-1. Now. If you have no knowledge of the game, you might not know how ridiculous a score that is. If you do, you'll know that we spent the first half of that innings fetching the ball from all parts of Bedfordshire. The Houghton opening batsman had set about marmalising our bowling attack to smithereens and he had scored a century by the time we were guzzling our drinks, wondering what on Earth the second half of the innings was going to bring. Thankfully though, this opening batsman holed out to me at deep mid-wicket in the second over after the break. As the ball approached me, I was thinking, "If you drop this, I'm going to be placed on a stake by my own teammates". I did hold on. And then what happened, was even better.

At this stage, they were 210-2, and a mammoth score still looked likely. However, not long after, they had been dismissed all out for 245. Obviously, it was still a good score, but considering they were talking about getting 400 at the drinks break, I was a happy captain. We considered that about a par score as we tucked into our mid-match sandwiches.

Our innings started pretty brightly. After losing an early wicket, I came in to bat at number 3 in the second over and set about supporting my fellow opening batsman, who was due at work at 6pm! He decided to copy the mantra of his opposite number and flayed the ball to all parts before having no choice but to depart, unbeaten on 68. I went on to make my second half-century of the season, before chopping on to my own stumps for 52, but at this point, we were 185-3, and cruising. We needed another 60 odd runs for victory, and thanks to a superior run-rate, we could do it pretty serenely. However, just like on a lot of other occasions this season, we made an absolute meal of it. So much so, that we required another 13 runs for victory with our number 11 batsman walking to the crease. Once more, I found myself at square leg, umpiring, willing the boys over the line. Thanks to awesome pressure batting from Arjun, we did just that, and we had won by 1 wicket.

It was a startling victory, especially given the situation after an hour of the match. Full speed ahead!

Scenes were very different after last weekend. Last weekend, I was struggling to stay awake after cricket on the Saturday, but this time, I was buzzing on the adrenaline of an extraordinary victory. This, plus the anticipation of what was going to be a very funny night, meant I was in exceptionally high spirits.

You see, there was a house party going on in the remote village of Wilden. A 21st party, and it was fancy dress. I've never really been a fan of fancy dress. It seems like a waste of effort and money on what's going to be easily forgotten, but on this occasion, I had an inspired idea that would be filled with comedy. And most definitely unforgettable. There was a theme, and it was TV characters. On Monday night, at roughly midnight, I stumbled across a fancy dress website and I only needed to briefly browse it to find what would be the most PERFECT outfit.

Some say his head is massive....
And that he carries around a drip of JD inside his
jacket... All we know is... He's NOT the Stig!

But he is the Stig's Alcoholic Cousin!

It was brilliant. I turned up a little later than I had anticipated due to a problem with a petrol pump, but once I did, it was comedy gold. A few people knew I was turning up as The Stig from Top Gear, but not everyone did, and there were a lot of people there who didn't know me at all. As I stepped out of the car on to the road, I heard, "Wow! It's the Stig!" from the pathway outside the house. I was wearing the Stig mask, and had told myself I would stay in character for as long as time allowed me. I was stood in the middle of the road, and a car was coming the other way, but determined to stay in character, I stood my ground. The car ahead stopped, and as I looked up from the road to the car, I could see a man in there, absolutely aghast. Whether he thought it was genuinely The Stig I don't know, but as I stood in the middle of the road, refusing to move, I could hear laughs of absolute derision from the sidelines. I was a comedy genius.

I didn't stay in the road for long. I didn't want to annoy the man too much, but as I walked towards the house, I was greeted with a lot of, "That costume is extraordinary!" amongst other similarly complimentary greetings. As I reached the path, I stopped and looked in the direction of the onlookers. I didn't say a word. I could see them out of my mask, but I knew they could not see in, so I had a smile plastered across my face. I kept silent and looked at them for a while. And then walked off. Cue more hysterical laughter.

I was then given the keys to a guy's car, the make of which slips my mind, but he had modified it so it had neon lights underneath and a big exhaust. I got inside and sat in the drivers seat. With that, a lot more people came outside to hear what the commotion was, and saw The Stig sitting in the drivers seat of one of the guests cars.

"Who is that? Is it actually The Stig?!"

"It might aswell be, because this guy is bloody amazing at it!"

I sat in the car for a good 10 minutes, not moving, not saying a word, until I was given the car keys. I didn't drive anywhere, but closed the door and started the engine, and gave it a few revs. Everyone loved it.

"Whoever that is, he is a fucking legend! That is BRILLIANT!", I heard behind me, as I eventually walked into the house. I was delighted. This was unbelievably funny. I had the Stig's character down to a tee.

I walked into the house, still in character, and came across the large group of friends that I know. Unfortunately, one of the people who knew I was The Stig was very drunk already, so gave the game away, which was a slight shame, but I had definitely made an impact. As I took the mask off, there were cheers and more compliments of how great the costume was. For the first hour, I walked around with my mask on, looking through the window of the summerhouse and scaring the people in there who were yet to see me or the costume.

It was a very good night. I did a bit of karaoke dressed as The Stig, and a couple of people got absolutely mortifyingly drunk, as is pretty standard for a house party. We took a couple of customary pictures of the guilty party, and as people crashed at roughly 3am, I started to feel the heat under my eyes. I was tired. Time to go.

As the taxi arrived, I decided I would round up all the spare alcohol and fill a Tesco's bag worth. My own litre of JD, (which was now half a litre), a couple of half bottles of Bacardi and a load of Guinness and Strongbow, I was away. The only other moment of that night I distinctly remember was the taxi driver telling me he played cricket aswell, for Bedford Pakistanis.

I then went and asked him if he was Indian. Good work Mitten.

When I got home, I strangely decided to do the cricket admin work from the extraordinary win from earlier, and crashed at roughly 4.30am. Once again, I slept solidly until the alarm went. Another day. Another cricket match.

There's not a lot to explain about this match in all honesty. It was an extremely comfortable win for us, and all of a sudden, there is an air of invincibility in the camp, as we slowly make our way up the table towards the promotion places. Promotion will be a tough, tough ask but I'm sure the guys will give it their best shot. I've already said that if we do get promoted, I will play in the annual 6-a-side tournament at the end of the season in my Stig suit.

There was no pub quiz after that game of cricket, as I had gotten back from the away venue later than anticipated. This was a god send, as I was absolutely knackered. Again. But once again, I did not regret doing any of the activities I did this weekend. These last few weeks, the wonders of Summer have hit me.

I have never taken this attitude before, but since the beginning of June, I have used the phrase, "Life is for living". I've been taking most opportunities to be social and have fun, and it has paid enormous dividends. In the past, I have been largely reluctant to sacrifice sleep for social events, as I figured I wouldn't enjoy the social events if I was knackered. The last couple of weekends have proved that theory wrong. Listening to stories from people older than myself, I am currently in that brief stage of my life where I have a decent enough job, whilst also living at home.

I believe the phrase is "disposable income", and at the moment, I have a lot of it. Finally, at the age of 22, I feel like I can have a proper go at really enjoying myself. Enjoy being young and carefree, and although I anticipate some troubles come Winter, as is usually the case, at the moment, that is a long way off. With the promise of a proper Summer for the majority of July, (a heatwave apparently), there might well be more of these action-packed weekends.

I for one, cannot wait. Bring it on!


P.S. I believe, after 524 posts, that's the first picture I've uploaded to this blog that has actually uploaded properly... I'm amazed! Cracking picture though!