I’m a 60 something (which sounds marginally less embarrassing than ‘pushing 70’) and a former rugby player with fond memories of mates and events playing what passed for rugby at Askeans from 1966 until somewhere in the late nineties. I’m sure that some, if not many of these recollections have become exaggerated – an indulgence that is directly connected to my age and the many injuries I picked up whilst chasing odd shaped balls and frequently even odder shaped blokes (although only on the pitch obviously!)
In the unlikely event that you decide to read this stuff , I suggest that you go to the first post (Headed – ‘What this is all about’) and work your way forward to the latest entry. You don’t have to do this on every visit obviously (yeah right – like you’ll be coming back – well, not without a good dose of rhohypnal anyway)
It actually starts on July 13th 2013 and there have been well over 2,600 stories and even more pics since then (although by the time anyone bothers to read this bit it will probably be a lot more!)
Staggeringly this rubbish has now been viewed over 100,000 times and in some 169 different countries around the world (I know, me either! Only 27 to go to get a full house.)
Whilst it started just as my memories of Askeans it has inevitably wandered into other areas where I like to take the piss – even Askeans don’t have that many good stories! Or any to be honest!
Anyway, reading from the beginning may make a bit more sense as the thing is meant to be sort of chronological.
I’d originally planned it to be a book – it’s here because no publisher in their right mind is likely to be interested. If they had there’s enough material here now to fill a sequel, that difficult third anthology (as described by proper writers who want to promote themselves – twats) and a prequel as well.
I don’t know if you dedicate blogs the way you do books, but I’m going to anyway!
This blog is dedicated to my wonderful wife Terry and our kids (Helen – known as Lell and Rich – known as Rich). Also Rich’s lovely wife Silvana and our gorgeous grandchildren Annalia.and Rafa
Terry has tolerated me for more than 45 years, my kids slightly less.
None of this would have been possible if someone had given her a copy of ‘Never marry a rugby player’ back in the 1960s. I imagine she regrets that now.