Bill Badger strikes again

Hasn't it been raining recently? My poor old mum in Plymouth has been battered, the Argyle game at the weekend being abandoned midway through the second half . The residents of Cockermouth in Cumbria, and Workington, up the way, have had their communities devastated by flooding. Bridges lie on the river beds they once traversed, and property and businesses have been wrecked beyond salvation. The people of Bradcaster in Cornwall will be looking up Country with every sympathy.

Imagine, then, my trepidation as I invited six rugby colleagues up to Southport of the fourth annual Dom Pedro golf tournament. November up North in the wettest November on record, not a good idea! The event is usually held mid-October in Portugal, and the name of the tournament is associated with the hotel we all stay in. I managed to win the individual and the team contest last year and had high hopes of retaining the trophies.

Things did not start off well though. Our hotel, The Prince of Wales, had booked us into double rooms as they had five coach loads of the 'grey pound' posse staying there for 'turkey and tinsel'. Z-beds were provided with the promise of room changes the next day.

We then arrived at Formby golf links as the heavens opened and dumped the aforementioned precipitation on us. On went the waterproofs, jumpers, thermal gloves and beanie hats and off we trudged.

My partner for the week, Adam, and I were playing Gareth and Bill Badger in our first round tussle. Now Bill Badger has been around the rugby club for years, he has played for most of the senior teams and has won kicking cups, golf trophies and man of the match awards consistently throughout his time there. He must be a great all rounder you may think, but no, not really.

In the same way that Scottish football teams might field A. Trialist, or B. Trialist in games to protect those players anonymity, so Bill Badger is a nom d'plume for people who go on tour and don't want to be recognised, or is a trophy winner filler in the years a pot is not played for. And so it came to be that as we were only seven on tour Bill became our eighth man.

On the first day he was represented by my father-in law, Marty, who I invited along as an early 70th birthday present. He showed his gratitude by sinking a thirty foot putt on the 17th to win 2 and 1, humf! The fact the rain cleared after three holes and we played in glorious Winter sunshine was small consolation to me.

On the second day at Formby Ladies, Bill was represented by a Liverpool acquaintance called Stu, who helped Gareth to a comfortable win, and took the day prize himself with 39 points. Saturday was again set fair and for part of the round we were playing in polo shirts it was so mild.

A night out in Liverpool in Alma d'Cuba until 3am did not sit well with the final match of the tour, played on the greens of the Hesketh club. Gareth did hang on to win again, so emulated my feat of last year winning the team and individual titles, on another rain free day.

It was great the lads travelled up to play and that they has a good time, we did agree however, that it would be back to The Algarve next year. Whether Bill is with us may well be influenced by the governments stance on bovine TB in the countryside.

Its day 1 in the big brother house

Actually its day 6, but as I sneaked back to London last week after four days up North, this is really the first full week.

The big challenge with integrating two houses is the amount of double bubble you have....three extra beds, two extra sofas, clothes, pots, pans, cutlery, glasses, pictures, books and other ephemera, my collection of menus from restaurants around the world being one such.....

So we have a bedroom full of stuff, which needs to be carefully sorted into piles. E-bay, tip and office are the three easiest clasifications to decide upon. Storage or usage are the trickiest. SWMBO has had sole storage rights for a number of years so her space needs to be protected as well.

So far the futon has gone to Emma and Lees spare room, the dressing table has replaced the falling apart MFI one, and most of the clothes have found a way into a wardrobe or three. Emma's bedroom has become the library, but there are still masses of books looking for homes, and just how many dictonaries does one need for practical purposes?

E-bay will take a hammering this week, and Chiswick Auction House has already disposed of some of the lesser art work we will fail to put on the wall....storage items are next.

Guess what though, just as we finish the sorting process we will find a flat in London and start the ' why did we throw that out debate' all over again....c'est la vie.

I told you so.....

I have been bleating on about the quality of the product on offer at Twickenham Stadium, as the England rugby team stumble from one shambles to the next. My prediction that the stadium will be half empty before the next World Cup has fallen on deaf ears as far as my chums at the RFU are concerned.

Today, however, in the Observer, Paul Hayward has taken up the theme, and I do wonder if he drinks in the Prince Blucher after the game, and has ear wigged my persistent bemoaning!

Wales and Ireland seem to be able to play exciting rugby even in adversity, England just cannot step up to the plate. I have no idea what the answer is although I do fear the lack of University educated players is on the decline as a result of professional rugby teams and their associated academy's trying to dumb down rugby intellect by brain washing the flair out of players.

The S Club 5 will continue to attend on a casual basis as the day, and indeed, the weekend continues to be a good craic, but the three Autumn Internationals are two too many for us already......I am reminded of the phone call once to Brentford FC....'Hello can you tell me what time kick-off is?......whenever you can get here Sir!'

I do good deal my friend

I have just returned from a few days in Marrakesh with some of the BMW golf group, and I must say this retirement business is beginning to have an appeal. We played three courses while out there and the contrasts were fascinating. I was sixth after day one but faded to end in the pack although a steady par round the back nine at Amalkis sent me hope with a smile.

To help the economy, caddies are compulsory, and I know know what an important tool in the professional armoury such a person can be. I had a nightmare on the second day, and, although I have nightmares when playing without a caddie, on this occasion I was in another place.

He gave me wrong clubs, walked me to tees, via the scenic route and was generally a bad vibe. All round I fought my inner self but sadly it won 3 and 2!!!

The bigger disappointment was that this was the day we played Marrakesh Royal golf club, a course laid out in 1920 by the top man of the time, and it has been graces by King Hussain, Winston Churchill and Dwight D Eisenhower

The characters on the tour were an equally eclectic bunch. There was a retired builder who had got his six numbers up, a publisher who spent a lot of time in the old Eastern Block. One of his big titles is 'Wheres Wally?' and the banter on tour suggested he was the role model for the character! Big Rod is in munitions, fabricating the personnel carriers we are sending our boys in Afghanistan and there were financiers, legal eagles, electricians and teachers. It was all very interesting.

So what of the city itself? well Sex in the City 2 was being filmed on location while we were there which will no doubt give a sight of the place when it is released. We really only saw the grand bizarre.It was big, but once you see one carpet stall you see them all, especially when none of them were the flying variety!

Its size inevitable led to my group getting lost in a 'maze of twisting little passages which all looked the same'.Our efforts to keep turning right did not work so we eventually had to pay a local to escort us back to the main square!

We then got taken by a hawker to an authentic Moroccan restaurant, so authentic in fact that it did not sell alcohol. We made our excuses and left. We found another which did, and threw in a belly dancer for free...

Marrakesh is about a three day resort which I probably would not return to in a hurry. Paraphrasing Tuffers view of India 'done the poverty, done the camels'

Ode to joy

So farewell then soft Limacon
a great theme we stumbled on.......

t'were full of slugs the slimy things
but once rid of them t'were musings

in tasteful remembrance
with a french cuisine semblance

Le Limacon est arrivee - phew!
lets have a buffet and barbecue

and the tradition lasted
while we all got plastered

and toasted the slugs on and on
(actually les limacons in translashion!)

but he's sold the house
and is moving to scouse

but in our mind's eye we'll still see
le limacon .... so r.i.p.

P Figgins aged 8 and a half.....arf.......