Football gone crazy

Andrew scored two cracking goals again today against old rivals North Berwick. His football skills are very good and when he gets to play with like minded players it makes for good football. Today he got his first taste of the unpleasantries of football when some posh little gobshite from NB went to give Andrew the ball for a throwing and chucked it into his face. A split lip didn't put him off winning.

On Wednesday at training I also encountered the dark side of the 'beautiful game' when I got kicked out of the sports hall where I have always gone to watch him train. Apparantly club rules now ban parents from watching the kids train in case they are some sort of perv who will entice them into their lair. There goes years of proud parents supporting their kids...turned into an act of suspicion and political corrrectness. Grrr!

Frank's Farewell

Sad events closed the week. Our suspicions that Frank's limp was something more serious were confirmed. The X-Ray showed a huge bone cancer which was casuing him pain. 'I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this' said the vet, 'you should be thinking about having him put to sleep'. We took him home for one last night and at 10.50am today he departed. However he did leave a little reminder of himself on Dunbar High Street before he went in. I managed to scoop most of it up, but I left his pee on the lamp post for all other dogs to remember him by. As dogs go he was a good one, and the hunt will soon be on for another...watch this space! Picture: Frank with Isabelle a few weeks ago

XC Running

We did our first cross country (XC) run on Sunday. Isabelle and Andrew did the juniors race (nearly 2 miles) and I did the seniors. Andrew beat Isabelle much to her annoyance and I beat a couple of rivals from Haddington. It was icy cold and running through the river tested the insulating properties of my scrotum to the limit. Here's the results

Poor Frank

Did I mention that my two Labrdors are named after my uncles Frank and Harold. Well Frank (the black one) has developed a limp and the vet reckons it could be cancer causing it. He's off for an x-ray at great expense, and if they find one then I am afraid Frank will be off to the big kennel in the sky. At 12 he'll be dead in a year or so anyway so why allow him to suffer? My financial suffering as a result of it is not an issue at all in these weeks approaching Christmas. He may however just be nursing a pulled muscle and may be ok. We will know on Friday.

Holy Huggable

This 'Richard's Club' thing has got me searching the net for resources to use with the little munchkins and belive me there is some pretty dodgy stuff out there that sells itself in the name of God. However some of it is just entertaining for its cheese factor and the naievity of it producers and buyers that their product will actually help their cause. Take for example HolyHuggables where you discover Jesus and Moses and Esther were all American and required chest compressions before they spoke. Amazing, but I want one. Unfortunately Jesus has sold out...of stock that is. The slightly more upmarket version is still available and rumour has it, he healed Action Man's old war injury the other day. On a similar theme, my five year old son Stuart has discovered those novelty keyrings that have recorded messages from 'D' class celebs. His favourite is 'Mr T' and I found him wandering around Borders saying 'I'm not getting in a plane you crazy fool'. Unfortuantely he found a Catherine Tate one and was trying to work out what 'facking' meant in HMV.

Richard's Club

I started off a new Bible Club at the Primary School last week. The Head Teacher asked me to do it because the kids are supposed to have a space to reflect and discuss the stuff they are taught in RE about different faiths. Remember this is me doing a primary school club with all my phobias of under 12's. Week 1 saw an impressive 25 kids turn up and apart from a few mix up's with dinners they seemed to enjoy it. Week 2 was ridiculous. 51 kids turned up and there I was leading them in an action song and morphing into a crazy kids praise leader. The Head (Mrs Manson) stuck her head around the door which would have been reassuring, but I was in the middle of a line dance at that point. One step further and she would have been stripping the willow with me.
I am not sure why they come and for how long, but whilst they do I am not complaining. I've not come up with any cheesy catch phrases yet, but the name of the club, which was not of my choosing, is very poor. 'Richard's Club'. A competition to rename it is underway...any suggestions would be welcome but for moral reasons, other spellings of the name 'Richard' beginning with 'D' and rhyming with Mick will be ignored.

I'm Buzzing

After my mockery of Uncle Frank's bee keeping interests, look who is the world leading writer on the subject.

White (middle aged) men don't rap

I went to a Christian children's musicians concert the other day with the Primary School. I was not really looking forward to it as for those of you not familiar with Christian children's worship leaders, the act usually involves a pair of ridiculous brightly coloured dunagrees and a harlequin patterned sweatshirt to try and convince kids that being a Christian makes you crazy and fun! One act popular in the 90's actually sounds like the music from the Coco Pops advert, but the lyrics are a bit more meanigful if not as sickly as the product itself. He had a whacky name too , Ishmael and I wondered what my stage name would be if I got into this scene...Rikmael perhaps? How about 'Rich T's Praise Party' or 'Isabelle's Dad's Embarrassing Praise Party'. This guy we went to see was ok... called Fischy Music after his name Fishbakker (much thought went into that one) he did some fairly thought provoking stuff and managed to neatly fit the words into the tune...unlike some of these jokers who often try and cram the book of Revelation into a bouncy chorus with funny actions. However he did come unstuck when he made the fatal mistake (in my mind) of trying to do a rap. As soon as the back to front baseball caps came out I knew what was coming...and started flicking his fingers out to da rhythm of da beat. For a moment he forgot he was a greying Scottish bloke who writes some really good stuff and is far too old and white to look like a rapper.

My protest at this sort of thing extends to other people slightly out of place singing...with one exception that I will come to. The worst culprit is the Halifax advert where bank managers forget themselves and start dancing in that odd way in the middle of the street. There's one for a magazine where the plumber and a housewife do the unspeakable thing of cramming the magazine name into a popular tune and doing a whacky dance. However only one advert gets off the hook...and that is Whites Lemonade. Probabally the original to feature this style of marketing, but undoubtedbly the best. They all revolve around the supressed urge for straight laced people to let their hair down and let it rip in public. You would never find me doing that would you?

Brass Monkeys

It's brass monkeys weather just now and I shall soon be sporting my Porthmadog hat to keep the chill off my balding head. Today saw the first frost and the first woodpecker of the season. I think it was a Great Spotted variety as it was quite big and was in woods behind our house. If you live in Manhester and want tosee a woodpecker then there used to be regulars nesting in the golf links at Heaton Moor near the Peel Moat. However, you are more likely to find the cider variety of Woodpecker in the bushes around the park, along wih the lesser spotted Lambrini, crested Groslch and speckled diamond white. Look for the tell tale signs of empty chip papers, vomit pools where regurgitation has occured and goz puddles.