Football Match

To say I'm a sportsman would be verging on a lie. I do go to the gym, I do like to swim... but rarely do I play a physical sport. Well that was until work came up with a football team.

I have a dull deskjob at the moment, not exciting but still its a job. When I heard in the office, departments were putting together 5 a side teams for some charity matches, I thought it sounded like a bit of fun. I do wonder if that day I was actually thinking at all, because I offered to join in.

I don't think it was actually until the week of the match and parting with £5 that I actually realised I was going to be playing football.

One guy from work had got us kits. I am not the fullest of frames and as I slipped over the un-washed sweat wrenching red nylon football shirt, I looked down to what was more like a 4 man tent than a top.

I smiled a half nervous smile and took the kit off and sat down to continue my work. As I tapped away at the keyboard it dawned on me...tomorrow I would be playing 4 matches with different teams of serious players and I was the amateur that had joined for a joke.

I woke up on Wednesday morning with excitement. Don't ask me why. I went into work and the office was buzzing for the match, everyone was coming to watch and everyone was talking about it.

The excitement was short lived and went when the horror stories started. I can honestly say I have never owned a Shin-pad in my life, so when I was asked if I had brought them a blank look crept across my face. I got told to shove two magazines down my socks and strap them with tape. I started to sweat.

Thankfully, my work mate turned team mate, came back from lunch with new shin-pads. I was touched and ready to go, then I looked down at the packet and realised they were childrens size. Shocking as it is, they fitted like a glove.

We all got changed into our kits and got ready to leave for the match.

As I saw people start to run about on the 3 pitches kicking balls and practicing, panic suddenly darkened my face, questioning if I actually knew how to kick a ball. It wasn't until my team mate kicked the ball to me and it continued to go past me, that I realised I didn't know how to stop a ball, let alone kick it.

We got to practice for about 5 minutes and then we got told who we were playing and within seconds the whistles were blown.

We had started to play and I was on the sidelines at first. I watched the ball go back and fourth, people fall over and people getting knocked about. My team mate came over and it was my turn to go on.

I ran about chasing players and the ball, up and down. I was positioned right next to the goal at one point, within perfect scoring distance. My team mate passed the ball to me ready to score a goal, instead it went through my legs and offside. It was an easy mistake to make I reasured everyone.

Match 2, I started on the sides again. This team looked very serious and when they started playing I realised they were a team I didn't want to actually play.

It came to the point I was dreading, my team mate starting panting and turned to me as if he wanted to change over. With fear I shouted, "You're doing great, hang in there!" and turned my back on his puffing in hope he would continue.

He continued to play sweating more and more and getting more and more tired. Guilt crept over me, so as he went to take what looked like it might be his final breath, i ran on the pitch as he came off.

Within seconds the whistle blew and it was the end of that match.

I decided that in the next match I would start and play the whole match. The whistle blew and I got confidence and was running about chasing the ball. I tackled a few times tripping over, apologising to everyone even when it wasn't my fault.

As the match progressed and a couple of kicks later I was faced with running for a ball against the goalie.

As if in slow motion, I ran for the ball thinking, just tackle him Daniel!! Then just as I was close to getting the ball, the goalie that was built like a semi-detached house with a swimming pool of sweat attached, threw all his weight and his belly at me knocking every possible bit of wind left in my body.

Struggling to breathe, I looked to my colleagues cheering us on and signalled the need to change player. My friend responded, "Come on Daniel, pull yourself together!"

If I could have breathed, I would have said a lot more than my scowl as I limped off the pitch. I gradually got my breath back, staring at the goalie that didn't look as if he lost so much as a puff.

One more game left to play. I ran on and ran about, my 4 man tent flapped in the wind and my legs ached. We had a quick swap over and the match was over.

Just when I thought I could finally go to the pub for a well deserved drink, a woman came up to us and asked for a picture of the team... I didn't see the photo, but I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have been my best one.

We won 2 of the matches, lost one and drew one. My legs still ache as we speak and I'm not sure if I will ever have all the air back in my lungs that is meant to be in there.

No wonder I stick to the gym... Football is a dangerous sport, but actually a lot of fun.

Dinner Time

I get into the car, switch on my engine and start the drive over to my friends where he and his partner are cooking dinner for me. They always cook such nice dinners, my stomach rumbles and I look at the clock knowing that i'll make 7.30, the time they wanted me to arrive.

I always enjoy being a dinner guest. I guess I love to have someone cook for me, where I don't have to do much but provide conversation and maybe my washing up skills after.

As I pulled up to their flat I checked my phone to see a text had been received:

COULD YOU MAKE IT 8PM, WE'RE RUNNING LATE, X

I looked down at the clock which read exactly 7.29pm and quite frankly couldnt believe they had only just sent me this. There was no point in going back, so I replied that I was here and I'd wait in the car.

All sorts went through my head as to why exactly they needed the extra time. I got an instant reply:

YOUR HERE? OH...WELL COME UP X

Of course I am here, I was told 7.30pm. I locked the car and bounced up the stairs going through their flat door which was open.

I was greeted by them both wearing what I could only describe as outfits from the orignal Fame movie, with a smirk I realised they must have only just got in from the gym.

As I walked in ready to start the evening, my friend turned around and said, "Were just off out for a run, make yourself at home, we'll be back in about 25 minutes."

I must have had the most shocked and dumb-founded face I had ever had. It was now 7.35pm and as I sat down on the sofa and watched the two spandex runners leave the flat I looked around the room thinking, where are the hidden cameras?

I turned on the sky and started watching the television, inbetween intervals of TV I continually said out loud, "What has just happened?"

25 minutes were up and it was just past 8pm when the two now sweaty hosts, came back through the door.

I instantly perked up and put their weirdness behind me ready to hear the sizzle of a frying pan and smells from the oven...Instead I heard the shower turn on and the bathroom door shut.

It was now 8.30 and they were still refreshing themselves from there run. I had watched the television for a good hour when my hosts came into the room with beaming smiles. Would my dinner evening finally start?

8.45pm the oven went on, as we got chatting I saw them preparing the dinner and when I heard one of them say to the other, "Do that first it takes 45 minutes to cook!" I looked down at my watch and calculated that the actual time we would be eating after preparation would be 10pm.

As my stomach let out a whine, I took my glass of wine and smiled with enthusiasm letting them carry on preparing. Deep in convo whilst his other half was cooking, we chatted, looked at old pictures, laughed and drank wine whilst my stomach yearned for food.

As the night progressed my friends phone beeped and indicated he had received a text. As he turned the phone I noticed the time read 7.54pm. I double looked at the phone, then looked at my friend.

Only then did it dawn on me... The clocks had gone back.

I had turned up for dinner at 6.30pm. An hour and a half earlier than when I was actually wanted.

We laughed so hard no sit ups were required that evening. I had a lovely dinner, but still cannot forget the looks on their faces when I walked in at what I thought was 7.30pm, while they were in their leotards ready for their run.

I do love being a Dinner guest...at any hour!

Riding the Train

Never one to be late... I rushed out of my house and ran until my heart was actually in my throat, bolted into the station when I realised I had left my discount card back at home. £18 for a day travel card and a sweating face later I sat in a seat by the window on a fairly deserted train.

I'm quite a friendly guy, so I smiled to the woman a few rows ahead and instead of a smile back, she closed her eyes and i'm pretty sure she turned up her Ipod blanking me out.

As the journey progressed the train filled up with the morning commuters, most wanting to keep themselves to themselves and the rest ready for the day ahead. As the train became more and more populated, seats becoming fewer, I started to realise that the one next to me was still empty.

My first instinct was to smell my arm pit...This was something I wanted to do discreetly so I waited for the lady to my right to look the other way and as she did, shot up my arm taking in a quick smell.

My arm pit smelt fine, which would have reasurred me if it wasn't for the man standing behind me seeing me do it. I smiled awkwardly at him, which I'm pretty sure he took as if I was coming onto him and turned his back.

I was now sitting next to possibly the only seat free, people had got on and some were standing up. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't craving some company, but I suddenly felt very insecure.

I decided to drop my head back and close my eyes.

I woke up to an elbow in my side and a faint noise in my ear. I must have fallen asleep for 10 minutes and someone had taken my empty seat.

I looked at the man who had consummed his chair and was dripping over onto mine and realised that his elbow wasnt the only discomforting thing about him... He snored.

As i sat their regretting wanting the seat to be filled, the man snored on and I wondered why my car didn't start this morning. The more he snored, the more I found myself looking at him in disgust.

I looked at him with a scowl for what must have been the 40th time and just in that moment his eyes opened and stared at me staring. Instead of quickly turning away, I found myself not moving, making an awkward moment even more hideous.

The man smiled awkwardly and looked the other way the rest of the journey.

Thankfully the train pulled into the station and I was soon to be out breathing in the fresh air.

Safe to say my journey home was with my eyes shut, even if half of it was me pretending to be asleep.

My First MOT

Ok, so I have had a licence for two months now and my car for about the same time. Amongst panicking about speed cameras, forgetting to close my petrol cap when driving off and realising that I do actually have a rear windscreen wiper, I am finally starting to enjoy driving.

I have however, had a few issues with the car... After much work, the tow rope snapping as i'm going round a busy round about and finally understanding that the spare tyre in the boot is actually needed and not just there for show, I am finally relaxed enough to drive with the radio on and not worry that my exhaust will fall off!

However... My smooth riding has yet again come to a stop light! A light in the shape of my MOT. (Yes I brought a car with only 2 months MOT and Tax left on it!)

I went to the MOT test garage and handed over my keys, having no clue what I was doing. As I got directed into the reception I waved goodbye to my car and was ready to sit down and chill-out.

Instead, I walked through the reception door where the room temp was possibly hotter than a sauna. I took off my coat, then came the scarf, then the jumper and to be honest if it hadn't been for the man wearing an anorak, I think the T Shirt would have come off too.

I sweated for half an hour, worrying about whether or not I was about to be hit with a huge bill! As another bead of sweat descended my brow, the reception door opened the man looked at me opened his mouth and said..."WELL YOU FAILED."

It was like a teacher shouting at a pupil. I shrunk down into my chair while like an exploding bomb he reeled off the 5 things wrong with my car.

At the same time another man came into the reception saying, "Blimey it is hot in here." I had lost a stone and felt like i'd been walking the desert and he turns on the air con as I'm leaving the room.

I followed him out to reception where he continued talking at me and then he stopped. He looked at me expecting an answer instead I just had a blank expression on my face! I looked down at the receipt, to see his name was printed B J Davis (a small smile did creep over my face.) He took my card, I punched in my pin and left feeling like I had just come out of the police station.

Luckily my Sister and her partner had been there and were equally shocked.

After complaining many times out loud about the rudeness of the man and swearing I would not be using him for the mending of my wheels ever...I rang him up and booked my Clio in for the work.

Yes, I caved.

Welcome

Hi Guys,

This is my first blog, so firstly i'll say hi.

I decided to set it up for one main reason...I'm a writer.

In this time where jobs are hard to find, employers aren't offering many jobs and there are hundreds of applicants per role, I felt it time to show the world my writing in another way! (Well at least until I can get some work!)

I finished Uni last year. I studied English Lit and Journalism.

I'm 24, (just) I have a thing about my age and worrying about getting older! Which is a growing concern as I grow with age.

I come from Essex, but am far from your average Essex boy.

I hope you like my posts.

Enjoy the light hearted writing thats coming.

Cheers for dropping in.

Daniel