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Menorca Tour 2001
So they say what goes on tour stays on tour. But hey, in this new interactive world we must spread the word about our great tour. So I’m sitting here in a sweaty computer room in North Cockney writing a tale about how a group of Leek munching, ferret sh*gging yokel layabouts spent a weekend in Menorca having a jolly jamboree of bo*locks, with the embarrassing bits cut out as it may cost people there jobs! It was a week ago today that we embarked on our journey to the forgotten land (err you what?) of Menorca leaving Birmingham airport at a disgraceful time of day. Things started very well as we were all there on time fresh faced and bags packed. Unfortunately the check in girl didn’t like the look of my cricket bat so I was distraught to have to leave the holy blade with the ‘odd looking bag section’ or whatever it’s called. We all had a cheeky tipple at the airport before the 9am flight, which didn’t go down too well in some people’s cases! The journey was very smooth as people tried to avoid sitting next to Jason who was somehow gonna manage to go 2 hours without a tab. Viz was pretty much the order of the day and people could be heard snorting and guffawing right across the plane. We arrived bang on time and it was sh*t hot. Straight to the pool we thought with jars of San Miguel. Half of the cricketers went to the Castle pub about 14 yards away from 22 Sh*t Street where we were saying. Clever Howard came up with the first d*ckhead comment of the weekend with ‘Where’s the Castle’. It doesn’t sound like a silly question but if you can imagine the biggest feck off building that looks like a castle in view from where he was stood then you’ll realise what a ridiculous question it was! The rest of the day was spent dawdling around swimming in the pool and swimming in the Med which was fantastic. And of course the ale was well and truly flowing. A great meal in the evening, where the topic of conversation was very entertaining (sexually transmitted diseases), preceded a visit to the Table football bar where some of the older generation of cricketing folk were being extremely enthusiastic about the game. We ended up in the Caves after this and what a place it was. Basically a club that’s wedged onto the side of a cliff face in some old caves. Fit birds and expensive alcohol were the order of the day and we met up with a great couple, Clare and Adj from Sutton. Had a great larf completely taking the p*ss out of her cockney accent and fooling around. We were the last to leave and we got the DJ to stick on Roger Sanchez for us at the end so Howard me and could jump around like complete a*ses. Had an entertaining walk back which contained a police officer and an empty bottle of sun tan lotion but we won’t go into that. Saturday we woke and felt ruddy awful but nothing a swim in the pool could cure. We then made our way to the Cricket club on a hot muggy day. See match report below for full details. The evening was much of the same, a swim in the pool followed by an evening meal and lots of drinkypoos. Mark Selby tried to convince me that he taught Dennis Bergkamp all he knows about football. It was a very entertaining tale about how Den (as he likes to call him) used to come down Grafton on a weekend so Mark could teach him a fresh skill! Of course I believed him and was amazed, as I never new Mark new so much about football. Maybe the drink helped me to believe him… Yet again the table football was very much the centre of attention and there was a pattern forming as the partnership of Nick Morgan and John Tatlow were caning everybody. Nick Morgan’s little jig after every goal he scored was very entertaining. Thanks to Terry Gasper for pointing that out to me as I think I cried with laughter for about a minute every time he scored. We visited the Caves again in the evening where we stayed very late yet again. Howard pulled a windmill and I spent a fortune but it was still very entertaining. Unfortunately I was a little bit drunkard so I don’t remember much. Apart from walking back with my top off, reading Rogers profanisaurus and laughing loudly then passing out on top of my bed. The following day we again had a dunk before going to play cricket which I’m pretty sure not a fat deal of people were looking forward to. See match report again for more details. That evening was our last on the island so we all congregated at the Castle for the fines committee to reveal our sins. I got fined for being absolutely fantastic of course… know that’s bullsh*t I got fined for having brilliant pecks and apparently calling Larry something but I don’t recall that at all. We stayed and drunk a silly amount in the Castle then went to the table football bar for more err yeah table football believe it or not! I had to insist on buying lots of drinks because the way the guy behind the bar said ‘Cheers mate’ was well funny. It was kind of like ‘Chiss Mayet’ and it cracked me up something chronic. We left there about 4.30 after dancing in a highly comical manner to Bob Marley and we had a cup of tonic as take out so we could carry on drinking gin at the apartments. Unfortunately Rob spilled it. Of course he was completely sober as we all were, I mean we are all law abiding honest sensible young gentlemen after all. We decided to cool off from the hard walk back in the pool where Rob bottle-fed me San Miguel whilst I was treading water. The evening came to a sorry end when Howard kicked a football at the bottle of gin, which nearly made grown men weep as it shattered all over the place. It was about 6am after all. So it came to going home the following day. We decided to push it when it came to the flight, as Robbo hates queuing which is something I totally agree with. We said our goodbyes to Mark and Clare as the b*stards were staying for a week. Plane journey was pretty standard but we did get 2 portions of the fantastic Airtours bangers and mash and a row of seats each. Apparently someone was completely taking the p*ss when we got back because the rain was pelting down. I got back to my cockney gaff around 4ish; I’d treated myself to the highly expensive Virgin Trains, it was very good timing, as Countdown was about to start. So that is the censored version of our weekend away, no mention of Swiss girls, Herman the German, t*ts, falling asleep in clubs and old men dancing like fools for people to worry about. If anyone would like to add to it then please let me know. I had an assignment to be handed in the day after I got back. I was working with a girl; she’d done the bloomin lot. What a fluky get eh? So after the weekend all I had left to look forward to now is the daily afternoon entertainment of William G Stewart on 15-1 and Countdown. What a crazy rock and roll lifestyle us students live.. Match Report for Game 1 Temple Grafton got an absolute caning off Menorca in the sunshine at Biniparrel. Losing the toss and being made to field wasn’t the greatest of starts as Grafton had a very week bowling attack. It is a plastic wicket so there is always going to be benefits to the Batsman as they can get used to the conistancy. A solid start was made by the Menorcan’s as the seemed to be able to cream us all around the park, a missed stumping by TB didn’t help matters and he was distraught as the batsman proceeded to get about 70 odd. They finished on 246 for 5 off the 40 overs and I think that is the biggest total set I’ve experienced as a Grafton player. Not much to shout about in the bowling department, Nick Morgan was probably the pick as he managed to get 2 wickets. Fielding was solid and there was a superb catch from Robbo. When batting Grafton made a disastrous start, losing both openers early in consecutive deliveries. Tom Benjamin being awfully unlucky to be bowled by an absolute beauty (or am I talking cod sh*t). We were then bowled out for a pitiful 108 but the bar was open and we supped the superbly refreshing San Miguel. We also had a fascinating conversation about how hardly any of us had been for a wee all day! Not much else to report, the ground and pavilion were as splendid as ever and we quietly made our way back home promising to make a better game of it the following morning. Match Report for Game 2 Temple Grafton lost to menorca by 9 wickets in the scorching heat in the Second game on tour. Grafton won the toss on this day and decided to bat first. The opening pair of Anthony Holt and Tom Benjamin made a solid start as they put on 75 before the loss of the first wicket. Tom being the first out being bowled for 33. Probably good timing as I think the heat may just have been getting to him a little! Grafton then continued steadily finally running out of overs on 165 for five. A much improved performance than the previous day. Anthony Holt was the pick of the batting with a cultured 39 and Anthony Clarke hit an absolute beauty of a six that will be remembered for a long time to come. I think the stroppy opening bowler also deserves a mention as he was unlucky not to get a wicket. He was consistently fast and accurate which is probably not the best kind of bowler Graftoners want to face! The bowling aspect unfortunately carried on in a similar vein to the previous day and the menorcan’s knocked of the runs with over 13 overs to spare. A lot more entertaining game however Grafton could do with a full strength side to challenge the ver competitive Menorcan side. Speeches followed and TGCC were presented with a commemorative plaque to say the game took place. The hospitallity was again first class and everyone mingled in a very happy manner. Other things to note being that of Howard and Clare who watched both days. No meen feet especially as Grafton played so badly! Also the flatulence of Tom Benjamin on the bench needs a mention as after the match a chap came up to me shook my hand and said ‘That was the best fart I’ve ever heard’ of which I was very proud. |
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