Bulls Take On the High Flying RAF

 The Bulls ventured to RAF Holton on the up; heads in the clouds after last week's 1st victory of the campaign. Could they sustain any semblance of a recovery or was this just false hope?

Things started badly...

There was a water machine but no cups for the Camel to sate himself with and his game proceeded to be as dry and arid as his throat; a shame because his oppo' was of a very similar style. He sucked whatever juice Nige had left and very quickly it became apparent that this was not to be his day.

(0-3)

Meanwhile Piggin had arrived on his motorbike with his arm in a sling (is that legal?) and played with all of the indifference of a man protecting injuries. His foot still hurts and his body is telling him to take a week off. Unfortunately we have the super 2nds next week so he might need to imbibe a couple of Coops's horse pills.

(0-3)

St. John continued his revival with a comprehensive demolition of a lanky, keen oppo' who just couldn't live with the fading masters accuracy and drive. This time his legs didn't wobble at 2-0 up and he finished the big bird off with much to spare.

(3-0)

Coops stepped on court in fine fettle and high on confidence after a controversial win against me at the weekend, but was soon befuddled by an oppo' who kept getting in the way. The marker didn't help to tidy things up, leaving Jim frustrated and searching for inspiration. He was 2-1 down when I took to the court for (as I thought) the last game of the evening.

My match lasted about as long as the warm up; I'm not sure whether my oppo' knew if he was left or right handed. He unwisely stuck with the southpaw and made Mike Chapples look deadly accurate.
I think I dropped four points but am not sure how. Nice guy, p*ss poor player...
(3-0)

I stepped off court to meet Jim coming off court. In the time it had taken me and my mate to warm up and play, Coops had snuck the 4th game. So the whole match stood at 0-3/0-3/3-0/3-0 and 2-2 in what was now to be the decider. The air was ripe with tension and flatulence; we were in for a humdinger of a cliffhanger...

Whamo; 9-0 love to Coops.
(3-2)

This made the final result 10-9 (14-9) to the Bulls.

An odd evening of squash, all strangely bloodless.

We repaired to the bar for burger, chips and beer; my birthday supper ended in the two teams serenading me with a version of 'Happy Birthday' that would have made a dead man wince...

Bring on the Super 2nds. Unless Gazza resorts to unseemly selections it should be quite a night next Tuesday. Gareth reckons he's back on song, shedding much weight, benefit of his new grape diet.

I think he's looking a little too smugly confident, don't you?