You little Neymar!

15 07 2018

We have family staying with us at the moment – Scottish Wife’s sister Sue, her daughter and son-in-law and their two adorable kids. Well, I say adorable, but yesterday I was playing monsters with nearly-three year old Jarvis (as you do) when I accidentally trod on his little sister’s toe. Lerryn’s not quite ten months old, but she’s got quite a pair of lungs on her, let me tell you.

“I hardly touched her!” I appealed to the rest of the family who were gathered in the kitchen, in the manner of a World Cup soccer player hoping to avoid a yellow card while their alleged victim is rolling around on the pitch in apparent agony. After a minute or two Lerryn stopped crying and started to giggle.

“You little Neymar!” I hissed at her and then had to explain the reference to Granny Susan.

It’s been a wonderful World Cup – I’m writing this an hour before the final kicks off between France and Croatia – only partly spoilt by the histrionics of player such as Neymar – but Lerryn’s going to be hearing about this from me for years to come…

All da best!

Dave B.

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F**k Racism!

25 06 2018

I’ve been loving the World Cup so far. Obviously, as an Englishman of a certain age, I know it will all go pear-shaped at some point (usually the round of 16), but for the moment I’m basking in the joy of a last minute win for England over lowly Tunisia followed by a 6-1 thumping of even lowlier Panama.  With a game to go in Group G we’ve already qualified for the knockout stages!

I’m relishing the fact that 32 games have now been played without a single 0-0 draw (take that, soccer haters!), diving and grabbing seems less prevalent than at previous tournaments – perhaps as a result of players knowing that Big Brother (VAR – Video Assisted Replay) is there to watch their every move – and fears of fan violence have so far proved unfounded.

I’m contractually obliged to hate the German team (since 1966 they always seem to beat England, usually on penalties) so I was slightly miffed when, on the verge of elimination on Saturday, they scored from a stunning free kick in the 92nd minute against Sweden to stay alive in Group F.

The poor Swedish defender responsible for giving away that free kick, Jimmy Durmaz, was distraught after the game. Things got worse when many hateful comments were made on social media. Yesterday, after their training session, the Swedish squad got together and this is what Jimmy had to say:

You may not like the language but I hope, like me, you applaud the sentiment.

Heja Sverige! (Go Sweden!)

All da best.

Dave B.

 

 

 





So then Donald says…

11 06 2018

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Donald Trump: “That Trudeau* – he stabbed me in the back. But you other guys – Merkel, Macron, May – I’d say our relationship is about a 10.”

Angela Merkel: “And I’d say you’re acting like you’re about 10, Donald.”

(Good grief! Will it never end?”)

All da best.

Dave B.

*The US president called the Canadian prime minister an “asshole”. When the prime minister learned of it, he responded: “I’ve been called worse things by better people.”

(It was actually Richard Nixon talking about Pierre Trudeau in 1971, but let’s not ruin a good story…)





Pub Story

8 03 2018

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I had to go back to England recently. Wife Julie came with me for two weeks and our children Kate and Joe also came over for a quick four day stay. The occasion was sad – my mum had passed away – but it was wonderful to have the entire Brooker family together including relatives, some of whom hadn’t seen each other for a decade or more.

The day after the funeral the four of us visited some of our old haunts around the picturesque town of Wimborne in Dorset. We decide to have lunch at a pub we used to go to when Kate and Joe were small – the Barley Mow at Colehill. It’s an old thatched country pub dating back to the 16th century. Oliver Cromwell is said to have stayed there on his way to lay siege to the Royalists at Corfe Castle in 1645, and his troops are supposed to have prayed in nearby God’s Blessing Lane before going into battle, but then again every old pub in Dorset has some such tale to tell.

Anyway, we found a free table right next to a roaring log fire and I went up to the bar to order our drinks. There was a notice on the counter asking customers who wanted to run a tab to leave their credit card at the bar. I went to hand over my card, but the landlord – a big, burly chap – told me there was no need. To get the full flavour of what happened next you need to read the following with a Dorset accent (or, if you’re Canadian, a Newfie accent will probably do just as well):

A fellow at a nearby table now addressed himself to me, speaking loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear: ” ‘Ere, mate. You lot are sittin’ in the wrong place. You don’t wanna be sittin’ over by yon fire. You wanna be sittin’ over by the door, so’s you can do a runner.”

I explained that my days of nipping out of pubs without paying were long over and pointed out that the landlord was a lot bigger than me, almost certainly a lot tougher, and that he’d probably kill me if he caught me.

“What, ‘im?” came the scornful reply. “Ken wouldn’t catch you in a month of Sundays. Truth is, that old bastard couldn’t catch a cold, never mind catch you.”

Cue gales of laughter all round, from customers who’d likely heard the same line many times before.

Mum would have loved that story!

 

All the best.

Dave B.

 





The many sins of Marina Mahabir

15 01 2018

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Now please don’t misunderstand – my friend Marina is a wonderful person. To quote just one of her many admirers: “Marina is a flawless individual with an outstanding taste in men.” (Admittedly that quote is from Wayne, her husband, but even so…)

It’s just that there are a few things Marina won’t put up with. And as Marina and I are in Mexico right now (not just me and Marina, but Wayne as well. Oh and Scottish Wife too, in case this is all getting a bit confusing) Marina needs to make it clear to the local population that there are some things that are just not going to happen.

For example, Marina’s convinced that the water here should never be consumed by tourists, so whenever she orders a drink she says ‘sin hielo’ (‘no ice’). She’s also a keen conservationist, so she’s recently added ‘sin popote’ (‘no straw’) to the order. And, of course, being allergic to various types of sea food she also gives a very firm ‘sin camarones, sin fish’ whenever her meal is being discussed.

So, to sum up, whenever Marina is in Mexico and gets the chance to ‘sin’ – she takes it!

Abrazos, amigos!

Sr. Dave





Something to laugh at…

23 12 2017

No, not my golf game. That would be cruel. Fair, but cruel.

I sent the following message to my golfing buddies a few days ago, just before a layer of permafrost settled over Glacier Greens golf course and ended any lingering hopes I had of re-discovering my game before 2017 drew to a close:

It’s not been a good year for me. In fact, I’ve been playing so badly I had to get my ball retriever re-gripped.

So, to take my mind off my golfing woes, here’s one of the funniest animal voice-overs ever. It’s an oldie, but definitely a goodie:

Merry Christmas and a lovely 2018 to all ye golfers and non-believers alike.

 

Dave B.

 





Haka challenge

13 11 2017

It’s cold, wet and very windy here in Beautiful B.C. and – not surprisingly – the golf course is closed for the day. I’ve toured the back yard and picked up two garbage cans worth of debris. I’ve spent an hour or so with Scottish Wife sorting out receipts dating back to the dawn of the century. And now I’m on my third cup of (very strong) coffee while I peruse the latest in the world of sport. No golf on TV today (it’s a Monday), no soccer either except Italy v Sweden (and I don’t have that channel), no cricket (the ritual slaughtering of the England team at the hands of the Aussies doesn’t start for a couple of weeks yet). But what’s this? The Rugby League World Cup and a pre-match tête-à-tête between Samoa and Tonga:

Goosebumps, eh?

Dave B.

P.S. I’m trying desperately hard to make a link, however tenuous, with golf and this is the best I can come up with: how about a golf haka at the next Ryder Cup with the teams led by, say, Ian Poulter and Patrick Reed? Now that would get the fans fired up…