Saturday, 3 January 2015

Week 22 - Stewart's first gramble abroad


Stewart was an amazing person -  A wonderful husband, a fantastic brother, a loving son and an adored uncle.  He was also a brilliant friend and colleague and will be missed by so many people. His family are determined that his death will never be in vain and are doing their part to beat bowel cancer for good.  We are fundraising for the Bobby Moore Fund which is part of Cancer Research UK and specialises in research into bowel cancer.  If you wish to donate to the fund, you can via https://www.justgiving.com/Geraldine-Smith3 .

 

If you haven’t already done so, please read the article which appeared in the Daily Record and learn from Stewart’s story that you must never be complacent.  It makes grim reading for us, his family, even though we were beside him throughout his ordeal, or battle; call it what you will. http://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/lifestyle/heartbroken-widow-geraldine-smith-raises-3452997

 

His wish was that The Grambler should continue after his death and I have been happy to oblige.  Welcome to The Grambler, the most ill-informed blog you are ever likely to see. Read on and enjoy…

 

Dear Grumbler,

Here is a teaser for you.  Which club was the first to appoint Bill Shankly as its manager?  This was in 1949, ten years before he joined Liverpyool.

Your servant,

Karl Aisle.

Well the new year is now underway.  I know it is the new year because the TV is chock full of adverts for slimming clubs, charities, sofas, beds and holidays.  Obviously, travel agents see this as the point most people start planning the year’s holiday.  I have seen an ad for a company called Eurocamp and it has reminded me of the first holiday when I took the family abroad.  It was actually a great holiday if you disregarded the 33 hour bus journey to reach the south of France.  As a treat for you here is a memory of Stewart’s from that holiday…

“When I were a lad....
At the age of 3, I was taken on holiday for the first time to some coastal place in
France. I have very little memory of this trip with the exception of being sick on the bus for the whole thirty hour trip there (which I am told severely pissed off a coach-full of pensioners) and the following tale...

We were relaxing on the beach a couple of days into the holiday, my mum having a nap and my dad reading a book whilst my brother and I play with a crappy plastic football.... Well I say that, my brother was doing that typical elder sibling thing whereby he played with the ball and told me I wasn't allowed to. "What an utter c***" thinks I. Actually, that is probably a lie as I was only 3 and had yet to add the word 'c***' to my vocabulary... "What a jobbyhead" thinks I.

Turning to look out at the sea, I see about fifty balls, just floating there, not a soul playing with them. They are beckoning me like sirens to come and enjoy their ball-like greatness! It is probably the greatest sight I have ever seen in my entire (rather short) life! So I start to run. Faster than I've ever run before, as there are quite a lot of French children on the beach and there is no chance they're getting to play with my balls (snigger). I somehow manage to speed up my wee legs even more as I enter the home straight, the sea is now but meters away...

Now I probably should mention that at such a young age, I couldn’t swim. I also had no armbands on and was fully clothed as my parents didn't want me to burn. About two meters from the sea, I was rugby tackled by my dad. I have never seen my dad run. He has a gammy leg which prevented him from being the sporty type for most of his life. As I was so focused on the footballs in the sea, I never noticed him running on this occasion, which is a shame really as it was the first time he had run in 20 years and also the last time he ever ran.

As I was led back up to the sun lounger, which seemed to be miles away, I was getting a bollocking from my out-of-breath dad. I tried to protest my innocence; I had only wanted to play with the glorious sea balls.

It turns out we were on a beach next to a harbour and I had just attempted to sprint off the end of a jetty into a rather busy dock, to claim a buoy to play with.

I've never been allowed to forget this.”

That was an item Stewart wrote for b3ta back in August 2010.  Hope you enjoyed it.

Before we continue with the rest of this week’s drivel can I draw your attention to another young life lost due to bowel cancer?  Please head to the most recent entry in the blog of Kate Elizabeth Gross a young mother whose suffering ended on the morning of Christmas day - http://kateelizabethgross.wordpress.com/ .  As so often happens when a young person has bowel problems, doctors did not consider cancer to be a possibility and so correct diagnosis was not made until it was too late.  It’s so sad and so familiar and just emphasises the need to ‘make a fuss’ if you are concerned about bowel problems.  Don’t be fobbed off with a doctor’s view that you are too young to have bowel cancer; just quote the links given in this blog to him or her.

Okay, lecture over, let’s get on with the usual bollocks.  Any birthdays on the 3rd of January?  Why yes… Clement Atlee 1883 (a modest man with much to be modest about), John Ronald Reuel Tolkien 1892 (hobbit), Ray Milland 1905 (baker), Victor Borge 1909 (twoderful pianist), Bill Travers 1922 (lion tamer), George Martin 1926 (Fifth Beatle), Sergio Leone 1929 (spaghetti manufacturer), Robert Loggia 1930 (lumberjack), David Vine 1936 (white or red), John Thaw 1942 (speech impediment), Stephen Stills 1945 (friend of Bing Crosby and Frazer Nash), John Paul Jones 1946 (pope), Victoria Principal 1950 (the first Victoria), Mel Gibson 1956 (Spice Girl), Gavin Hastings 1962 (greeting), Michael Schumacher 1969 (cobbler) and Lee Bowyer 1977 (footie bloke).

Could anyone in there provide us with a toon worth gramblerising?  I think Mr Stills is the chappie for that…

Wouldn't you know we're grambling on the Marrakesh Express.
Wouldn't you know we're grambling on the Marrakesh Express,
They're grambling me to Marrakesh.
All aboard the train.
All aboard the train.

Let’s move on to grambling matters.  What happened last week?  We won.  Yay.  No, not yay; we only won £1.72.  48 pees down.  Three out of five went our way, but the odds were so rubbishy we didn’t even get our stake money back.

Right.  What about this week?  Once again, the fixtures are all over the place because of Gramblemas and new year hols.  How many senior league matches are taking place at 3pm this Saturday the third of January in the year of our Lord 2015?  Are you ready for this?  25.  Not many.  It’s all down to this being the weekend when the third round of the F A Cup take place.  Ne’er mind, eh.  What has The Grambler randomly selected for us?

Game – Result – Odds

Newport County vs Carlisle – Prediction Home win – 4/5

Falkirk vs Alloa – Prediction Home win – 8/15

Queen of the South vs Livingston – Prediction Home win – 8/15

Morton vs Airdrie – Prediction Home win – 4/5

Arbroath vs Montrose – Prediction Home win – 4/11

Hmm, all home wins.  Pretty low odds too.  Could this be the week when The Grambler finally gets it right?  Doubt it.  Anyway, if that were (miraculously) to happen, The Grambler’s Kick Cancer’s Backside Fund will be donating the grand sum of…

£7.21

…That is rubbish!  Seven quids and 21 pees?  Hardly a fortune.

Hey, it’s teaser time!  Woo hoo.  Last week I asked who is the only goalkeeper who has won every domestic and world title it is possible to win.  The answer is Iker Casillas.  He has won everything with Real Madrid and Spain – five Liga titles, two Champions League crowns, one Copa de Rey, four Supercopas, a Uefa Super Cup and the Intercontinental Cup for his club plus Euro 2008, Euro 2012 and a World Cup in 2010 for his country.  Not a bad haul.

Now, a teaser for this week.  Only three managers have won top league (Premiershit or the old Division 1) titles with two different clubs; can you name them?  Not the clubs; the managers.  Perhaps not as easy as last week’s teaser, but shouldn’t be a problem for all you knowledgable gramblerinis out there.

And finally, Cyril?  And finally Esther let us finish with a look at the original and best comedy pianist: the late, great Victor Borge   Please click on the link, sit back and enjoy.


Happy Grambling.

 

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