100% Chance of Rain
Around the age of ten, most boys develop a distain for kisses in public from their mums. Ball and Butcher are no exception. Ball fought hard as his mum came on to the minibus to give the seatbelt trapped lad one last kiss before he embarked on the BTeam tour of South Wales. Natalie failed dismally, as did Beccy as she even tried to sneak into the front of the bus to get to Butcher. Sons 2, mums 0 the final score. A passing stranger appeared and had a chat with Burr, misheard his name and to the delight of his team-mates, inadvertently gave him a new nickname of Rupert. We are joined for the tour by Matt Gore, a former player, referee in training and stooge to many of Big Harris’ unfunny jokes and impersonations.
Big Harris plays DJ and decides to make a playlist of the boys’ favourite songs. He expected recent chart hits, he got The Muffin Song, I Like Trains and a Thomas the Tank Engine song. Butcher, little Harris, Badham and Fogg the guilty parties. I tried to raise the credibility of the list by adding ‘Meat Pie Sausage Roll (Come on England, Gi's a Goal)’. Big Harris’ DJ career was over before it had even started.
As we crossed the Severn Bridge, the rain began to fall.
The services see Little Harris and Rupert in a race to spend the money they must have worked so hard for, obviously completing numerous chores to have so much disposable income . The former buying enough chocolate that shares in Cadbury’s actually rose and the latter, a Welsh rugby ball that was immediately confiscated by the mean Big Harris. It was noticed that Evans was doing a great captain’s job by speaking to every person individually but when he came away from each conversation with a sweet or a piece of chocolate, his true motive was identified, scrounging. He was very successful.
Ball got blamed for some erroneous smells on the minibus as the tourists continued their journey in good spirits. Butcher and Little Harris at the heart of most things loud. Thankfully Caerphilly was reached and true to form the boys lost all ability to talk and communicate.
The rain began to fall again.
Caerphilly were a good footballing outfit who had the better of the early stages and deservedly took the lead. G Balkwill was responsible for keeping the tourists in the game as the homeside dominated. Acrobatically pushing one shot up and onto the bar before knocking it away for a corner. Gloucester came more into the game as they neared halftime with Ball holding the play up well and Badham winning the ball more in midfield. Badham gained his reward when he latched onto a superb ball from Butcher, cut in from the left and fired in to the roof of the net from a tight angle. The second half was more even as Evans, Moroney and Burr imposed themselves more on the game. Caerphilly’s winner came just as Gloucester were having a good spell, capitalizing on space left in front of goal to fire home from the edge of the area.
The boys enjoyed watching the second game from the stand. Moroney, Little Harris, Burr and the Balkwill’s miraculously regained use of their vocal chords and loudly chanted throughout the game from the back row. Caerphilly were fantastic hosts and Ball received a Caerphilly bobble hat for his Gloucester player of the game display, the rest of us received sausage and chips and a nice thank you speech.
We reached the hotel in the rain but not before Ball got blamed again. Big Harris gave out the room allocations with the least number of moans ever. Big Harris tested Young’s gullibility by showing him a mark on a pillow and as he looked was hit with the pillow. Amazingly this was repeated. I then kindly offered him a bottle of water for the evening and for some reason he was extremely reluctant to accept it and just looked at me rather suspiciously. Fogg was not embarrassed to wander around his room in just his underpants and Rupert kept up his smile for the whole of the day. Big Harris and I were worried that there was a secret potion that he had been given and that it had not been passed onto us for the rest of the tour. Moroney was happy to continue to let Rupert do all the talking. The Balkwill’s seemed happy to be separated and Badham seemed happy to not be separated from his imaginatively named teddy ‘Ted’. Butcher was barricaded into his room and given two minders in Evans and Little Harris to stop him wandering too far if he sleepwalked. Hotel staff provided the next line defence and Securicor were on standby if they failed.
Butcher slept soundly as the rain began to fall again.
The Balkwill’s celebrated their Welsh heritage by insisting on us watching their heroes batter the All Blacks in the third-place play-off in the rugby world cup. 5 minutes later I insisted they watch the whole of the game as they were taking a battering themselves. G Balkwill proclaimed that the only reason we were making them watch was so that we could take the mickey out of them more. He was right. The waiter Garrett was great with boys and told them that in Wales people sing ‘Kumbaya My Lord’ after breakfast. Evans, G Balkwill (who should have known better) Fogg, Ball, Badham and Mr Gullible himself, Young all believed it and began singing. Garrett also set the all the boys a challenge of who could wipe clean the tables the best. All bought into it. I declared Garrett the winner. They may be the best- behaved bunch we have had (so far) but they are certainly the most easily fooled by far.
The rain did not begin to fall.
The GPSFA’s annual donation to the local economy or visit to the Mumble’s Pier as some call it was enjoyed by all. Burr tried to give more money away by leaving his wallet for a local to find. Luckily I was that local. The Badham family made a quick exit on our arrival and refused point blank to take some boys with them. Young Badham hardly gave them the time of day, preferring to push 2p’s into a hungry machine. Burr tried to give more money away by leaving his wallet for a local to find. Luckily this time Big Harris was that local. Taking the squad for meal was almost pleasurable as they continue to be really well behaved. Big Harris is getting twitchy as his behavioural skills are still not required.
The journey to the Swansea game is memorable for two things. D Balkwill explaining that he is 52% Welsh. Sonia and Simon have some explaining to do. The second, Moroney sending his parents a lovely message even though they had not taken him to the exciting and very hot Las Vegas, leaving him to enjoy a very wet Wales and penny arcade instead. What was not memorable was Big Harris’ relentlessly unfunny impersonations of Gore. Rupert is still happy and smiling and Ball took the blame again.
The rain began to fall again.
Swansea kicked off the game at 14:38 precisely. Unfortunately, Gloucester kicked off at 14:48 and were three-nil down by this time. The tourists just had no answer to the slick home side. Balkwill again did well to keep the score down with some unorthodox but effective saves. As Gloucester grew into the game, the rain grew in strength as well. Both sides continued to contest the game in good spirits despite the poor conditions. Moroney, D Balkwill, Butcher and little Harris, playing in a new central midfield role, were the pick of the Gloucester side that deserved credit for persevering and doing their best to match Swansea in the second and third thirds. It turns out that G Balkwill’s knock to his finger was worse than feared and had sustained a small break. This did not prevent him from going swimming though.
I love swimming time on tours, I get an hour or so of peace and quiet while Big Harris gets dunked, scratched to shreds, beaten up and drowned. His bravery is without question, his sanity certainly is. The boys emerge full of energy having defeated everything the pool could throw at them, slides, rides, wave machines and Big Harris’ had all been conquered. Tales of heroics in the pool are tempered a little when Big Harris gives the following report: Evans and Young failed dismally to kill him, Badham was a big man from 20 metres away, Butcher was king back scratcher, Ball was ‘rubbish’ at trying to drown him and Burr just giggled. Whatever the truth was, thoughts turned straight to food.
We join the girls’ team for a slap-up meal a TGI Fridays. G Balkwill, with one finger in a make-shift ice pack orders a chicken wrap but held the onions, salsa, guacamole, avocado, peppers, salad, apples, pears, oranges, bananas and just about any other foodstuffs he could think of. He literally had chicken in a wrap. Both Balkwill’s show that knives and fork use is very much frowned upon in their house while Young does a great impersonation of a savage. Big Harris exacts some sort of revenge as he calls on all forfeits lost in the pool to be fulfilled. A shot of vinegar is to be downed. Evans an D Balkwill’s faces were a picture, Moroney and Ball were not too impressed and it seemed no problem to Burr who even contemplated asking for another.
Ball was blamed again on the short ride back to the hotel and the energy remained high…until the realisation that we would be doing diaries again.
The rain began to fall again.
With diaries completed, room inspections showed that all are capable of keeping nice tidy rooms (just like they do at home no doubt!) and all receive high marks. Fogg wanders around his room in his underpants and Butcher is barricaded in once again. Big Harris is getting twitchy as he is still unable to use his behavioural skills.
The rain began to fall very heavily.
At breakfast the boys had learnt from the previous morning and only put things on their plates that they were going to eat except for Ball who lost a point when he was beaten by a few coco-pops in his bowl and hundreds over his tray. The girls filled their plates with oranges and bananas, the boys didn’t.
Bags bulged and zips were strained as clothes, boots and teddies were neatly stuffed and pushed into any opening that could be found. Folding was something only mums were allowed to do. Burr losing the only point on checkout, leaving a full bottle of shampoo, naturally Lynx, in the shower.
We arrived at Bridgend and there was no rain and no parents. The rugby world cup taking precedence over their offspring but as kick-off approached some parents materialised. As the score progressed in the world cup, more appeared. Still no rain.
Bridgend prefer to officiate games without a referee on the pitch. In my opinion a recipe for disaster as demonstrated by last year’s kick-fest and shambolic flouting of every rule. This year there was only one controversial decision with the spectators behind the goal giving a goal when it was clear to anyone on the sides whether it had gone through the side netting. With G Balkwill still nursing his injured finger, Burr stepped up to the fold and took his place between the sticks. He did well, making a few saves and commanding his area with great authority. The homeside were the better team. Able to play the ball around at pace and were stronger in the challenge all over the pitch.
The rain began to fall again.
With Bridgend four-nil up Gloucester finally began to match them for effort and determination. Badham and Butcher scored fine goals to reduce the arrears and give the travelling fans something to cheer about after England’s failure in the World Cup and their third straight soaking in three days. Four-two the final score.
No after match food meant yet another services visit, with an agreement that our ‘contingency lunch’ would be saved until after the Cardiff match and the boys could buy something a little more to their liking. Burger King and Greggs did very well. Big Harris and I joined them just to make sure that what they were eating was edible of course. Evans the scrounger was doing good business and managed to gain a whole sausage roll from little Harris. G Balkwill kindly reminded me that England had lost the World Cup Final.
The rain continued to fall.
We had brilliant seats at the Cardiff City Stadium. A great view, nobody around us and ideally placed to let everyone know that it was still raining…hard. The Balkwill’s were in their element. Draped in the blue and white Cardiff scarves they cheered on their favourite team. It was an exciting game, six goals, two sendings off and enough rain to fill a swimming pool, all of it seeming to fall on us. G Balkwill hatched a plan to gain the goalkeepers shirt at the end of the game. Right near the final whistle he would shout to Neil Etheridge so it was in his mind at the appropriate time. For the final few minutes he sat all on his own in the front row shouting as best as he could. Etheridge spent the final minutes half way up the pitch and Balkwill’s excellent plan failed miserably, but he was still happy with the four-two win.
The rain continued to fall.
As the tired travelers passed over the Severn Bridge, and as if by magic, the rain began to ease. It finally stopped near the last services stop of the trip. A quick stop ensued, just enough time to eat the ‘contingency lunch’ but not enough for the scrounger to gain any extra’s though. On the last leg, Ball still got blamed, Burr was still smiling and Butcher and Little Harris attempted one final go at starting another sing-song. Little Harris then set about hiding as many things as he could on the mini-bus for me to find the next day. Big Harris tried to perfect his Matt Gore impersonation yet again and yet again it was not funny.
The boys have been great fun, extremely well behaved and a credit to their parents and the GPSFA. I think they have all enjoyed themselves and learnt a little more about being self- reliant. A great trip despite the results, three days of virtually continuous rain and a broken finger.
Roll on London where Boris has promised to make rain illegal.
Tour party:
G Balkwill and finger, Little Harris and his loudness, Rupert and his smile, Underpants Fogg, Evans The Scrounger, Mr Unbelievably Nice Moroney, Leo and Ted, 52% Welsh Balkwill, Backscratcher Butcher, Ball and his smells, Mr Gullible Young, Gore the Stooge, Big Harris the impersonator not and of course Perfect Paul.
Wix.
Big Harris plays DJ and decides to make a playlist of the boys’ favourite songs. He expected recent chart hits, he got The Muffin Song, I Like Trains and a Thomas the Tank Engine song. Butcher, little Harris, Badham and Fogg the guilty parties. I tried to raise the credibility of the list by adding ‘Meat Pie Sausage Roll (Come on England, Gi's a Goal)’. Big Harris’ DJ career was over before it had even started.
As we crossed the Severn Bridge, the rain began to fall.
The services see Little Harris and Rupert in a race to spend the money they must have worked so hard for, obviously completing numerous chores to have so much disposable income . The former buying enough chocolate that shares in Cadbury’s actually rose and the latter, a Welsh rugby ball that was immediately confiscated by the mean Big Harris. It was noticed that Evans was doing a great captain’s job by speaking to every person individually but when he came away from each conversation with a sweet or a piece of chocolate, his true motive was identified, scrounging. He was very successful.
Ball got blamed for some erroneous smells on the minibus as the tourists continued their journey in good spirits. Butcher and Little Harris at the heart of most things loud. Thankfully Caerphilly was reached and true to form the boys lost all ability to talk and communicate.
The rain began to fall again.
Caerphilly were a good footballing outfit who had the better of the early stages and deservedly took the lead. G Balkwill was responsible for keeping the tourists in the game as the homeside dominated. Acrobatically pushing one shot up and onto the bar before knocking it away for a corner. Gloucester came more into the game as they neared halftime with Ball holding the play up well and Badham winning the ball more in midfield. Badham gained his reward when he latched onto a superb ball from Butcher, cut in from the left and fired in to the roof of the net from a tight angle. The second half was more even as Evans, Moroney and Burr imposed themselves more on the game. Caerphilly’s winner came just as Gloucester were having a good spell, capitalizing on space left in front of goal to fire home from the edge of the area.
The boys enjoyed watching the second game from the stand. Moroney, Little Harris, Burr and the Balkwill’s miraculously regained use of their vocal chords and loudly chanted throughout the game from the back row. Caerphilly were fantastic hosts and Ball received a Caerphilly bobble hat for his Gloucester player of the game display, the rest of us received sausage and chips and a nice thank you speech.
We reached the hotel in the rain but not before Ball got blamed again. Big Harris gave out the room allocations with the least number of moans ever. Big Harris tested Young’s gullibility by showing him a mark on a pillow and as he looked was hit with the pillow. Amazingly this was repeated. I then kindly offered him a bottle of water for the evening and for some reason he was extremely reluctant to accept it and just looked at me rather suspiciously. Fogg was not embarrassed to wander around his room in just his underpants and Rupert kept up his smile for the whole of the day. Big Harris and I were worried that there was a secret potion that he had been given and that it had not been passed onto us for the rest of the tour. Moroney was happy to continue to let Rupert do all the talking. The Balkwill’s seemed happy to be separated and Badham seemed happy to not be separated from his imaginatively named teddy ‘Ted’. Butcher was barricaded into his room and given two minders in Evans and Little Harris to stop him wandering too far if he sleepwalked. Hotel staff provided the next line defence and Securicor were on standby if they failed.
Butcher slept soundly as the rain began to fall again.
The Balkwill’s celebrated their Welsh heritage by insisting on us watching their heroes batter the All Blacks in the third-place play-off in the rugby world cup. 5 minutes later I insisted they watch the whole of the game as they were taking a battering themselves. G Balkwill proclaimed that the only reason we were making them watch was so that we could take the mickey out of them more. He was right. The waiter Garrett was great with boys and told them that in Wales people sing ‘Kumbaya My Lord’ after breakfast. Evans, G Balkwill (who should have known better) Fogg, Ball, Badham and Mr Gullible himself, Young all believed it and began singing. Garrett also set the all the boys a challenge of who could wipe clean the tables the best. All bought into it. I declared Garrett the winner. They may be the best- behaved bunch we have had (so far) but they are certainly the most easily fooled by far.
The rain did not begin to fall.
The GPSFA’s annual donation to the local economy or visit to the Mumble’s Pier as some call it was enjoyed by all. Burr tried to give more money away by leaving his wallet for a local to find. Luckily I was that local. The Badham family made a quick exit on our arrival and refused point blank to take some boys with them. Young Badham hardly gave them the time of day, preferring to push 2p’s into a hungry machine. Burr tried to give more money away by leaving his wallet for a local to find. Luckily this time Big Harris was that local. Taking the squad for meal was almost pleasurable as they continue to be really well behaved. Big Harris is getting twitchy as his behavioural skills are still not required.
The journey to the Swansea game is memorable for two things. D Balkwill explaining that he is 52% Welsh. Sonia and Simon have some explaining to do. The second, Moroney sending his parents a lovely message even though they had not taken him to the exciting and very hot Las Vegas, leaving him to enjoy a very wet Wales and penny arcade instead. What was not memorable was Big Harris’ relentlessly unfunny impersonations of Gore. Rupert is still happy and smiling and Ball took the blame again.
The rain began to fall again.
Swansea kicked off the game at 14:38 precisely. Unfortunately, Gloucester kicked off at 14:48 and were three-nil down by this time. The tourists just had no answer to the slick home side. Balkwill again did well to keep the score down with some unorthodox but effective saves. As Gloucester grew into the game, the rain grew in strength as well. Both sides continued to contest the game in good spirits despite the poor conditions. Moroney, D Balkwill, Butcher and little Harris, playing in a new central midfield role, were the pick of the Gloucester side that deserved credit for persevering and doing their best to match Swansea in the second and third thirds. It turns out that G Balkwill’s knock to his finger was worse than feared and had sustained a small break. This did not prevent him from going swimming though.
I love swimming time on tours, I get an hour or so of peace and quiet while Big Harris gets dunked, scratched to shreds, beaten up and drowned. His bravery is without question, his sanity certainly is. The boys emerge full of energy having defeated everything the pool could throw at them, slides, rides, wave machines and Big Harris’ had all been conquered. Tales of heroics in the pool are tempered a little when Big Harris gives the following report: Evans and Young failed dismally to kill him, Badham was a big man from 20 metres away, Butcher was king back scratcher, Ball was ‘rubbish’ at trying to drown him and Burr just giggled. Whatever the truth was, thoughts turned straight to food.
We join the girls’ team for a slap-up meal a TGI Fridays. G Balkwill, with one finger in a make-shift ice pack orders a chicken wrap but held the onions, salsa, guacamole, avocado, peppers, salad, apples, pears, oranges, bananas and just about any other foodstuffs he could think of. He literally had chicken in a wrap. Both Balkwill’s show that knives and fork use is very much frowned upon in their house while Young does a great impersonation of a savage. Big Harris exacts some sort of revenge as he calls on all forfeits lost in the pool to be fulfilled. A shot of vinegar is to be downed. Evans an D Balkwill’s faces were a picture, Moroney and Ball were not too impressed and it seemed no problem to Burr who even contemplated asking for another.
Ball was blamed again on the short ride back to the hotel and the energy remained high…until the realisation that we would be doing diaries again.
The rain began to fall again.
With diaries completed, room inspections showed that all are capable of keeping nice tidy rooms (just like they do at home no doubt!) and all receive high marks. Fogg wanders around his room in his underpants and Butcher is barricaded in once again. Big Harris is getting twitchy as he is still unable to use his behavioural skills.
The rain began to fall very heavily.
At breakfast the boys had learnt from the previous morning and only put things on their plates that they were going to eat except for Ball who lost a point when he was beaten by a few coco-pops in his bowl and hundreds over his tray. The girls filled their plates with oranges and bananas, the boys didn’t.
Bags bulged and zips were strained as clothes, boots and teddies were neatly stuffed and pushed into any opening that could be found. Folding was something only mums were allowed to do. Burr losing the only point on checkout, leaving a full bottle of shampoo, naturally Lynx, in the shower.
We arrived at Bridgend and there was no rain and no parents. The rugby world cup taking precedence over their offspring but as kick-off approached some parents materialised. As the score progressed in the world cup, more appeared. Still no rain.
Bridgend prefer to officiate games without a referee on the pitch. In my opinion a recipe for disaster as demonstrated by last year’s kick-fest and shambolic flouting of every rule. This year there was only one controversial decision with the spectators behind the goal giving a goal when it was clear to anyone on the sides whether it had gone through the side netting. With G Balkwill still nursing his injured finger, Burr stepped up to the fold and took his place between the sticks. He did well, making a few saves and commanding his area with great authority. The homeside were the better team. Able to play the ball around at pace and were stronger in the challenge all over the pitch.
The rain began to fall again.
With Bridgend four-nil up Gloucester finally began to match them for effort and determination. Badham and Butcher scored fine goals to reduce the arrears and give the travelling fans something to cheer about after England’s failure in the World Cup and their third straight soaking in three days. Four-two the final score.
No after match food meant yet another services visit, with an agreement that our ‘contingency lunch’ would be saved until after the Cardiff match and the boys could buy something a little more to their liking. Burger King and Greggs did very well. Big Harris and I joined them just to make sure that what they were eating was edible of course. Evans the scrounger was doing good business and managed to gain a whole sausage roll from little Harris. G Balkwill kindly reminded me that England had lost the World Cup Final.
The rain continued to fall.
We had brilliant seats at the Cardiff City Stadium. A great view, nobody around us and ideally placed to let everyone know that it was still raining…hard. The Balkwill’s were in their element. Draped in the blue and white Cardiff scarves they cheered on their favourite team. It was an exciting game, six goals, two sendings off and enough rain to fill a swimming pool, all of it seeming to fall on us. G Balkwill hatched a plan to gain the goalkeepers shirt at the end of the game. Right near the final whistle he would shout to Neil Etheridge so it was in his mind at the appropriate time. For the final few minutes he sat all on his own in the front row shouting as best as he could. Etheridge spent the final minutes half way up the pitch and Balkwill’s excellent plan failed miserably, but he was still happy with the four-two win.
The rain continued to fall.
As the tired travelers passed over the Severn Bridge, and as if by magic, the rain began to ease. It finally stopped near the last services stop of the trip. A quick stop ensued, just enough time to eat the ‘contingency lunch’ but not enough for the scrounger to gain any extra’s though. On the last leg, Ball still got blamed, Burr was still smiling and Butcher and Little Harris attempted one final go at starting another sing-song. Little Harris then set about hiding as many things as he could on the mini-bus for me to find the next day. Big Harris tried to perfect his Matt Gore impersonation yet again and yet again it was not funny.
The boys have been great fun, extremely well behaved and a credit to their parents and the GPSFA. I think they have all enjoyed themselves and learnt a little more about being self- reliant. A great trip despite the results, three days of virtually continuous rain and a broken finger.
Roll on London where Boris has promised to make rain illegal.
Tour party:
G Balkwill and finger, Little Harris and his loudness, Rupert and his smile, Underpants Fogg, Evans The Scrounger, Mr Unbelievably Nice Moroney, Leo and Ted, 52% Welsh Balkwill, Backscratcher Butcher, Ball and his smells, Mr Gullible Young, Gore the Stooge, Big Harris the impersonator not and of course Perfect Paul.
Wix.
