Sent Off

Sending Off and cricket are usually only mentioned in the same light when something ugly occurs after a wicket. Usually involving somebody in a baggy green cap. Also usually containing several references to the promiscuity of the other player’s mother. And usually involving Shane Warne.

Thursday night, however, changed all this. And whilst some may argue that there was a fair amount of ugliness towards the backend of the evening (and I'd like to take the chance to apologise to Cuzza for forcing him into doing a shot that resulted in an impressively controlled regurgitation), an otherwise impressive event was put on @ 24:London in Soho.

Whilst probably having the least representation form my friends group there (particularly grating after snaring the top spot at the Launch party), I must give credit to the performance of my mate Mick and his girlfriend, whom had only flown from Oz fairly recently, and who didn't baulk at the charge of £5 per beer. Nor did he get annoyed by the Barstaff completely misunderstanding the meaning of 'discretionary'. Pr1cks. Also putting in a fine performance for the evening was my friend Vanessa, who kept us all guessing by oscillating through 4 or 5 different moods throughout the evening. The part where she lost her handbag briefly was my definitely my favourite. Definitely no tears, nor barging through the crowd in a huff.

Helpful Hint: Don't eat dough balls smeared in garlic butter 20 minutes before going out

Prior to the night I was jumping out of my skin, and the good times didn't let me down. I would only hazard a guess in saying that Living On A Prayer, amongst many other cock-rock classics, have never been played in such a venue prior to last Thursday night. Brushing aside my fury that none of the tracks I suggested (Time to Pretend and Let Me Clear My Throat) got played, I made an executive and drink-fuelled decision that, since the soundtrack to my uni days was being belted out, I may as well dust-off the Jackabonie.

Jackabonie: (noun/adjective) An act of a forceful extension of the arm from the elbow, delivered with a weak wrist to illicit a snapping motion, performed in time with a massive drumbeat. Naturally at home during 80's rock. Always followed by collective gasps of 'oh that's awesome'

 

After wowing the crowds with several Floyd Mayweather-style combo's, I decided to let the mere mortals take the attention. Alex '£500' Rayner was particularly animated, played to the soundtrack of BJ roaring primitively at passing girls. Several incidents come to mind, including foolishly questioning the behaviour of Butler's dog to his wife Nicky, asking Van where she had left her handbag, standing next to Mike Preston, and (judging by several injuries the next morning) attempting some dance moves that may have been beyond my capabilities and/or Motor Neurone capacity.