8th May 2019

On 16th April, while Sue took Ellis to see the film Dumbo, Peter and I visited Sarah in Newbold Verdon. We tore up the decking surrounding their summer house, which the previous owner had neglected and was now in a sorry state. It took us most of the day, with only a brief pause for a fish and chip lunch.

On 20th April, Sue and I went to see a Queen tribute band called Mercury at the Lighthouse Theatre in Kettering. They gave a decent performance, though, having never seen Queen perform in the flesh, I can only judge by what I’ve seen on TV and in the 2018 film Bohemian Rhapsody. The audience around us was certainly enthusiastic, singing and clapping along to every song. The band has been going for twenty years and was authentic in their reproduction of the music, yet somehow, I felt a little disappointed, and I’m not quite sure why.

On Easter Sunday, the family gathered in Rothwell for lunch, prepared by Charlotte. Sarah and Lee brought dessert, far too much, and we supplied some of the drinks, not enough. Jamie had flown out to Corfu earlier that morning with a couple of his friends.

After a splendid meal, we decided to take the dogs and the boys for a walk. My knee and foot, which had been troubling me for months, had finally started to feel okay. So why, then, did I think it was a good idea to chase after Lucas, especially when running was what had torn my knee ligament in the first place? As I set off, it briefly crossed my mind that I really shouldn’t be doing this… and then the inevitable happened. Something exploded in my foot.

I’m now back in pain with a torn right anterior talofibular ligament. How stupid can you get? The number of times I’ve insisted that children and fellow rugby players warm up before any explosive activity is countless throughout my long teaching and coaching career. So why didn’t I take my own advice? Clearly, with age comes stupidity!

Still, life goes on. The following morning, I drove up to Newbold Verdon with Peter to lay the new decking for the summer house. My foot was sore, but I took it carefully and let Peter handle most of the heavy lifting. Lee joined us on the second day, and we managed to finish the job by 6 pm, just in time for him to paint the new decking as we drove back to Harborough, before the light faded completely.

With the arrival of much-needed rain, I managed to sow three rows each of carrots and beetroot in my top allotment. Fortunately, the inclement weather took a break for the couple of hours it took to finish the task. Being distrustful of weather forecasts, I also made sure to fill up my four water butts, just in time, as the rain started again the moment I finished! Pleasingly, the potatoes had begun to sprout, the onion sets were growing strongly, and even some of the asparagus were making an appearance.

On my way home, dodging a brief shower, I was keen to keep the momentum going and set about transplanting lettuce from the greenhouse into one of my raised vegetable beds. Once again, as I finished, another shower arrived. With such luck, shall I buy a lottery ticket? I wondered. I didn’t, so I’ll never know if I could have been the next UK millionaire. At the time, Charlotte was on a streak of four consecutive wins of a free Lucky Dip. How fortunate (or unfortunate) is that?

The Friday night family gathering for curry (26th April) didn’t take place, Jamie was still in Corfu, Sarah and Lee were recuperating in Newbold Verdon, and Charlotte’s household was stuck indoors, with Ellis suffering from a sickness bug. Sue decided to make the most of the unexpected free evening and booked a ticket to see a Bob Dylan tribute band in Kettering. For once, I didn’t join her. Dylan’s music has never really appealed to me, and his failure to attend his own Nobel Prize award ceremony certainly didn’t endear him to me, or, I imagine, to many of his fans. The tribute performance had plenty of unsold seats. Instead, I stayed at home with my poor feet up, watched a film on Netflix using the cinema system, and enjoyed a bottle of Château Vin-allo as company.

On the 27th, I faced a dilemma: should I go to Welford Road to watch Leicester Tigers take on Bristol Bears, or stay local and watch Harborough 1st XV play Dronfield from Derbyshire in an end-of-season promotion match? I made the right choice, I chose Harborough.

The weather was dreadful, cold, windy, with the occasional spot of rain, but the rugby was outstanding, better than anything I’ve seen at Welford Road in quite some time. The skill, commitment, and drama were worthy of a Premiership match.

Opting to play into a fierce wind, Harborough soon fell behind by two penalties (0–6). When one of their forwards, George Lee, received a red card for foul play, after a lengthy discussion between the referee and the intervening female linesman, their chances of victory looked bleak. Dronfield, a strong side, attacked relentlessly with the wind at their backs, but Harborough’s 14 men stood firm, tackling like demons. When they did gain possession, they proved lethal in attack, scoring a try to edge into the lead (7–6).

However, after conceding a succession of penalties, their defence was finally breached on the stroke of half-time, and they went in trailing (7–13).

With the wind now in their favour, Harborough crossed the whitewash early in the second half, but the conversion was missed (12–13). A penalty soon put them ahead (15–13), but Dronfield’s defence was as tenacious as Harborough’s had been, and they broke away to score an unconverted try (15–18). Harborough responded with another penalty (18–18).

As full-time approached, Harborough forced their way over the try line, only to fumble the ball on grounding. Frustratingly, that was the last action of normal time, and the whistle blew. Now, two ten-minute halves of extra time had to be played.

Had Harborough’s efforts been in vain? They had played with 14 men for most of the match and now had another 20 minutes to endure. Did they have anything left in the tank?

Against the wind once again, they conceded an early penalty (18–21) but saw out the half with resilient defence. Now, with the wind at their backs, they launched a flowing attack and scored out wide, with a superb touchline conversion nudging them ahead (25–21).

With the clock ticking down, Dronfield mounted wave after wave of attack, leading to a yellow card for Harborough. Down to just 13 men, they clung on desperately. In the dying moments, it looked certain that Dronfield would score, but as often happens in these tense situations, the final pass, one that would have led to a match-winning try, was fumbled just a metre short of the line. The whistle blew. Harborough had done it!

What drama, what a game!

Oh yes, the Tigers lost at home to Bristol Bears. Having led for most of the match, they were defeated at the death by a try from ex-Tigers player Harry Thacker. There’s still a chance they might be relegated. They have never, in their history, lost back-to-back games to Bristol.

I definitely made the right choice.

It proved to be a highly successful end to the season for the club as a whole. The Under-13s, 14s, 16s, and 17s were all crowned County Champions, while the Under-15s and Colts narrowly missed out, both finishing as runners-up in their respective finals. I attended the Under-16s final in Market Bosworth after a day spent working on Sarah’s summer house in nearby Newbold Verdon, and the Colts were unfortunate not to secure victory in their final at Welford Road. One of their tries was particularly impressive and deserved a better outcome than second place.

Beyond the end-of-season rugby, I have been keeping myself busy in one garden or another. The renovations on Sarah’s summer house are now complete, Charlotte’s path in the chicken run has finally been finished (after a winter’s delay), and I installed an alarm system in Jamie’s new house while he and a friend put up a fence to enclose their waste bins. The greenhouse is now fully planted with tomatoes and cucumbers. This year, instead of using grow bags, I have created my own growing medium from grass turf, leaf compost, and soil from two large tubs I planted up last year. It’s a bit of an experiment, but I have saved £24, and it should work; time will tell.

It has been an eventful time since my last post, not least due to the election of our local councillors. Sue was so appalled by the conduct of our Parliamentary representatives that, for the first time, I couldn’t persuade her to vote. I, however, made my way to the polling station and opted for a fresh, Green alternative. While I don’t fully align with their stance on Brexit, it seems that, like much of the voting public, I have had my fill of the deceptions peddled by the traditional parties.

It is deeply regrettable that many hardworking, conscientious, and democratically-minded local councillors have been ousted as a result of the failings of our toadying, self-serving, and supposedly national representatives. Now, to add insult to injury, it seems we are set to endure the farcical (and costly) process of participating in European elections despite the fact that we are supposed to be leaving the EU in October. Or are we being duped yet again? And does a majority, however slim, still hold the power to decide an outcome? It appears that the principle may no longer apply. Remind me again: what is the title of this post?

Just as I was about to publish this blog, I stumbled upon yet another headline (which will come as little surprise to many).

Hundreds of MPs, including Jeremy Corbyn, Boris Johnson, and nine Cabinet ministers, have had their official credit cards suspended by the expenses watchdog. A total of 377 MPs have been penalised since 2015 for failing to provide receipts or repay ineligible expenses. The Independent Parliamentary Standards Authority initially attempted to suppress this information, claiming that disclosure would have a ‘chilling effect’ on its relationship with MPs. However, a former High Court judge overturned the decision, ruling that the risk of embarrassing MPs was no justification for keeping the details secret.

On a rather different note, in a previous post, I mentioned a former pupil who had been arrested in connection with the suspicious deaths of two people he had lived with. His case has now come to trial, and it appears that the quiet, exceptionally intelligent eight-year-old I once knew had the potential to be something far more sinister. Ben Field.