Roy Of The Rovers is a comic strip that has been on the go since the 1950s and chronicles the trials and tribulations of the fictional Melchester Rovers football club and their star striker Roy Race. They’ve done it all. Won the FA Cup, the European Cup, had match fixing allegations levelled at them, experienced death, earthquakes, oh the stories go on. His brash manner, golden locks and dazzling football skills made him famous until the magazine it was published in, the Match of the Day Magazine was cancelled in 2001. Thus ending his near 50 year career – well, imaginary career.

I never really read it much when I was a kid but when I think about it all I remember is him coming on and scoring the winning goal in the dying seconds to win the FA Cup – which is pretty much every boy’s dream when kicking a ball around a park. Not me though, I was rubbish at football. I used to play in goal (as I’ve mentioned before) and had no confidence, frequently being at the receiving end of a heavy defeat in matches. But as I got older I grew in confidence and while I never had dreams of being a pro, I do enjoy playing and scoring. Plus, I can do keepie-ups like a pro even if I can’t play like one!

I play 5-a-side football about 3 times a week for fun and when I was asked if I could play for a league 6-a-side team who were short of players I jumped at the chance. I’d not played “competitively” since I was that skinny keeper all those years ago so I was quite looking forward to exorcising those demons. The team I was to be playing for were second-bottom of the league and we were playing the top team. It was going to be tough work.

I was instructed to play as the centre-forward and just “shoot whenever you get the chance, they won’t let you have much time on the ball” and not to stay back and defend – they needed an attacking outlet and that was me. Oh, and they’d kill me if I tried any showboating! Before the game I was pretty relaxed, not tense, just ready to go at it. I’m fit, strong and pretty fast so I had nothing to fear. I just didn’t want to let the team down.

So the ref blows the whistle and almost immediately I’ve got the ball and I’m running down the left wing and take a shot that’s a bit off target. A minute later I get completely thrown into the wall in a rather harsh challenge that the referee doesn’t spot, despite the fact that the other team thought it was a foul and the guy who did it even apologised. But I don’t get angry, I just pick myself up and play on. Another couple of minutes later and I pick up the ball on the half-way line, run a couple of paces forward and lash the ball at the far top-corner of the goal and score! 25 yards out and there was nothing the keeper could do. I was shocked.

Their defenders were having a hard time staying on me as I love drawing people to me and doing darting diagonal runs to make space for myself. We were all over them but they managed to get a goal back and at half-time we were at 1-1. The second half comes along and they manage to score quickly and go ahead. Then the ball is fired up the left wing at me, so I run it into the corner. By this time I’ve realised that the opposition are really hard tacklers so I expect the defender to run right at me. He does, so I spin anti-clockwise with the ball at my feet and lash it, right-footed into the near top corner. Fantastic!

They score again thanks to a lucky deflection and then I find myself running into the corner again. A call from Chris and I back-heel it diagonally into his path so he can hit it with his right foot (I know he’s right-footed you see). He blasts it and scores! We could just about win this match yet. Once again, the ball comes to me and after a quick one-two I nip between two defenders and fire the ball through the legs of the keeper for my hat-trick. I’ll celebrate later.

Unfortunately they managed to come back to win 7-4. We seemed to lose our shape at the back and they were able to attack several times (even getting another lucky deflection). I wanted to run back and defend but was mindful that I’d been told to stay up front (I did defend a couple of times though). I’ll give them their due, they played really well as a team and were highly motivated to win. Impressive.

But I just couldn’t believe that I came on and had such a good game. I’m not a bad player, but I wouldn’t say I was particularly hot – I just like performing tricks to entertain the crowd. Although I didn’t do anything like that in this match. However, if I were Roy Race I’d have made sure our team won in the dying seconds so in that respect I was disappointed. The bottom line with team sports is that no matter how well you play, if the team loses you’re pissed off. I’d rather have scored zero if we’d won, to be honest. But I’ll take the hat-trick, and if I ever play that well again (which I seriously doubt) I’ll go for more.

There is a caveat though. I phoned my brother (who scored his share of hat-tricks in his youth) and told him all about it. He asked what the age group was, thinking it was 30-somethings. I pointed out that they were teenagers and early 20′s. He then pointed out that I was probably the oldest person there and after thinking about it for a few seconds I replied “you know, you’re probably right”. Sort of brings you back down to earth a bit. I’m 29 next week…

As you may have noticed over the last few days, my site has been experiencing some problems. In fact, it’s been completely down and my service provider is in the state of getting it back alive again. Currently, if you can read this, then it’s partly back but any of the interactive stuff (like the comments functionality) isn’t working at the moment (that is, right this minute now that I’m typing this). Luckily I do have a backup of most of the posts and my mailing list (that was a sensible ploy) so I should be able to get everything back up and running in the next few days. Do bear with me.

In the meantime, boy have I been busy. The house buy fell through but on the same day that it did we went to see one of their neighbours who is selling their house directly (without the use of an estate agent). The house is exactly the same but with nicer decor and a nicer garden (including a water feature). My girlfriend and her mother had gone to see it before just to compare so we gave the guy a call to see if it had sold. It hadn’t and he suggested we come straight around and have a look. We did, made him an offer there and then which he accepted and we’re back on the moving trail again! He’s already got his next place sorted and a bridging loan in place so we should be able to get in about 4-6 weeks. It’s amazing what can happen in a day!

Anyway, I’m off karting this afternoon so I get to display how bad a racing driver I am (as if a demonstration were necessary). See you later…

Well, it turns out that the Highland Games consists of sporting activities such as cycling, running, caber tossing, hammer throwing, marching band marching and eating lots of unhealthy food. I had a really good time. Maybe it was the sunshine, or being in Scotland, or the sound of lots of Scottish accents or perhaps it was the constant bagpipe music in the background. Whatever it was, I’m glad I went.

We turned up at midday and I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. There were bouncy castles, lots of carnival games that you can never win (such as throwing the hoop over the prize and kicking a football through a football-sized hole), kilt-wearing pipe bands practicing all over the place and there was a grass 400m running track in the middle with an area in the centre for hammer throwing and caber-tossing (more about that later).

First up was some sprint cycle racing. I’ve always been scared by the idea of fixed-hub bikes (the ones with no brakes and you can’t stop pedalling on them – no free-wheeling) so I admire those who can do it. But those who do it on grass are even more crazy! The racing was all handicapped so that the really fast guys started at the back and the slow people just about started on the finish line. My brother kept on hoping for a crash to spark things up but it wasn’t to be.

A little later on we got to see some caber tossing. They really do use huge telegraph poles and managed to break one of them before the end of the competition. I had no idea who won but there were a couple of guys who made it look easy and a couple more who made it look about as hard as I’d probably find it (i.e. balancing the thing upwards before you even think about throwing it requires a high degree of skill). We then proceeded to watch some Scottish wrestling (left). Two men in kilts hug each other and then try to throw each other onto the ground as hard as possible. Anybody from the crowd could challenge the guys if they wanted but I thought I’d pass I’d most probably have broken a nail or an arm.

After losing some money trying to kick a football at some targets we stood watching the athletes warming up for the 200m sprint. As a runner myself I can always tell the difference between someone who does weights in the gym to look good versus someone who actually is really fast. Anyway, this bearded guy appears and straight away I said to my brother “my money’s on him, look at his thighs!”. The guy was in awesome shape and as I remarked “he reminds me of that Scottish sprinter, what was his name, Dougie?”, “Walker” my brother corrected.

Anyway, he lined up about 40m behind the front runner and was clearly the most handicapped (i.e. fastest) runner there. As the gun went I knew he was quality – he was so fast! The commentator then said over the tannoy “and watch out starting at the back is the former European 200m champion Dougie Walker, he’s the class act”. And he was. I couldn’t believe how fast he was travelling as he went down the home straight, easily overtaking everybody else. I’ve never seen an athlete like that up close before and I didn’t realise just how fast humans can run – it was amazing.

For those of you who don’t know, Dougie Walker was on fire in 1998 and was really looking like our Olympic hopeful for Sydney but tested positive for nandrolone and got a two year ban. He protested his innocence and I have no doubt in my mind that he was innocent (even the ATP managed to accidentally dope seven players ). Anyway, he wasn’t allowed to race at Sydney and has recently had surgery on both ankles. I was quite sad that such a star has had such a rough ride but it was great to see him back in excellent shape. He’s been racing quite a bit too and hopefully we’ll see him on the world stage again soon. Anyway, seeing him was the highlight of the day for me and I’d have shaken his hand if he’d not been behind the fence.

All in all it was a great day out with a nice atmosphere. And the weather held which is always a plus-point. As I drove away from the games I was struck by something else. The roads are so quiet compared to Yorkshire. They’re twisty and great fun in a fast car and yet I only came up on about 4 cars all the way back – you get so used to being stuck in traffic that it’s a joy to be on the open roads in beautiful scenery. I really got the chance to throw my BMW coupe around the corners – superb, worth every penny. I love Scotland!

When I mention to people that I’m from Scotland I tend to get the same old responses. The first is “I thought you were Canadian” which is a bit strange, but even Americans have thought this was the case. Another common one is a mention of that historically inaccurate film Braveheart and the classic line about “freedom!”. And another is a reference to caber tossing. This ancient Scottish sport involves getting the largest telegraph pole you can find (a de-branched tree in the old days), picking it up by one end and throwing it upwards and forwards with the intention of it flipping over and landing it in front of you so that the end you were holding is now the furthest one away from you. The guy who can toss the biggest one and successfully flip it over is the winner. And it brings me perfectly on to this weekend.

I’ll be back home in Scotland and on Saturday I’ll be attending the Balloch Highland Games. These competitions date back to the clan days where rivals would meet and the games would be organised to keep both men-at-arms and camp followers occupied and stop them from killing each other with large, pointy swords as was the fashion in those days. The tradition has carried on to the present and is a cultural reference point for my beautiful country of birth.

If you want more Scottish culture than you can shake a stick at, then the Highland Games are for you. As well as loads of “look how strong I am” sports like caber tossing, stone throwing and sheep throwing (I made that last one up) there’s dancing, music, bagpipes (see how I separated music and bagpipes?) and everything else that seems stereotypically Scottish. I believe I’ve been to the games before when I was a kid but to be honest about all I can remember was the car park (I was probably far too busy trying to be the centre of attention all day to notice anything more). So as far as I’m concerned this will be my first time and I’m really looking forward to it.

I’ll be bringing along my camera so I can record the whole thing in detail. Until then I’ll practice my Scottish accent some more (I’ve been living in Yorkshire for too long). Okay, basic vocabulary: auch (D’Oh!), aye (yes), ken (know), wee (small), dreich (cloudy day with spots of rain), dinnae (don’t), cundie (drain cover), dunderheed (complete idiot). Now string it all together: Auch aye, ye ken it’s a wee bit dreich the day – watch ye dinnae slip on the cundie ye dunderheed! For more information on the Scottish language, check out Scottish Words Illustrated.

Being British I’m predisposed to discussing the weather far more than seems necessary. I also live in Yorkshire which seems to rain far more than seems necessary. It may come as a surprise then that I have rather exacting standards when it comes to a nice day. For me a nice day isn’t just above a certain temperature. It’s not about having some blue sky. And it’s not simply a day that doesn’t rain. No. My definition of a nice day is for clear blue skies all day without a cloud in the sky. If I see even so much as a hint of a cloud then it’s not a “John Conners Nice Day”. And I’m pretty sure that the last time I saw a day that qualifies in Britain was about 5 years ago. That’s the problem with having high standards for British weather, you spend most of your time being disappointed.

So it came as an intense shock that yesterday – of all days – was a “John Conners Nice Day”. The temperature was around 27C, there was a light, refreshing wind and there were blue skies all day long without a single cloud in the sky. I was so surprised that I actually forgot to take a photograph to post here. Sorry, you’ll just have to take my word on how nice a day it was.

After a bit of sunbathing in the sunshine (I’ve started to rather enjoy having a tan and wouldn’t mind keeping it a bit longer – sort of like a souvenir from my holiday) I went mountain biking. Unusually high temperatures and high-exertion exercise probably don’t mix too well but it seemed like a good idea at the time. While driving to the meeting point I was ice cool in my air-conditioned car (how did I ever live without it?) thinking how much fun the biking was going to be. As soon as I parked and stepped out I felt like I’d just stepped off a plane in the middle of a desert (hit by a wall of heat). I’d filled up my Camelbak to its full 3 litre capacity in anticipation of a bit of sweating and I wasn’t disappointed.

It was surprisingly hard work but very rewarding – the views were superb and my tan is coming along nicely. I’ve lost quite a bit of my fitness due to my lazing around on holiday for two weeks so that didn’t help. In fact I’ve been suffering from post-holiday blues since I came back from Antigua, but a nice sunny day tends to take all the troubles away. It’s funny walking down the street in Skipton on a sunny day. Everybody’s smiling and there just seems to be a better mood around the place. Cut to a typical cloudy day and everybody seems to be walking around with their own personal rain cloud overhead. Or maybe it’s just me.

Anyway, this is probably all the summer we’re going to get so I better make the most of it. Anyone for tennis?

I can’t believe it. I just can’t. I’ve just spent two weeks having the best holiday I’ve ever had. And here I am back at work and back in Yorkshire. It’s the worst thing about holidays. You spend ages looking forward to them and in the blink of an eye they’ve come and gone.

Well, it turns out that we were staying at a place in Antigua heavily geared up for sailing. This was just perfect because I can’t stand sailing and I was really looking to relax. Fortunately there was no pressure to do any sailing and I managed to do precisely none. The apartment was very nice (i.e. it had the two essential items of a TV and air conditioning as well as a bonus of a balcony) and the food was excellent. We were staying on a half-board basis which meant getting either an inclusive lunch or evening meal each day and that meant we didn’t feel roped into being there all the time.

I spent most of week one sunbathing and snorkelling. I wanted to rest my body and that’s exactly what I did. The snorkelling (which I’d never done before) was fantastic and it was like being in a giant aquarium (oddly enough) with hundreds of fish of all shapes, sizes and colours. I loved it. I spent hours floating around looking at things. While sunbathing I would generally read and watch the Pelicans fishing right alongside. The temperature hovered around 34C but there was always a strong wind that helped to keep the temperature just right (otherwise I might have boiled). The highlight of the first week was walking a mile or so along the road to a deserted beach (pictured above) which we had entirely to ourselves. Just what the doctor ordered.

The second week was much more action-packed. On Monday we hired a car along with another very nice couple we met and drove around the island. There are no road signs at all which made navigating extremely entertaining although we did pretty well (apart from a detour to the army base, from their laughter we could tell it happened a lot). We went to a few beautiful beaches and also the superb viewpoint Shirley Heights (below, you may recognise it from the Duran Duran
video Rio).

One of the beaches (at Half Moon Bay) was the place we got to try body surfing. For this you get a boogie board (like a large kickboard from a swimming pool), you get out into the water and attempt to ride waves back to the beach. It was such a laugh. When you catch a wave it’s magic and the speed is electric but when you don’t they do their best to flip you around and drown you! I spent a bit of time cartwheeling around underwater while waves bigger than me played the “let’s kill John” game. I loved it and will really try and get around to learning to surf properly one of these days.

On the Wednesday we took a helicopter ride to Montserrat. For those of you who don’t know, this a volcanic island near Antigua that has been active since 1995. A great deal of the island had to be abandoned in 1997 when much of it was destroyed by pyroclastic flows. It’s not one of those lava-spewing volcanoes, instead it blasts out hot, dry rock fragments and hot gases at fantastic speeds that destroy everything in their path. Not only was the helicopter trip great fun (it’s amazing what those things can do) but it was very sobering to see the destruction that a volcano can do to ordinary people (see right).

Anyway, I’ve got loads of photos that I’ll be putting on my walls, lots of shells (including some pretty large, spiky ones) that will go in the bathroom, we bought an oil painting that we actually got to watch being painted (will post a photo once we get it framed), a dark tan (which will fade, I know) and the memories to last a lifetime. I really didn’t want to come back, in fact I’d almost forgotten what my life in the UK was like. I do feel completely relaxed though and the holiday was even better than I imagined it would be (despite the fact that I couldn’t find a hammock to lie on).

All the locals we met were very friendly and I’d definitely recommend Antigua as a holiday destination to anybody wanting some sunshine and a different culture (it’s amazing how obsessed they seemed to be with religion and road safety – there were about a million churches and road signs encouraging people to wear their seat belts). Anyway, when my jet lag wears off I’ll try and remember more of the things we got up to in the beautiful Caribbean – if they’re interesting enough.