Breaking news from the 2009 WHV AGM – Noz is indeed OUT.
(click on any pic to get the fancy big picture slideshow thingy, if your browser isn’t pants)
- The New Players Rep holding his winnings
Ron had an up and down night, from wandering into a pub full of Villa fans watching them break a 25 year hoodoo at Old Trafford whilst wearing his Blues hat and seeking representation on a We Hate Villa board.
TD sets out his stall early
Ron Unveiling his campaign materials
Evidence of a proper thought out campaign
Yes We Can (and yes we did)
He was busy chatting up some bloke from another society, offering him out for a full Ryder Cup style event, instead of paying attention to the briefing from Chalky Pete on an incredibly complicated game of pub darts.
However, he ended up winning the WHV red after displaying steady darting. Full details will be in his match report – should make for interesting reading as I’m not convinced he knew what he was doing for most of it.
During the event, he did reveal the master plan of marketing, with a poster, a T Shirt and flyers promoting his Noz Out, Vote Ron message.
The campaign was successful, as the AGM minutes will show. It remains to be seen how much the Pres will report on Ron’s instant decision to make Player’s Rep into a role devoted to diluting any of the quirks that make the WHV unique, particularly R4 and the handicapping system.
The debate on handicaps was still raging in full patronising (“I’m a proper golfer, I’m a member of a proper club, what makes you lot better than the PGA?!”) mode as I left the cab, a good two hours after it started. This was after a near wobbler of Keegan-esque proportions as our Proper Golfer decided to resign, only to flip-flop instantly.
Props to Mike for baiting Ron throughout the AGM – it takes a brave man to spot an egomaniac in the first strokes of power mania and the grips of too much Guinness and Whiskey, and then to poke him with a stick repeatedly. “You’re a fecking idiot Mike, you know NOTHING” – repeat ad nauseum.
Props to Ron for following through and being exactly as selfish and overbearing as Rob and I suspected he might be when hatching the concept of Noz Out whilst sat waiting on the tee for more society duffers to get out of the way on the Nicklaus Course. I believe it was the shortish par 5 that Rob played only with an 8 iron to get a par simply because he could.
Props to the Pres for introducing us all to a great boozer and attempting to organise WHVers too close to their own beds for them to ever consider behaving as imagined. He remained affable all night as his best laid plans were ripped apart by early defections by Ads, Aust and others, and no shows from the usuals. Might have had something to do with recovery from an absolute skinful on Friday. Certainly over ordered on the grub front though, as we gave a good slice of society funded snap to weirdos and pensioners throughout the evening.
Props to the Prof for spending valuable hotel pron watching time drafting an extremely complicated and comprehensive set of rules for WHV Dart Golf, attempting to organise WHVers who weren’t really interested from the moment they saw how complicated it was. Also for ending up covered in more chalk than one would have thought possible for administering a dart board for a couple of hours. Hopefully the Intellectual Property for the rules has been secured, as several copies of the rules and shotsaver were left in the Lord Clifden as we left – it might surprise those of us who took part to see this popping up on Challenge TV, but there’s worse stuff on there already.
Chalky Pete explains it, again
WHV Dart Golf Event Crowd Goes Wild
Props to Noz for only letting the mask of disappointment slip a couple of times after losing his cherished seat at the top table. Only when under high pressure from Ron’s extreme baiting and complaining did he mutter… “see, told you so, he’s only interested in Ron”.
Props to the TD for going old school, despite assuring everyone he was on a quiet job and booked in for the 1am feed. Standing at the end of a bar with a collection of rapt and impressed bar staff, with 400 lads in his pocket, he was cock of the walk. The dormant Mr Hyde of the society was further roused by a couple of rounds of single ‘Jamo’s’ ordered by Ron, and then the discovery that the jukebox could be isolated for the front snug which we were occupying. Off he went to put on the greatest Sis tune ever, not that anyone else noticed. Didn’t stop him bellowing ‘Helluva Boy’ to the pub at large, or trying to crack on to the two pensioners who looked confused why their quiet Saturday night drinking had been invaded by nice loud young men offering to stand them a few rounds.
Gibbon Gun Show
It didn’t take too many Stereophonics tunes chosen by Ron (TD – Dakota is their best ever tune), or Brown marching tunes before the testosterone was in full effect. Attempting to hold an AGM whilst the Gibbon was in the house was not going to go too well – Baxter’s choice of ‘rubbish’ 80’s standard was compounded by the Web Donkey discovering the Pavlovian trigger in the TD’s medulla oblongata – “Sexy MF” by Prince.
This drove the TD to shirt stripping rage – intending to impress the bar staff with a gun show. The society was saved from further rampaging scandal by a sudden decision to ditch the AGM and take a sleepy Spike home. Questions remain about the financial acuity displayed – some money was abandoned amidst curry plates, and Tab 101 was short – you can almost smell the port…
The Pres will produce his own report of the AGM. Ron will do the same for the Sporting Event. Hopefully they will cover how, for about 20 minutes, to about 10 blokes and one attractive young girl, we were the great Curry Philanthropists of 2009 as we tried to save the feelings of the little old dear who had slaved away preparing 16 curries for 6 men to eat. “You lot can come every week” said a local, several times, thinking he was being funny and that we’d just not heard him.
The pre-event buffet - enough to put us all down for the evening. Worst sausage rolls ever.
TD before meltdown
Ron in the Red
6 men left standing to polish off the society kitty for 2009
The remains of 16 curries
Having gorged himself on the buffet, I witnessed Greggers purchasing chicken kebab meat and chips for the journey home. He paid for this rather than stealing it from an unsuspecting chip shop customer, which was very noble. Approximately 20 minutes later, he pushed open the taxi door, and then threw it all up. He then sat on the taxi floor for a while, before repeating the exercise. Then, having already pre-paid the taxi driver £40, he insisted on walking home from Solihull. A jolly good evening…