You may have heard from Noz about the trouble following the WHV Skins. I am duty bound to report this, but as the accused, I will do my best to be even handed.
After Mike’s spawny victory in the skins, he retired to the Vaults for a few jars. I returned to the bosom of my young family, anticipating an evening relaxing at home. However, Mrs Donk had bumped into Mrs Bacon in Touchwood earlier in the day and they’d determined that a visit to Bacon Towers was in order for the evening. Mike had just lost his dad and is very fond of playing with Little Donk, plus is such a useless bloke that his wife wanted me to take some “Before” shots of their house as they begin their Grand Designs remodel. Plus, like, we’re friends and stuff.
So, at around 7pm, we arrive at Bacon’s. Mrs Bacon tells me that Mike is at the boozer, but has said he’d be home soon for his dinner. We then descend into farce – with several calls to Mrs B from the boys at the vaults, being lead by Noz, in his cups. The Captain and Millers were also present. They demanded that I join them to toast Mike’s great victory at the skins. Now, I witnessed this greatness – his four skins (fnar) came from a peach of an iron shot in the driving rain that took him several attempts to get away as he gayed it up in the wind and rain. The next two skins were long drive ones – the first by about 4 feet from me and Milko, and the last was a shinned drive that he wouldn’t have noted without me pointing it out to him once we got to the green. Not the fabulous roll to home from the Presidents, just a bit lucky for once – good for him, but not really based on great golf! So I decided to spend time with the boy, the ladies and taking pictures of Mike’s house, as a favour, before it got dark.
Finally, Mike arrived home and presented me with two bits of paper, no doubt demanded from the barkeep by Little Prince Noz. Emboldened by beer, comfortable in familiar surroundings and egged on by his cronies. Noz failed to register that he was entering the 12th hour of his pregnant wife’s birthday away from her. This was not a notified WHV Job, just an ad hoc beer or two.
I’ve just noticed that this note is signed by Noz, Cap’n and Mike! Also by Millers, Conceptman – who doesn’t know what he’s doing at the best of times.
Now when I then drove round to pick up the chinese, we popped into the vaults to find Noz, Millers and Pete sat there. Relatively merry, slightly abusive in their greeting for me, but when prompted, Noz responded that he was about to go get his own chinese for when his wife picked him up. Millers looked to becoming more and more aware that continuing to drink and not be at home with around 12 hours until he went on holiday was not the greatest idea, but it’s Millers. And Pete was, well, Pete. After the note, I expected to be hoisted by own petard, not the rather sheepish reception that actually occurred. Object lesson here in confronting ‘bullies’, and in locking this stuff away for next season when Noz will join me and Aust and the TD as new dads who find spending time with their kids more diverting than the Vaults – hopefully so for his daughter’s sake.
We’re out for dinner with the Spittles and Bacons tonight – posh Michelin star stuff in Edgbaston to commemorate my recent milestone birthday. I’m bound to get Noz-buse, again – witness the Jug weekend last year where I was accused of nursing a handicap on Friday by blobbing two holes on the toughest course we’ve ever played, only to see him do the same and much much worse on Sunday. I suspect he might have jumped the gun again, and pretty soon, I’ll be in a position to point out where he puts his family before a beer.
Will Noz ever stop calling people out for perceived slights? He’s not on the board any more, he’s not winning anything and pretty soon he’ll have to give the green jacket and the coveted OoM Three Wood to the next incumbent, he’ll join the rest of us ‘ordinary’ members of the WHV where there is no power or elevated status!