Category Archives: fc trois rivières

Saturday 10th March 2018 – BRAIN OF BRITAIN STRIKES AGAIN!

Halfway down the stairs on my way out for this evening’s football when I suddenly realised that I had forgotten my camera. So I had to nip back to fetch it.

I was halfway down the steps into town when I realised that I had forgotten to go to Caliburn to pick up my mug to go with the coffee that I had made in the flask, and I had to work my evil wiles on the girl in the bakery where there is a coffee machine. She would only give me some plastic beakers, not the insulated ones. But then I suppose, I was lucky that I had remembered the thermos flask.

Halfway up the steep hill, stopping to divest myself of my jacket because it was quite a warm evening, I mused that the camera wasn’t all that important because I could use the camera on the telephone to take the photos that I wanted.

And it was at this point that I realised that I had forgotten the phone too.

cité des sports granville manche normandy franceTo rub it in, there was a handball match taking place at the Sports Centre tonight and the cafeteria was open, so I didn’t need the flask (or the beakers) either.

But then it’s always like that with me, as regular readers of this rubbish will realise.

But it was a beautiful night for football – fairly warm, not much wind and for once, it wasn’t raining. And doesn’t that make a change from these last few days?

football cite des sports fc trois rivierss us granville manche normandy franceTonight’s opponents were FC Trois Rivieres – not from Québec but from Canisy in the outskirts of St Lô.

And if ever there were two points thrown needlessly away by a team in need of a victory it was tonight, that’s for sure.

I reckon that Granville had about 75% of the possession and they were one goal up early on in the game. It took Trois Rivieères 31 minutes (I timed it) to get into the Granville penalty area.

And when they did, they scored a goal out of nothing. One of those shots that hits a defender’s boot and could go anywhere. This particular one looped up and over the keeper’s head and although he got both hands to the ball it spun out if his grasp and into the net.

It didn’t take long for Granville to restore their lead but then we had another calamity in the Granville defence. A back-pass under pressure to the keeper who decided to pass it out to another defender instead of clearing his lines upfield or out of play for a throw-in.

Of course, the inevitable happened and the ball out was intercepted by an attacker who slotted it into the empty net.

After that, Granville ran out of steam and couldn’t make their possession count for anything.

Highlight of the match had to the the Trois Rivières manager who, having loudly cried for a yellow card to be given to the Granville n°7 a short while earlier, becoming furiously upset when the Granville manager cried for a yellow card to be given to a Trois Rivières player. You can’t make up a story like that, can you?

We had yet another Sleep of the Dead last night, and I spent much of it in a cosy little menage à deux with TOTGA. She didn’t get away last night, not ‘arf she didn’t. Unfortunately it never reached the stage that made a celebrity out of the legendary inmate of a monastery in Bohemia (mind you, nothing can do that these days) but it was certainly a night with a difference.
And later on, I was in the Houses of Parliament interrogating the Chancellor of the Exchequer, leading him a nice merry dance down a mazy little path until he has committed himself unequivocally, and then announcing that there was a mistake in his figures, he was a billion Pounds short in his calculations, and what was he going to do now – to which, having committed himself unequivocally to his position, he had no answer.

After breakfast and a shower, and a machine-load of washing, I set out for the shops. We did the usual round of LIDL, NOZ and LeClerc and I bought nothing of any excitement except in LeClerc.

Several of you will recall that I keep a bright yellow rain jacket with removable fleece lining in Caliburn. But when I went to live in Leuven it made a dramatic reappearance on the streets seeing as I hadn’t anticipated being there in the winter and so didn’t have a winer jacket.

But it’s old, dirty and as much as I might try, it won’t come up clean at all. It’s OK for being round and about doing things but not really for being anywhere important.

And in LeClerc they had a much more respectable bright yellow rain jacket. No fleece lining but there was a size XL so I can wear an ordinary fleece underneath. It was expensive for what it was, but it’ll be better for travelling about in the Spring and Summer.

Back here I had a little … errr … relax before lunch and then this afternoon with fiddling about with the new hi-fi that I bought the other week (and with which I’m even more impressed than with my galvanised steel dustbin) I could pick up the live football commentary on the BBC – although they seemed to be more interested in what was happening underneath the Directors’ Box at the Olympic Stadium than on the football pitch at St James’s Park.

In a change from the usual Saturday procedures, I had the bass guitar out too. I’ve had Liege And Lief – one of the best albums ever recorded, going round n an endless loop for the last few days, and suddenly the bass line to Crazy Man Michael, one of the best songs ever written, leapt into the front of my mind.

And so I sat down for half an hour and picked it out. And chapeau to Ashley Hutchings because it’s not easy.

Back home from the football through the deserted streets of Granville and 114% of my daily activity, I had the last of my tinned English curries. Tinned food for the next I don’t-Know-How-Long will have to be something different, like the champignons à la Grècque or the spicy beans that I can pick up in Belgium.

And here’s a thing.

A told you about how nice the weather had been today. Today is the first day in 2018 where I’ve not had the heat on in the apartment.