Continuing our recent spate of Club non-diving-but-a-lot-of-drinking weekends, an intrepid lot set off from the four corners of West Yorkshire to gather in the big smoke and wage war against one another with balls and skittles. After beers one, two, three and four in Wither-away-spoons, that well known quality hostelry in the train station, we managed to arrive vaguely on time(ish) at the bowling alley.
Two lanes were filled with slightly wobbly bowlers, whilst latecomers to the competition (you know who you are Keith and Amanda) had to just sit and cheer from the sidelines. Some folk got strikes which basically means they get less goes which is a bit rubbish, whilst others were too skittle-conscious to even knock any down because that’s a shocking act of aggression to skittles everywhere if you think about it. Somebody won on each lane, possibly Tim on both lanes in fact, and beers five, six and maybe even seven were consumed.
We then wobbled off to arrive nowhere near on time at the buffet place where people ate lots of fairly repulsive food and drank some fairly flat ale. Things got quite fuzzy by this stage, but I think most people had a good time….well most except one. Hopefully everyone got home safe, but as no one has been seen or heard of since, its difficult to tell.
Thanks to me (Johnny) as usual for organizing it all….you’re welcome.