This week I have won two things. I say 'I' but both of them were part of team efforts and if I am honest, I don't think my presence was needed for one of them definitely and probably both. I can safely say that neither will change me as a person. Especially as neither had any financial reward - or any kind of reward - you could mention. And neither was the result of having done anything particularly well.
The first triumph of the week came at a battle of the bands we played at the Walkabout bar in town, the triumph being that we won. It was an odd venue for bands as both times we played there (there was one round before the final) there was football on before it turned into what I only describe as a cheap but amusing hellhole that attracted rabble and scum. This particular night, Liverpool were playing Birmingham and beating them hard. Steve Bruce had his metaphorical pants pulled down (metaphorically) by Liverpool. It was hard to feel sorry for him though, its his own fault for buying a combination of fading stars (who were not the best parts of the good teams they were from), crap players and persisting in playing his son who is just not very good. In many ways (mainly metaphorical), he pulled his own pants down or just couldn't keep them up. I will try and work this analogy into common language, it reminds me of when Mick McCarthy being interviewed about a game and he kept on saying that his team had been 'spanked' but unlike me did not clarify that it was metaphorical and from thence the humour arose. More managers should talk like Mick McCarthy.
Anyway, like Liverpool we won (no metaphorical or real pants around ankles), our prize was a sheet of paper telling us that we'd booked a place into the next round in sunny Doncaster, hometown of Jeremy Clarkson and another Walkabout bar and probably more rabble. I am sure it will be just as exciting as Plinth's Leeds adventure. We didn't play particularly well but apparently not playing well and winning is a sign of champions. Hmm.
Cruising on the battle of the bands triumph I returned to work the next day to find that my department had been nominated for the Council's annual awards. I will be honest and say that I was somewhat surprised and it would be fair to say that if the department was the England squad, I would be Owen Hargreaves, bench-warmer extraordinaire. Thats not to diss Owen Hargreaves. I think he is good, and I wouldn't want anyone else warming the bench but he's not 1st team material and if he was then that would mean settling for an inferior bench warmer. My supervisor was most displeased at having to attend the ceremony which made the victory sweeter and certainly funnier.
I won't say the victories were undeserved but perhaps the level of competition was not what it could have been. What a week.
