Marco Jacksonovic

Crazy What You Could've Had
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2004-03-09 22:34:17 (UTC)

Canterbury Day One.

This was Thursday, last Thursday, but it already feels a
long long time ago. Lots happened. Time flies, but looking
back, it only flies from one thing to another.

Anyway, I got on my train at Norwich with the Social History
of English Cricket on the go, and was enjoying a good old
depletion of Yorkshire as their anti-foreigner policy got
them into racial trouble (Point not realised - players could
be of any race or faith, but HAD to be born in Yorkshire. I
know people whose parents rushed to Yorkshire so they would
qualify....fact).

Then the fella read out his announcement. "This train will
be stopping at Ipswich, Colchester and London Liverpool
St.". Shit, I thought, there's no Inglestone there. (I was
still uncertain of its name). So I got off, at Ipswich, the
future of English Cricket still uncertain, though the West
Indies seemed to be taking a stranglehold and Robin Smith
was unpopular.

The conversation went a little bit like this with the woman
in the office. "Could you tell me the next train to
Ingatestone?" "Direct?" (Think - no, tell that chappie
there, and he'll mime it to me, of course fucking direct! Do
I want a rebus?) "Yes...if I can" "About six o'clock, but
that's cos none of our trains go there" "Fackin' 'eww"
(Cockney....no, I don't know why I chose that voice) "But we
go through Chelmsford and that's only about twenty minutes.
You have to change" "OK" "Next train, get off at Chelmsford,
and then one stop on" Thanks. So that's what I did.

However, it wasn't quite as easy as that. As I was waiting
(20 minutes itself) at Chelmsford, I needed to check that
Ryan, my lift from there, was on course....and couldn't get
out. I take my hands off to the staff of both Chelmsford and
its rail company. They were quick, kind and generous, and
deeply deeply wonderful allowing me to get onto the platform
and into my carriage in time to see Darren Gough,
ex-Yorkshire bowler extraordinaire, take a seat at the other
end of the train....I was, fortuitously, wearing my
Yorkshire Legends tie, and was safe in the knowledge that
Mr. Gough's name featured, though I arranged it to be less
prominent than that of people I cared for a jot, and who
hadn't behaved like a twat and left the county under a cloud
having fucked them royally for two years and then refused to
play because selectors for England weren't there - Sachin
Tendulkar, Lord Hawke, Michael Vaughan (the current England
captain) Matthew Hoggard (currently, very currently,
England's form bowler - a true Gough replacement, ish) and I
pointed that out to him. Perplexion, and his....well, I
think he just ignored me, really....but I told him never the
less, pointing to his name on the tie.

I met Ryan at the next stop, and we got to go over the
Dartford Bridge, not see The Valley, pass a town called
Bean, one called Grain, and arrive to find Didier outside a
building called The Mandela Building or some such. It was
good, and we'd arrived. It was 4 o'clock.

WILT? The Libertines - Time For Heroes "Cherish you my love"
off of that CD Didi.....


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