The day dawned sunny and bright. I simply had to go, mainly because all the best excuses had been taken :-

- had heart attack, resulting in triple bypass surgery last night
- unexpectedly sent to outer Mongolia to do some consultancy for 9 months starting today
- impromptu trip to Boston to visit Cheers bar
- little Johnny's 12th birthday party + cricket match against Sussex second XI
- 14th Wedding Anniversary and annual blow-job imminent [thanks for the cards, lads]
- had anti-alcohol tablets inserted into stomach lining that make it impossible, 'oh go on then, a pint please' to sup ale

Arrived at Hook Norton around 13.45 - God it takes a little longer than you'd think to get up here. Simply must remember that next year. Maybe it's because I'm driving Caroline's underpowered Red Polo 1.4CL instead of my underpowered Rover 414i. Terrible journey. Caroline left me with no petrol and I couldn't fathom how to fast-forward the tape over rubbish tracks.

Anyway, rolled down the famous hill to see two of last years attendees (Pedz and Priest-meister) installed. Shurely shome mishtake. No - look more closely. The GHS Bi-Centennial Hurl had indeed convened enough members to merit two benches to be placed in an adjacent manner. Fantastic start.

New faces, Ben (WhipperSnapper) who possesses a fair head of hair for a Morrell, Paul Selby (who's from Stockport, not Selby), Mez (I got someone else to fly to Boston), Gibbo (2nd meeting in 2 weeks), the effervescent and effusive Gerard ('West aaaammmm') Darcy, Mike ('I left the Palace at home, you mucky bastards') Keano Keenan and a studious looking lecturer who I thought was on the wrong table but did sport very familiar Lennon spectacles, Mr Mike Wheeldon.

T-shirts dished out. Excellent quality and excellent value for 10 quid. Very pleased with my choice of Black XXL. Actually covered my gut which was a bonus. The odd socks didn't show in Red. Pale Blue OK but like a cheap Ciddy shirt.

Rich pontificated over the quandry of possibly being offered an interview a British American Tobacco. Opinions firmly divided.

Anyway, enough of the perfunctory greetings - to business. Stumped up 10 quid for the complimentary Pint glass and 10 tokens to be told it was 5 quid for the glass and 10 quid for the tokens. Shame. Started with a lowly rated pint and then chalked off the strongest ales, they had going.

Avoided the Lees despite Mez's recommendation. Looked like he had inadvertently picked up a stray pint glass from last year from the hedgerow, given it to a member of staff who went behind a barrel, urinated in it, added some slops, passed it back and said 'There you go, Sir. Pint of Lees. A big favourite every year.'

Good conversation, good company, fine ale, all refreshingly free of female input ('Janet called Johnny a pooh-head in the playground - what do you think about that ?'). Venue seemed busier than last year and yet oddly queues for ale less so. Bizarre. Maybe the 5 quid premium was worth it, after all.

Lack of any totty to ogle at from afar. Maybe we should get Bill Inglis back next year and swap him for Mez.

16.00 and we enter the late afternoon twilight zone. Superb 4-3-2-1 pyramid is formed - just the right number. Solid as a rock too and I was at the base. Tried to get a little ambitious and go for a 5-4-3-2-1 but failed to cajole two little boys to clamber up to the top level. Mind you, I'm not sure I'd want to clamber over Pedz's, Darcy's and my very own backside for a half-hearted round of applause and embarassed laughter.

Some Hurlers had broken protocol and gone for fish'n'chips way too early but were now going to play the penalty as we headed for the rec ground for 5-a-side footy. Got two lads to help out (Skinny and Plaster Cast) - God they were shit. Fine goal keeping from Gibbo and honours ended, well, even-ish. Positive that last goal was offside though.

Some ales were running out and the initial tokens and 4 top-ups were exhausted so we adjourned to the Pear Tree and awaited the totty to approach. Experienced a personal crisis of confidence around 19.30 that was cured by having a walk outside or, maybe, it was just my round. Can't quite recall.

Thankfully, Mrs Buggins, although present, kept her massive heaving breasts and interminable conversation to herself this year. Was this a consequence of William Inglis not putting an appearance in ?

Pub ran out of ale (again) and closed to new entrants but we were fine. Don't remember Pedz having to resort to mild this year.

Bedded down in Old Man's tent with Pedz and Paul. Very hard floor and we all rolled to the bottom of the slope. God - I wish Pete had remembered his spirit level.

Drove home with Professor Wheeldon who kept me awake. Staggered and shocked to spot Darcy and Gibbo helping a damsel in distress with two young children. Christ - do those Essex boys never stop trying to pull !

Imagine that, you're driving down the empty M40 on a quiet, sunny Sunday morning. You get a puncture, lose control, smash into the central barrier and come to a halt, 90' across the carriage way, waiting and waiting for following cars to smash into you. You have had a narrow escape with death and you nearly no longer had to worry about how to fill in the long 6 week summer holiday with the kids as they ascend into heaven. All three of you will certainly be featured on the next edition of 'When reconditioned Steel Radials go wrong at 80 MPH'.

Then two kindly, Good Samaritans clad in GoatHurling 'Festival of Fine Ales' T-shirts (one Red, one a very tight fitting Blue with a moustache - hmm is that one gay ?) escort you all safely to the hard-shoulder. Strange, how they don't call the police but the driver is 3 times over the limit. You're safe, you've had a narrow brush with death. You're in shock, you're trembling.

And now you got have got the gay one asking you whether you think Dr David Kelly was murdered by MI5, whether that golfer should indeed have been disqualified or whether Joe Cole will start the season for West Ham - and all in one long sentence in 5 seconds flat.

Got home. Kids still away camping. Slumped in front of the Golf all afternoon. Hoovered lawn and mowed the lounge.

Until next year, 'MORE BEER !'

I don't understand - have I logged on to an incorrect Blog - there seemt to be no valid description of the weekend from any literary adherents. Or maybe that was it - nothing happened. I certainly don't remember anything.

stug, I will be covering this in my 15.30 lecture on blog-hurling over 3g for the 23rd century, this is right after my 12.30 presentation of a mile by mile account of my marathon effort (including training).

I think you can only leave it for a day on the other (stockport) side. there are plenty of places to put it in edgeley but i couldn't guarantee its safety.

Good News Bad News Time

Good news (for the northern lads) is that the car is now booked. so the proposal is to meet at (or around) Stockport Station (Edgeley approach) at 1pm on Friday. If anyone has any problem with this arrangement then speak now or forever hold your peace.

Bad news is that levermu is an unconfirmed non-starter.

Steve

I knew the big G wouldn't let us down.

What a hurling jamboree this is turning into.

Andy, I think you may have write a new account for 2003 and could you have it done a bit sooner this year, Monday morning doesn't cut the mustard with me, young man, I expect it on this site by teatime Sunday.

What's everyone wearing?

Ha Ha Ha. Mr P will have his merry little japes at my expense. Of course I meant I was worried that the festivities on the Fri nite would negate the amount of beer available for consumption on the Sat, which of course is still a great worry to my prodigious appetite for ale, as I doubted my ability to restrict my consumption to a manageable amount, unlike Mr P, who seems to be preparing the way for his usual nite-time slumbers, albeit with some nubile female fawning over his prostrate body.

And more power to Timbo - a magnificent effort to attend, unlike some of our one-time celebrated colleagues. However, perhaps next year, we shouldn't mention the awesome quantity of ale expected to be consumed, and no doubt these feeble and puerile excuses will be no more. It'll be great to see Levermu there..

Rejoice!!!

Pedz will be pleased, he was secretly worried that as you were only going to be there for the friday you might want to consume your whole weekends worth of beer in the one evening. He likes to take it easy on the first night (even easier than the second if that is possible) and he was worried he might not be up to the festival ale on Saturday.

Now if I can just get Levermu to answer his phone........

I hope no one does top Tim's excuse.

hello.... anybody there?

The great day is approaching, and I'm sure you would all like to be dressed up to the nines to celebrate this auspicious occasion...

As is usual for these events, all attendees will receive a commemorative T-shirt commemorating the T-shirt.

The shirt will enhance your reputation, provide for the attraction of nubile females, and will keep you warm during those long winter nites. Note this is a once-only offer, and includes a newly-commissioned design , kindly undertaken by the design department of IT Facilitas.

All I need to know is...
are you coming
if you are, you may be eligible for a free T-shirt donated by the GHS. Send £10 to enter the draw. All entries who attend the bicentenary event will receive a free T-shirt. Simply state (by return) size and colour required, letting me know you have sent the cheque/it won't get lost in the post/it won't get spent on sundries like washing powder or private lard supply
Those who don't reply by end of this week I shall have to assume do not wish to be recognised as a true and trusted member, upholding the lofty ideals of our glorious icon

MORE BEER!

Actually Pete I didn't make it to the punchline as the 'joke' was so long and windy.

Indeed greetings to all from sunny limburg (it's in germany) or should I say guten tag? No I bloody shouldn't.

Welcome to stug. Travel arrangements are that you all congregate at a suitable pick up point (knutsford services) and I pick you up and take you. As I am driving I get all my beer bought for me for the whole weekend and you lot pay for the petrol.

We need to leave lunchtime Friday so book the afternoon off work (could be tricky for you Ben as I am off that day:-)

Any questions?

Thought I'd better reply to Mr P's rant about crap jokes. I found the enclosed joke rather amusing, and I don't see why Mr. P should take such a high-handed...Oh wait a minute, I think I may have an inkling now...I see the ending of the joke could possibly be construed...no surely you didn't think...I suppose if you were at all covert about the size of your...don't think this was getting at your todger Stevey, we all know the size of that (snigger snigger)...it's pretty amazing that the name in the joke was rather similar to yours - I really should have noticed that before posting. Sorry and all that

Hope your Lim is Burging ok...

Nice post Lightweight!

What's that noise? Oh yes tumbleweed blowing through the blog as the church bell gently chimes its demise.....

Any chance of a roll-call for the weekend for catering purposes?


Friday night
Confirmed - Pedz, steve, whipper-snapper, keeno, selby, mez
????? - Cowls, Lightweight, Gibbo, Tim, Thompson, Wheeldon, Levermu
Definately not - Inglis

Saturday
Confirmed - Pedz, steve, whipper-snapper, keeno, selby
Assumed - Cowls, Gibbo
????? - Tim, Thompson, Wheeldon, Levermu
Definately not - Inglis, Mez

Don't forget to mention any dietary requirements (lard, extra lard etc.) and t-shirt sizes.

House Rules.

1. No crap jokes.
2. No bears.
3. No retractable beards.

Pete you just broke rule 1, any more and I will have to censor your posts.
Ah yes but then it would only be me and Andy, unless Gibbo has worked it out yet.

Are you there Gibbo?

Three Leprechauns, Mick, Eugene and Pat, are sitting in the pub getting
> quietly pissed when Mick shouts out, "Jaysus, I'm bored wid bein'a feckin'
> nobody. I'm tinkin I'll take meself down to de Guinness Book of Records
> office and get meself entered in de book" "what de hell are ye talkin'
> about, ye eejit. You've dun nuttin' to get in de book for" says Eugene.
> "Well, it's me hands, Eugene" replies Mick waving them around, "I tink dey
> are de smallest in de world and I'm going to get meself entered into de
> book and I'll be world famous."
>
>
>
> Both Eugene and Pat agree that they are quite small and they all carry on
> drinking quite heartily. A little while later Pat pipes up "Ya know Mick,
> if ye can get into de Guinness Book of Records for yer small hands, so can
> I." The other two smirk at each other and Mick says "how can ye have de
> smallest hands in the world if I've got dem, ya bloody fool?" Pat replies
> "it's not me hands, Mick it's me feet", and he takes off his boots to show
> them. "I tink datdey are de smallest feet in de world and I'm gonna get
> meself entered into de Guinness Book of Records too." The other two agree
> that they are quite small and with that they all go back to their
> drinking.
>
>
>
> Some time later Eugenechimes in, "well, if youse two can get into de
> Guinness Book of Records, I can too. "The others fall about laughing.
> "What
> de feck have you got dats so feckin' interesting?" cries Mick. "It's me
> dick, Mick " he says and pulls down his breeches to show them. They both
> howl with laughter as Eugenepulls out his little willy. "Jaysus, ye've got
> the best chance of us all, Eugene", says Pat "dat's de smallest feckin'
> dick I ever saw" and with that they all go back to their drinking.
>
>
>
> Later on full of the gills, they are heading home when out of the corner
> of
> his eye Mick spots the Guinness Book of records office further down the
> street. "Jaysus", he says "I'm gonna go into dat office and I'm gonna get
> me hands measured" and off he staggers.
>
>
>
> Ten minutes later he comes out with a big smile on his face waving his
> hands in the air. "I did it, I did it" he says "I'm in de Guinness Book of
> Records for de smallest hands in de world, nobodies got smaller hands dan
> me" and with that he pushes Pat forward. "Go on ye eejit. See if ye have
> de
> smallest feet in de world. Go on" "Feck it. I will" says Pat and off he
> staggers. Ten minutes later he comes out with a big smile on his face,
> kicking his feet in the air. "Jaysus, I'm famous." he says. "I've got de
> smallest feet in de world, I'm famous, I'm famous" he yells. With that
> Eugenestaggers to the office door. "I'm gonna get me dick measured" he
> says, "I won't be long" The other two are waiting anxiously for Eugeneto
> return, but time slips by. Ten minutes turns into twenty and twenty into
> thirty. Still no sign of Eugene. One hour later the office door swings
> open
> and Eugeneslouches looking disconsolate. "Whats wrong?" asks Pat, to which
> Eugene replies
> "who the feckin hell is Steve Priest ?"

Leave my arse alone will you - well not you Steve obviously - I know how you love to rub the big L in, and thinking about it now, it's not an unpleasant feeling...

Andy, I assume you refer here to that most magical of cooking agents and not Pete's arse?
Who's turn is it to provide to big L this year?

Pete. One word - LARD.

What's going on here? Why can't people blog in Bold 36 point so unfortunates like myself with a mere laser-like viewing ability to distinguish tall buildings at a distance of over 46 metres can participiate much more easily?
You yoofs of today don't show no respect for your elders and betters any more, I despair of what the world's coming to, I really do.

And speaking of elders and betters, Priesty and myself had a practice hurl 1 and a half weeks ago. I have now fully recovered, thus placing my hurling ability once more on the pedestal it should be on. I should also mention the longevity of the evening, for some of us at least, as Mr Priest was found wanting at the end of the evening, and left early, leaving my good self to continue the traditions long held as icons of respectability.

And why did they introduce those danged fiddly bits of currency. I for one have long since decided they are not worth fiddling about with.

How many bloggers have actually joined this? It seems to me (though my faculties may well be failing me) as if only one or two hurlers still exist. Still, I expect come the day, we'll once again be overcome with emotion as the hordes appear and overwhelm the availability of alcohol...

Trust grandad pete to struggle getting into the blogging, I suspect he now finds new (fangled) five p pieces a bit fiddly and he can't hear a word these popular beat combos are singing.

A scene from the forthcoming Hooky weekend....
Whipper-Snapper: another half of mild is it grandad?
Grandad: What?
WS: I say... ANOTHER HALF OF MILD IS IT GRANDAD?
Grandad: You'll have to speak up a bit...
WS: DO YOU WANT A DRINK?
G: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I believe we all enjoy a drop of the black stuff and that is where the similarity ends. I would enjoy kicking lumps out the irish git though, if he wasn't so obviously much harder than me and liable to kick me back.

Glad to hear you're working hard (like a girl) Ben, of course when I went to (the) University (of life), (faculty of hard knocks) I never did a jot of work and look how well I turned out blah blah blah ...........

Where is everyone?

Hurrah...finally managed to get this blogging blog working again. Thanks for your dedicated support line Priesty - NO...O...OT.
I am bored, whiling away my spare time dreaming of lofty spires and idyllic country pursuits, like...HURLING...
Disappointing news about the mobile hotels. How is a hurler meant to enjoy his weekend away from his normal girlie pursuits (washing up, brewing sausages, hanging out the hamsters to dry, putting on slinky silky frilly knick...strike that last remark - it's only since I spoke to Keeno I even thought about that. Not that I think about it now, it was just...SHIT...I may have blown my cover there...
Sorry to hear about Gibbo - really feel for you mate - hopefully a weekend away will do you a power of good.
And Lightwieght - last time we spoke, the date was etched upon your memory like a, like a, well like an ethereal wispy bit of smoke. I assume your arrangements haven't changed since then, as you assured me it was an immovable beacon of defiance to your mundane lifestyle, so I'll expect you for the sacred opening time of 1855 on Friday eve...
Thank goodness the Thompson has been redefined in the dictionary. I really was getting apprehensive about having one applied. Now an absence of response in the electronic ether I can cope with.
BUT...if Doctor T DOES make an appearance, I'm willing to tear up the 2003 reprint and revert to form.
Anyone remember the retractable beard in Leamo?

Well that's killed that one off, what did I say?

What is it - busy or bored?

I agree with Andy on the t-shirt front (and back) lets just go for the logo and maybe a bicentennial special motif.
Large for me.

Keenan did have a rather swanky trailer tent thing but he had to sell it because one of you lot soiled his chemical loo last time he took it to hook. Inglis won't be there with his trailer either so it looks like it's proper camping for all of us.

Back where we belong, Andy, and if our new young goalie doesn't get too nervous I think we could make it all the way to the first round proper.

Answers :

Yes. I'm up for a T-shirt. Leave the tour dates off. Looks naff. Still XXL, I'm afraid. Would be superb to return home with two promotional gifts (still treasure last years Festival pint glass)

Questions :

Is Keenan the one with the 36 foot Recreational Vehicle and will he be bringing it ?
How the heck did Ciddy qualify for Europe ?

Saturday 19th July, probably best to turn up on Friday when the nicknames are given out and the weekends jokes are established.

Don't tell me you haven't been getting the emails... crikey, that's you, thompson, wheeldon ... flippin email, it's rubbish.

Are you coming?

Whipper, hurling is now such an international event that in order to cash in with corporate America I have set this up EST rather than BST or GMT or CET.

I suspect that you and I will be the only hurlers on the right side of 40 this year so whilst the oldies are sailivating over Sue Barker, we will be fighting the young totty off with a large stick I shouldn't wonder.

I've just realised we might actually have 5 a-side for the footy tournament!!

Good to see that you have broken radio silence Mark, I refuse to get my hopes up regarding your attendance only to have them dashed at the 11th hour. If you do make it though please allow me to buy your first pint - heck that's goes for all you guys - the drinks are on me!!
So we've got a free pint AND Sue Barker, I suspect young thompson will be sniffing around and should be blogging along with the rest of us before the day is out.
Not to mention the ritual humiliation of Grandad Morrell getting well and truly drunk under the table by that young whipper-snapper of a son of his.

Latest rumour .... LeverMUFC might be putting in an appearance (well it's about as likely as Mez showing up:-)

Laters

Great to see Cowlz is up at 1am in the morning - probably pretending to drink no doubt. Let's see if he can manage such a long evening when the real drinkers like my good self start hitting those halves of mild.
So Gibbo has some recent news which he isn't letting on. Shurely this can't be a prelude to another intricate and involved explanation as to why he can't find Hook Norton on the map.
Anyway, to more relevant matters
Anyone fancy stumping up for a T-Shirt for the weekend - I reckon we can get them for about 10 squid with a hurling emblem emblazoned. I thought we might add a set of tour dates on the back, although I guess that would increase the price a bit.
What does everyone think?
If you're in, let me know the size and colour you want, and I'll get my embroidery kit out.

Nice idea Steve. I have heard a lot about this Internet and these Blogs of which you speak.

Pity I've just started a new job which requires my full time attention otherwise I could spend all day here. So Mez ain't coming for the second year running - was it something I said ? I sure hope Gibbo's recent news doesn't predujice his attendance. Maybe I could give my award winning 'Job hunting when there are no jobs out there' presentation in that eery late afternoon, pre-evening twilight zone.

Looking forward to seeing you London Marathon piccies and scars.

Well only a mere 38 days to go before the big event and the question on everyone's lips is 'how the heck can I get out of it and not appear a wimp to my fellow hurlers?' Well that maybe not on everyones agenda but it is certainly on some. You could try the 'Mez' and book your self on a conference on the other side of the world (Ben attempted this method but was undone by some minor outbreak of the sniffles in the far east), or you could do an 'Inglis', however this involves your gaining sufficient skill at gliding to get you into the british championships. Having said that there are 38 days to go and how hard can it be to fly those things? I have a beany hat if you want to borrow it, you will look the part at least.
Of course the method most people will adopt closer to the time but few can really carry out as well as the master himself, will be the 'Thompson'. Whereas this used to be an endearing term (unless you were on the receiving end of it) used for a neck high footy tackle it is now, sadly, more often applied to someone who completely ignores all telephone calls, faxes and email from the rest of the hurling community and pretends never to have heard of us or our beloved ale induced pranks and japes.
Anyway that is enough for today. If I can work out how to I will make this available to you all to contribute to, in the meantime email me and I will publish anything as long as it (in)decent enough.
Definates for July are me, Morrell P, Junior, Keenan, Selby, Gibbo and Cowls.
Anyone I've missed?