Omega Seamaster Professional 300m Review
When you see a striker leave a trailing leg to get caught, it's frustrating. But I guess after Saturday, I don't have a leg to stand on, or I do, I just don't care to stand on it.
I don't remember when I left, but I do remember waking up on the bus a few stops too late, buying a kebab and getting home to find both my housemates asleep on their beds, in their clothes.
Secondly, my housemates and I decided to have a spontaneous, and heavy, night out on the town on Saturday. All you need to know about that was that by half past midnight, both of them had disappeared from the bar we were in.
I was, as I normally am at half past four on a Saturday afternoon, on a football pitch (unless I've been hauled off for underperforming). I was inside the box. And I had just won my side a penalty. In vaguely controversial circumstances.
I touched the ball and waited. I don't know where the ball went, but I knew he was too late to get it, but right on time to get me. And he did. And I went down. According to the match Omega Seamaster Professional 300m Review report written by our skipper, I "collapsed".
So I was very excited that we had a game on a Sunday. A local derby at Histon who under the guise of my former football coach at 6th form, and ex Cambridge legend, Steve Fallon Omega Seamaster 300 Movement
confrontation, but I was convinced I was fouled, so I just sat there and hoped that it would all go away.
But I think Rachel appreciated it. In conclusion. Hangover + Friend's birthday = failure to watch Cambridge United. I apologise. I seek forgiveness from the club, and the fans. Maybe if I win eurobillions I'll buy the club to make up for it.
Anyway my confession is this. Short of the bathroom, and the greasy spoon around the corner, I couldn't really move on Sunday morning. John, the other Cambridge fan in the flat, really couldn't move. By the time we'd summoned enough energy to eat, it was gone one. Kick off in Histon was two. We weren't going to make the game. I listened to us concede a 90th minute equaliser. Gutting.
ConfessionIt's one thing getting a slightly dodgy penalty in a football match, but I'm even more nervous about my second confession of the weekend.
Consequently I don't get to see Cambridge United enough. I was a season ticket holder for 12 years growing up. I've seen some great games, and a lot of rubbish ones. But since I moved to London for work five years ago, it's been difficult to get to see them.
Confessions of a TV presenter
Regardless of that, the ref instantly pointed to the spot. That led to the slightly unnerving position of being accused by their 'keeper, of being, for that short moment, the worst human being on earth. I'm not so good at Omega Constellation Gold Vintage
I've always maintained that I prefer playing football to watching it. I love watching it. But given the choice, I'd always play. I play with the boys in the office on a Tuesday evening, and I've played for the same Saturday team for the past seven or eight years.
TheatricalApparently I was relatively theatrical. I'm not blessed with a huge amount of grace. And, as all team mates should be, they're not blessed with a huge amount of complimentary feedback. So by the time we got to the bar afterwards, my fall was being likened to something vaguely resembling a beached whale and a milk float.
As it was, I'd nicked the ball past their centre back and taken a slightly heavy touch. Their 'keeper, not a small man, spotted his opportunity. He came out. It soon became obvious to me (and I guess him) that I was going to get to the ball first. It also became obvious to me (and certainly to him) that he was slowly starting to go to ground. I knew what I had to do.
have done brilliantly over the past few years to get to where they are.
But look, my friends are important to me. So, I sky plussed the Chelsea Liverpool match, and ate a tea cake and a coffee. I was careful Omega Seamaster Chronograph Rubber Strap
I had every intention of going back home to see the game. Then two things happened. Firstly one of my best friends arranged a birthday lunch party at late notice (it's a real sign of age when birthday party's move from Saturday night to Sunday afternoon, but she's pregnant and now 31 and it's her birthday so who am I to argue?).
I remember the act of watching Match of the Day. Turning the telly on, finding it on Sky+, eating and slowly regretting my chips and doner meat. But once I'd woken up, I was able to watch it again cos I'd failed to register anything that had happened.
It did. Nobody hit me which was nice. And we won. 3 0. I would have taken the penalty, but the wind was against us and I'm not sure I could have kicked it that far. And my strike partner was on a hat trick.
But in any case, being accused of cheating isn't a good feeling. I spent the rest of the game trying to be really nice and chatty to the opposition, and to be fair to them, they seemed to get over it pretty quickly. And fortunately for me, I've got a bruise on my foot where he caught me (I do bruise like an old woman).
Quotes of the week
And as that Roadie in the Sky Advert says, "some of you can't be there all the time, but keep the faith all the same". I have faith. Lose at Wembley in the play off final for the third year running. That's the plan.
I was caught for sure. It was a penalty. But had a man arrived out of nowhere with a gun to my head and told me to stay on my feet, I probably could have done.
TeaTo make matters worse, my friend Rachel was having a birthday tea at Liberty. For those of you who don't know it, it's a shop where men should never go. All it has is shoes, scented candles, and wicker. We arrived through the perfume door arguably the worst place to be with a hangover.
Maybe I'd have scored. Maybe not. So what should I have done? When you see a striker leave a trailing leg to get caught, it's frustrating. But I guess after Saturday, I don't have a leg to stand on, or I do, I just don't care to stand on it.
I'm not very fast. Consequently I don't tend to try and dribble round people. My football teacher at school noticed that, by the age of ten, when I did manage to get past a defender, my lack of pace meant that he could just walk back in front of me and I'd have to do it all again. So when I get into the position to dribble round someone, I get a little confused/excited/surprised.
when entering and leaving just to make sure nobody spotted me. Terrible for my profile to be seen being even close to such an establishment, especially when there's a big game on.
Omega Seamaster Professional 300m Review
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