Remember how I said the downside of being injured was you couldn't do anything with your free time? Well, I guess I meant you shouldn't do anything with your free time.
After a week in a sling and with plenty of little white pills my shoulder/arm/AC joint/whatever (sorry Fran) was feeling a lot better, so I decided I'd go referee a couple of games; if I couldn't play myself, at least I could be involved that way. It went well, too - turns out the the guy who reffed my game last week (during which I dislocated my collarbone) did himself an injury too, and was unable to ref this week. So I did his game, and an U15's match before it.
Coincidentally, he showed up at the U15's match; as well as being a ref, and secretary of the association, he also coached his side's U15 team. He liked what he saw though, and it's always nice knowing the blokes in power think well of you ;-)
The second match (a Divison 3 clash) went alright too. Paul's team (the Eltham Black Eagles) had their first win of the season, an 8-2 drubbing of Knox. I know it sounds a little bit suspect that their first win of the season should come precisely then when I was reffing their game, but it wasn't like that. Honest.
Saturday evening my honorary sister Amanda had her 21st at Suede, on Smith St. It was a uniform party, so there were plenty of sportspeople, skimpy cops, busty nurses, and a boob-fairy (go figure). No prizes for guessing what uniform I wore. I'll upload some of the six-dozen photos I took later (with my sparkly new camera!), but it was a great night. It was marred, I'm afraid, by several drunken collapses, tears, and some loud arguments outside the bar when we left, and it upsets me that people would spoil someone's 21st like that, but as you may remember I didn't have exactly have an unblemished 21st myself either.
Sunday was swell - I took the day off work and went to the Night Cat in Richmond, this fabulous place that hosts a swing band every Sunday afternoon. It's a shame I can't go every week, but weekend work pays too well to give it up. Anyway, one of the chaps (Evan) from Doncaster Swing was celebrating his 24th birthday there and had given everyone vouchers for cheap entry; how could I resist? So, despite ostensibly convalescing, I kept dragging myself out onto the dancefloor - how can you disappoint when so many ladies ask you to dance?* In my defence, I did try and restrict myself to slower songs.. at least until after dinner, when the remnants of the Doncaster gang were the only people dancing in a cosy little bar called Scarlette (with another live band), and I decided that everyone else had danced with Evan so I deserved a go, too. I was rubbish, of course, but I think the older folks watching got a kick out of it *chuckles*
*If you answered "By dancing with them", contact me for a prize.
No comments:
Post a Comment