Murray: To inflict the curse of Murray Walker. Murphy's law states "Anything that can go wrong will", Walker's commentary on Murphy states "Anything that can go wrong will, but only after one says How fortunate it is that such has not occured, or that or points out the unliklihood of it's occurrence". Eg: "The driving skill of Damon Hill and the LEGNEDARY reliability of the Williams-Renault package will surely see him clinch this race", 45 seconds before pistons meeting valves create a plume of white smoke that can be seen from space, and a £1m coffee table.
I took a pile of cash away with me. I wanted to be sure of having enough money to replace missed connections. Not one mode of transport let me down. And I was just thinking this to myself, having said Goodbye to Jem and rolled out of Manchester Picadilly towards the airport. And was just thinking..."Class....I'll pay for my bass tomorrow and have it by weekend". When: "ladies and gentlemen, the points are fucked, the line to the airport and Wilmslow and fuck knows where else, is gone. we're going back to Picadilly, when at some unspecified time we'll get you there". I would add that, I had seen an earlier train about to depart and thought.....why run, you'll just start your fucking "y'know" off, after it left you alone nearly the whole weekend. An decided to get one 5 mins later.....which was of course, the LAST train that got down the line.
What followed. I just can't BEGIN to tell in detail....but it involved about an hour's worth, of alternating worried waiting and sprinting, lugging my case, around the station. I was just about to get a taxi and bill it to the railway as I was told, when the fucking line opened...trains running, they aint gonna pay for the taxi......MORE running. So an hour later, and with 30 mins, and a 25 minute train journey between me and check-in....I was...errrrm stressed. Thoughts of hugely expensive later flights running round my head, not to mention the unthinkable possibility, that the later flight was full. When the train stopped, 500 yards from the airport and sat for 15mins so that I arrived 15 mins so that I arrived at the airport station, 5-10 mins ( sorry it's a blur) after the flight should have closed. More running, like man possessed. Only the niceness of the check-in lady, and the shitness of ATC giving my flight a 25 minute late slot ( that no-sod put on the boards...I could have walked, had a piss and found some water, after I checked in) Got me on the plane. They I landed in stair-rods of rain...and was told that they'd been seriously contemplating closing Belfast City airport.
So, not only should you not count your chickens before they are hatched, you should NEVER even wonder about how many you may have.
Such an end to such a weekend.
I had a brilliant time, despite myself. I barely slept, I barely ate ( tho I did actually manage a decent meal yesterday and a proper breakfast today), I lived on fruit juice, coke, and lucazade. But NO, and their excellent fellow fans, made it ALL worth it, without the slightest doubt.
Saturday night, brought me back to me, it was strange....suddenly in my natural environment, I overcame my mangled insides (and outsides).
