CNPS numbers spotted 6 (926). It's picking up, but is it going to be too late?
I hoped the early morning start might give me an advantage and indeed Andy had just woken up after having fallen asleep on the couch. He was groggy and moaning and scarcely able to keep his eyes open and feeling stiff from his D 0f E. Ha ha! Perhaps my evil plan would work. And failing that if I could trip him up during the game and injure him then he would have to retire hurt and I would be victorious.
The downside of this plan was that I was also tired, and stiff from all the extra sets I had stupidly played yesterday.
The minute we were on court I knew I was too tired to play well. I wasn't even sure I'd be able to complete 12 games, and was doubtful that I could win a dozen on the trot.
I went 2-0 up, but then Andy woke up and began banging in his serve and my legs didn't really want to move. I lost the set, started playing another, but realised that I was just pissing into the wind. There was no way I could beat him today, feeling like this and I had so much else to do that it was potentially disastorous to tire myself out any more. I retired hurt. It was my pride that was hurt. I had to accept that I am not as fit as I was when I was a teenager. Much as I'd love it not to be true, my body is old and tired and though I'm not quite over the hill, I can see the little cairn on the top of it and am looking forward to getting there and having a rest.
Realising how pathetic it is for a man of my age to chase after his teenage years is perhaps lesson enough for me.
But if I get a chance I'm going to try and have one more match with him before Edinburgh. I have to wipe that smug look off his ridiculous face.
I had been depressed about how everything was going, but on the drive home I realised the Argos challenge had actually been completed. My task had been to ring the PR department to see if they would let me do a task. I had done this. Regardless of their answer the labour had been done. Argos had wasted their opportunity. And also, now they had been so unhelpful I had the perfect opportunity to slag them off on stage. Which I did this evening at a packed gig in Croydon. It went very well.
There is still miles to go in the show and not much time to make it right, but for the first time in ages I feel like I might just get there in time.
Perhaps losing to my nephew was the best thing that could happen to me. Plus he's never been out with any women and I've just been out with 50 in 50 days. So who is best in real terms?