In truth, that whole week was a cracker. We had some smashing weather, some great snooker matches, including not one, but two maximum breaks. It was a week where we even managed to sneak off school a couple of times, and hit the beach. But that Friday was without doubt the climax of this.
We had a half day in school, as we normally do before the bank holiday weekend around our part, but being the fanatastic scholar that I am, I wasn't even willing to put that much work in. Thankfully, my Mom was working nights, and had no say in the matter, and my Dad is a tradesman, so school is never seen as being too important in his eyes. So, I got the whole day off, and what a day it was.
I got up early, around nine o'clock if I remember right. It was another stunning day out, so I went for a walk, just to take in that morning air and get me buzzing for the day ahead. I got home, made myself a gorgeuos fry, and fired on the television to watch Hendry versus Ronnie.
Some of you may be surprised to hear that I once despised Ronnie. But once it came down to the last four, I was willing him on, and began to appreciate his talent a lot more after his beautiful maximum against Mark Williams. As that extraordinary morning session wore on, I realised I was watching the closest thing seen to orgasmic snooker. It was truly a barrage of excellence. Breaks of 93, 57, 87, 133, 135, 85 & 70 left me speachless, and I had been converted. I was honestly watching a genius at work.
After that amazing morning session, I rang up my best mate Stevie, who had just gotten out of school. They were all heading straight for the beach, including the ladies, and from that moment on Carter v Perry never stood a chance. I plastered myself in suncream,fired on the swimming trunks and a t-shirt, and cycled towards the majesty of the Atlantic Ocean, whithout a care in the world. The excitement of that amazing O'Sullivan display was not wearing off in a hurry, nor did I want it to.
And it was to last. The women were looking well, including my then-girlfriend, and the lads lived up to their high-brow reputation by bringing bottles of beer in their gearbags. After a couple of cold ones (well, sort of cold), I sat back on the sand with my lady, and it could not have been more perfect. She truly was a cracking bird, with tits you could hang your coat on. After a few passionate shifts, we joined the rest for a swim. Thankfully, the beer was not so plentiful that drowning became a worry
As the day slowly slipped away, it was time to head home, and watch O'Sullivan put the finishing touches on his masterpiece. With World Title number three surely in the bag now, I was in a near-flawless mood. Stevie called over in his father's van (in Kerry, the rules of the road don't apply on the backroad LOL, anyway, he only lives a stones throw away). We went spinning around the home parish for a couple of hours, and a now sober Stevie has Madonna & Justin Timberlakes '4 Minutes' blaring around Tubber...looking back, it was probably the perfect upbeat soundtrack to a perfect day.
Memories never die
- Posts: 5009
- Joined: 02 October 2009
- Location: Ireland
- Snooker Idol: Ronnie OSullivan
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