I feel guilty now!
Almost like that time I dobbed on Ginger Jenkins in secondary school for flashing me a glimpse of her panties, even though I thoroughly enjoyed it!
*She was just called Miss Jenkins, before that day. Obviously died her hair!
Anyway, 2 months later, they promoted her to headmistress, so we all lived happily ever after... which brings us very much back on topic...
Few topics about serious issues and doom and gloom in the Jim Smith Room but struggled to find one about happy/funny/inspiring stories
so here is three I have come across in the past few days
Japanese fan https://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/football/51516582
I'll reserve the right to boo first though, BOOOOO
Left the Army at the end of last year and having been a keen amateur photographer for many years I did a course on Advanced Level 3 Wedding and Portrait Photography for my resettlement.
I can offer a bespoke package (whatever you want) at a fraction of the cost - to reflect that I am just starting out (I guarantee the photos will be in focus 😁)
Still got our old GSD(Bruce),he’s a rescue who’s at least 9 now and struggling we needed a dog too look after the lads and house who was a little less full on than Bruce.
Bruce will lie on top of Joel so no one can go near him and that’s what we wanted.
Bruce and a baby Igor.
Still think it's quite sad that a single paragraph by Max Lowe has seemingly trashed a young sports journalists career, namely Chris Coles, for not challenging the comment, he did nothing wrong and probably didn't even hear Ramage's stupid quote, I didn't first time i heard the quote and I had to listen again before I heard it properly.
Feel so sorry for the young journalist, who probably earns in a year what Max earns in a fortnight. Maybe they should have a chat and do what's right?
Based on the below he was a big favourite at Watford. Column by a fella called Richard Murphy
Wasn't the worst player I've seen play for us . But certainly not in my top 20- probably better than Harkes and Kuhl who took his place in the squad mind.
There really was only one Craig Ramage. From the moment that he made his effortless first touch in his debut at Charlton, there was incredulous excitement that Glenn Roeder had unearthed such a veritable gem. And all for just £90,000? This footballing god was priceless!
Probably Watford's most naturally gifted player in the barren years between GT's two reigns, he had the touch, vision and, most importantly, the nonchalant swagger to mark himself down in WFC folklore. His middle name should have been 'Showboater' rather than just 'Darren', and, as a result, he inevitably polarised opinion amongst fans. Perhaps, off the pitch, he did fall in love with the idea of the playboy footballer lifestyle, and, on the pitch, he was frustratingly wasteful at times. But, whilst some disliked him for being a casual poser, many more loved him for virtually the same reason, as he really was 'worth the entry money alone'. Suddenly, after years of huffing and hoofing, the unlikely source of Derby had delivered the Vic a saviour who would show us a glimpse of the beautiful game.
In his first full season, 94/95, Ramage inspired a seemingly relegation-threatened side to within a whisker of the play-offs, proving that, for all his sumptuous style, he still provided the substance of an end product as well. Employed through his career as a striker or in midfield, he really sparkled at the top of Roeder's diamond formation that season. Despite the dodgy cloth of which the Hummel shirt was cut, he made the Glory Horns look good playing football again.He ghosted past players with the shimmy of Gazza, threaded through impossible passes with the vision of Cantona, and curled free kicks into the top corner with the impudence of Zola. Even the Derek Payne five-yard pass was made to look incisive when it ended up on the end of Craig's twinkling toes. He scored eleven goals that season and had many more assists, guiding Watford to finish in an unforeseen seventh place.
With such a mercurial talent, there were those who said it would not last. And they were sort of right. After a well-deserved holiday, he came back into the 95/96 season a little unfit and overweight. But with 'tracking back' not part of his Derbyshire dialect, what did it matter? Still, he was dropped for the whole of August. Rumours that he took a swing at Glenn Roeder but couldn't get his arm past his stomach didn't help. But, he made the perfect riposte to Roeder in his first home game of the season against Stoke City: in a virtuoso performance, he bagged a brace, with a signature freekick in front of the Vic Road End to whom he rubbed his bulging belly with glee. However, without a proven goalscorer to feed, Ramage could not prevent Watford sliding to the bottom of the table in a difficult season. GT's arrival brought a Ramage-led renaissance for the team, including a classic hatrick in a 6-3 pulverising of Grimsby, and in this season of struggle, Ramage still ended up with more goals than the previous season. But even Craig couldn't pull off the miracle and Watford were relegated on the last day of the season at home to Leicester City.
The Second Division arenas of the Recreation Ground and Gigg Lane were not appropriate stages for such a performer and Ramage never really looked happy in his new environment. But injury blighted his season anyway before a petulant sending off in his penultimate game brought an ill-fitting end to his Watford career.
But the appeal of Ramage's footballing wizardry was supplemented by his unique relationship with the fans. That belly rub to the Vic Road End against Stoke or his cheeky little thumbs up to the travelling fans against Wimbledon turned him into the impudent legend he was, leading to the fanzine's popular 'As Cool As Craig' T-shirts. His persona was perfectly encapsulated in the image of him mockingly smoking a cigar in front of the delirious Watford fans after slotting home the fourth in the rout away to Southend. When that sort of imperious swagger was matched by his artistry on the pitch, you had to love him.
Underneath all his on-field strutting, he seemed like a really decent bloke as well. He always had time for the fans away from the pitch, and never forgot the relationship he had built up, exemplified when he sent one of my friends a twenty-first birthday card years after he had left the club. Even Glenn Roeder, who had a notoriously rocky relationship with him, received a letter of goodwill from Ramage following Roeder's brain tumour scare.
With the natural talent he had, perhaps Craig Ramage should have had a career in the Premiership. But, whilst the player himself admits he could have knuckled down some more in his early days where he got caught up with being a young footballer, ill-timed injuries as much as attitude meant he never played at the highest level, leaving his England U-21 appearances as his greatest honour.
Like the great man himself says, "It was great three-and-a-half years, I don't regret any of it". Me neither, Craig, me neither.
Then of course, there's the invitations... you know, those little fancy cards that you send out to invite people to the ceremony/reception/both. Those little fancy invitation cards won't come cheap. It's not cheap inviting people. Invitations won't come cheap... but hey, you can't have a wedding without sending out the invitations. It's the invitations that make a wedding.
(Not overdone it on the invitations bit, Have I lads?)
Thought about that, and for the cake cutting, first dance stuff be alright, but the main pictures might be a bit weird.
Getting married at a hotel, all in one thing and already have to pay £150 to get pictures taken on the golf course behind the venue as they own the land.
Rip off? Absolutely, like I say it’s a wedding. But they do stick you on a bunch of golf carts to take you over to the lake for that.
Not sure all the guests can jump on with their iPhones.
All guests will be told this is an iPhone only event, any Android phone spotted will be evicted from the venue.
One o funniest things I heard were a few years back... I wa on neets and int afternoon when I'd got up Sally pepper wa ont radio... sum one had rang in and Sally asked her what she'd been up at weekend... woman replied I've been ta visit mi daughter .....sally replied oh that's nice wheres she live , how is she? Caller said ...well Sally shes dead ... I went ta cemetery.......ouch ....silence....radio gold...Hilda spat her teeth out... it wor cringeworthy...