A Well Earned Winter Break

A rare Saturday lie in. We have no dog shows for a while. A well earned winter break for the boys and they have no problems sleeping in this morning.

Things are still kind of surreal at Derby County. After a defeat last week they are back to convincing winning ways again. A 4-1 win over Watford today at Pride Park.

In the evening we are kind of forced to go out to the pub but admittedly it doesn’t take much coercion. We could really have done with a low alcohol night before our race tomorrow but Daughter had requested whether she could have a few friends around to celebrate Halloween and basically we weren’t invited.

The best thing about her having a bash is that it’s compelled her to tidy her room and we’ve binned a ton of stuff. She now has a room with a floor that you can actually see and even walk on. I’d forgotten what colour her bedroom carpet was.

We decamp to the Plough, for just a few.

(Saturday 30th October)

Team Building

I read somewhere that Derby’s pre-season training has involved having the players jumping off forty foot high cliffs in Dorset, all in the name of team building. Hmmm... and we wonder why we get so many injuries. Unless they’re trying to get rid of a few players, then you could sort of understand.



MD’s at the vets tonight for his annual service and MOT. L joins us to offer moral support. We figured MD wouldn’t be happy about it. He’s seriously worried in fact. I think in case the vet tries to hack any more parts off his anatomy. Understandable really, after what happened last time. The vet tries to win him round with some fish treats which MD elegantly spits back at him. His assistant, a young female student vet, has a go too. She gets down on her knees, pets his ears and offers him the treats... Nope. Spit. She can’t win his affections either. It would have worked for Doggo. Might even have worked on me. Doggo’s always liked his female vets, even the one who got to squeeze his glands... come to think of it, particularly the one who squeezed his glands.

L’s personal training plan, devised by me, says she needs to do a timed kilometre at the weekend. However I haven’t measured it yet. So as we walk to the pub later I map it out using the GPS on my phone. Much better to do this on the way to the pub, rather than on the way home I reckon. Although having a dog with me probably still caused me to zigzag a bit.

Tragic news at the pub. Another customer who’s always there with his Alsatian is on his own tonight, looking distraught and carrying a photo... of the dog. L ventures in where I fear to tread, finding out that the dog died suddenly last weekend, aged only nine. Which somewhat takes the gloss off a night’s drinking.

(Friday 23rd July)

The Omens Are Not Just Bad...

Two park sessions in two days with the footballs seem to be too much for the dogs. They’re supposed to be outdoor dogs, which allegedly go on forever... simply not true. I cut it short as I’m the only one of the three us still playing football.

Then I head over to Derby with trepidation. My mate predicts the score line Derby 0 Forest 3 and lots of booing. Not sure what he means about ‘lots of booing’, probably be from the Forest fans if they only score three.

Did he say 0-3? I’m not that optimistic. Forest are nineteen games unbeaten, unbeaten away all season and they won 5-0 on Tuesday night whilst Derby were losing at lowly Plymouth... the omens are not just bad, they’re horrific.

Football though is a funny old game, so they say. Which I suppose is why I retain an interest amidst such adversity. Almost from the kick off, the game is all Derby. Forest are, if we’re being honest, largely rubbish and rely on high balls forward, which are probably the one thing our defence can cope easily with. So perhaps it’s not going to be a thrashing, although I still expect Forest to nick it as we simply don’t score goals very often. It’s also a feisty game but only really because we have one of those referees who insist on stoking it up at every opportunity. As if a local Derby needed any spice adding.

Then with twelve minutes to go Rob Hulse powers in a header and Derby have a lead that they manage to hang on to.



There’s even an entertaining bust-up on the touchline over a throw-in as the game headed into stoppage time. As players and staff from both teams piled in, goal scorer Hulse appears in the centre of it, despite already having been substituted five minutes earlier. Afterwards Nigel Clough declined to comment, as he was accused of kneeing Forest manager Billy Davies in the leg during the melee. Excellent stuff, pure comedy. I'm sure they’ll be some great chants emerging in stands about this soon.

In the evening we’re at a party, L's brother's 30th. The bash clashes with one of Daughter’s gigs, Emilie Autumn at Rock City. I’d never heard of her... quick Google... quick Myspace... hmmm... she looks interesting.



I would quite like to have gone and been an embarrassing parent there but never mind.

A quick perusal of the menu for L's brother's do informs me that it’s a post-Christmas party... which means they're serving Turkey with all the trimmings and Christmas pudding on the 30th January! Honestly how long does this Christmas lark go on for these days? Or is this the start of next year’s build up. I bet there will be some saddo sitting there already saying ‘Phew, I've just finished my Christmas shopping’.

We resist the temptation to turn up in reindeer antlers and have a pretty good evening. As good as possible considering it’s over on the outskirts of Derby and we end up driving. We leave just before eleven and drop Son off at home before slipping into town for a few, thanks to everywhere being open until 1am these days. Although we seem to tumble from one 30th party to another, as there’s the dregs of one still going on in the Ropewalk. Just hope Geoffrey didn’t mind us gate-crashing.

Way To Go

As I check the news this morning I’m really surprised not to see a resignation at Derby County following a performance like yesterdays. I’m not saying I wish him to go but he really did look like he had given up and had no idea whatsoever on how to improve things out there.

The temperature is above freezing today and we have a thaw of sorts. So we both run, separately of course. I do 9.5km and it was quite a pleasant. The ground was actually very runnable, provided you aren’t required to try and stop quickly on the icy surface. Then when I get home, after a quick break, I go around the park again, this time hurling a couple of little yellow balls into the melting snow with two dogs in hot pursuit. Well more of an ambling lukewarm pursuit in Doggo’s case.

Then later on we hit the gym, so that I can do the bike ride that the weather doesn’t really permit. I do 15km at 90rpm which makes the legs burn a bit. In fact I have to walk on the treadmill to loosen up afterwards before crashing in the cafe to wait for L, who opts to lengthen her stay on the weights. Frankly I think I’ve done enough today.

Where once it was a little lad in a flat cap pushing his bike up the cobbled hill to deliver his Hovis now it’ll be no other than World and Olympic champ Victoria Pendleton, who has signed a deal with Hovis to recreate the famous advert from the 1970s. Now no messing around Victoria, we know you can get up that hill without getting off and pushing.



Then, as it’s my brother’s birthday, we head over to his place for a curry night but mainly to try and beat his seven-year-old on the wii. Much to the amazement of all of us, even my mother gets on the balance board and has a go at the downhill skiing. She even sneaks in ahead of the seven-year-old. Ha. Way to go Mum. My father loves it so much I can already see what’ll be top of his birthday list.

The Smell Of Bacon

The smell of bacon, the sound of Daughter’s vocal chords (still going strong after twelve hours) and the beginnings of a hangover get me up fairly early this morning. After serving notice to the hangers-on from last night’s party, I head off on to the park with the dogs and also fetch the car back from where we left it last night.

When I get back home we still have guests but the last few stragglers finally leave around midday. Son summarises the evening on his Facebook, his post apparently done using the on-screen keyboard because his got damaged mid-party, along with his bed and several other things. A pretty good night he reckons, hmmm.

We stay in for the rest of the day, to dry out and clear up. The amount of empties is staggering; I have a serious amount of glass recycling to do. Meanwhile my hangover appears to be working in reverse and getting steadily worse.

I am thrilled for one Derby County stalwart who has been named in the New Year Honours list and awarded an MBE. Gordon Guthrie has been at Derby for as long as anyone can remember. He certainly appears in every team photo taken since I’ve been supporting the club. Guthrie was formerly on the playing staff but then in the late sixties returned to serve as first second team trainer before becoming the clubs physiotherapist. Consequently he has served under over twenty different managers and was given a testimonial in 1988 for 20 years’ service. He is at the club now as kit manager. Gordon will probably never retire and he probably knows too much for anyone to dare to ask him to leave. If he did ever write his memoirs it would be a very revealing read but it won't happen, he’s not the sort of chap to dish the dirt.