We’ve all been there! Drank way too much and lived to regret it. I should add this incident occurred back in the late 70s while on vacation in southern Spain staying at my parents first apartment. The memory was triggered by reading that Kenny Dalglish had been knighted in the Queen’s birthday honours. There’s a connection, I’ll explain.
My parents had just agreed to buy a second apartment, this one was in a prime position overlooking the beach. During the two weeks we were on vacation in Spain, the developer of the second apartment threw a party to which we were invited. It was a mid-afternoon cocktail party and Sangria was on offer. I’d had it before and it was mostly red wine watered down with soda water and orange juice. It was a warm afternoon and the drinks just kept on coming.
There had also been a large amount of spirits on offer but no body was drinking that so the bar staff just poured it into the Sangria. It’s taste was masked by the fruit and fruit juice and it’s effect muted as we were all sitting down in the shade.
During the afternoon, we’d gotten chatting to another couple who’d also purchased a property. The wife turned to me and asked if we’d met Kenny Dalglish who was staying on the development with his family? I said “No!” but was contradicted by my beloved who reminded me of an incident earlier that day when I’d turned abruptly in the supermarket and had sent some wee chap flying. My beloved had realized as he’d helped the unfortunate chap to his feet, that I’d knocked over none other than King Kenny, then at the height of his powers playing for Liverpool FC.
As an aside, it just shows you how footballers remuneration has changed. Kenny was renting an apartment for his family (and mother) just outside of Marbella. Today, he’d either have his own multi-million pound pad or at least be renting a suite of rooms at the Marbella Club. But I digress………..
As we left the party I was swaying on my feet and admittedly not feeling too good (huge British understatement) so decided to go back to the flat. My beloved said I was wandering all over the place and that it was a miracle I didn’t fall into the pool though that may have sobered me up. I woke the next morning, vowing never to drink Sangria again – and I haven’t – to find the room was still spinning. I didn’t reappear until very early the following morning when I went down to the pool to watch my beloved swimming laps in the empty pool.
There was an elderly lady sitting in the shade beside the pool. We struck up a conversation, she had a strong Glaswegian accent, and she told me she much admired my beloved’s athletic prowess and had watched him swim most mornings while on holiday with her son and his family. It was none other than Kenny’s mum which I found somewhat amusing. My beloved confirmed she’d been beside the pool most mornings with her knitting. This is not the first (or last) time my beloved has had an elderly groupie!