Supersized disappointment

After my jaunt to the land of  supersized portions, you might be wondering how the regime is faring. I’m still on track, aided by the cold which has robbed me of my appetite. The US wasn’t too bad. I had porridge for breakfast, salads for lunch and, for dinner, fish with vegetables. One night, I just couldn’t resist it, I had a half a dozen naked cowboys. They’re oysters.  Still, you’ve got to admit, it’s a catchy name.

My sister and brother-in-law are over in France for a few days vacation. It’s rare they venture over here in the October-March period even though they have a flat nearby. I’ve invited them round for dinner. Fortunately, I always have something in the freezer for such occasions, as I’ve not had either the time or the inclination to cook today. I’m feeling much better thanks to those whisky toddies so won’t be passing my germs on to them. I’m much less congested and the thumping headache has passed.

It started raining yesterday afternoon and it’s continued all day today. The forecast for later in the week is milder. I’m hoping to fit in a ride on Wednesday morning before going to Munich. Germany is also the land of pretty large portions so, again, restraint will be called for. Keep me away from the gluehwein, sausages and apple strudel.

My beloved boys in claret and blue played against Liverpool this evening. I was hoping for the revenge of the returning manager. But once again my (and Gerard’s) hopes were dashed. Liverpool, even shorn of the holy trinity of Torres, Carragher and Gerrard, proved too much for my boys. We went down 3-0 having created few chances and looked very static. Stuart Downing had a reasonable match, I couldn’t say that about anyone else. We’re still very much work-in-progress. Meanwhile, Liverpool can take much heart from the movement and speed up front of Babel, Dunn and Ngog.

Let off the leash

What do you call someone who takes the wrong turning on a pre-agreed route leaving behind the person with the house keys, money, mobile phone, spare inner tube and pump: careless, foolish, idiotic? I think we know the answer to this one. It did of course mean that by the time he reached home his lunch was ready and waiting for him!

Eighteen brave club mates ignored the Arctic conditions to cycle to Roquebrune Cap Martin last Sunday placing us 2nd at the pointage and  catapulting us into 3rd pace, above CC Cannes, in the season long Souvenir Cattanneo  – chapeau guys!

After yesterday’s damp conditions, the sunshine returned, though it was still very cold. Today’s ride was just a club run but I bet we had a very good turn out. I don’t know because my beloved let me sleep in until 09:00am after a night disturbed by my coughing and sneezing.The chest cold is in its death throes.

When we finally went out for our ride it seemed as if every man, woman, child and dog had taken to two wheels. Largely, I suspect because there’s only so much families and festivities one can stomach in the space of a few days.

My nose was streaming much more than usual and I had to keep stopping to blow it. Most cyclists just duck their heads closer to the road, block one nostril and blow. I’ve tried this, without success. I tend to end up with snot all over my face and jersey – not a good look. Maybe my mucus is the wrong viscosity for such a manoeuvre.

I’ve just watched my beloved boys in claret and blue being given a footballing lesson at the Emirates. Arsenal ran out the deserving winners 3-0. Villa were undone by 21 minutes of footballing brilliance from Cesc Fabregas, who came off the bench an hour into the match to strike terror into the heart of the Premiership’s meanest defence. Abou Diaby, France’s new Patrick Vieira, added a third in the dying seconds. This means Arsenal are now 4 points behind Chelsea, with a game in hand, and Villa will have to try harder if they’re to win a place in football’s elite – the Champion’s League.

Tuesday postscript: With both Man City and Spurs recording wins yesterday, tonight’s match against Liverpool was a “6-pointer”. In truth neither team played well enough to win it and it looked as it was heading for a goalless draw when a Villa error in the dying seconds of extra time left Fernando Torres one on one with Brad Friedel. The result was inevitable. Martin O’Neil hung his head in sorrow. Six points lost and an even bigger dent in our ambitions.