the north face hat Cheeky Punt and Kenyan Premier League are done
Can I just state, for the record, that that me now finished with the Kenyan Premier League.
On Friday afternoon and for reasons that are still not fully clear I steamed into Ushuru FC to the tune of 160 sovs at home to rock bottom Nairibo City Stars. Watching them then toil to an absolute stinker of a 0 0 draw was simply not in the script.
I was naturally devastated afterwards, but found some solace in the old Kenyan proverb that states a man has injured your goat, do not go out and kill his bull knows I should be used to it by now but seeing my coupons busted in such horrendous fashion on Saturday really took it out of me mentally.
For the second successive Saturday a Manchester club priced up at 1/4 ruined a proof 100 double as Pep Guardiola City failed to make their dominance count as they shipped a goal in injury time to draw with plucky Middlesbrough.
I was still on for a 378 four fold windfall however with another bet as long as Bournemouth beat Sunderland. They would beat Sunderland right? You know Sunderland, the team rock bottom of the Premier League who had to play the final half hour of their game at the Vitality Stadium with 10 men following the dismissal of Steve Pienaar. That Sunderland. Incredibly the Black Cats made light of their numerical disadvantage to punch out a crucial 2 1 win on the road. And to add insult to injury a 40 FA Cup treble was undone by MK Dons conceding a late goal to Spennymoor (I had the Dons to win minus one and it finished 3 2).
I was meant to be going out on the ale on Saturday but such a shambolic run of bad beats left me skint and on the settee with my head in my hands wondering whether my life was in fact actually just The Truman Show set in the north east of England.
Indeed it awful doing a bit of self analysis and realising that every single one of your problems in life is caused by you being a fking idiot.
I was still mourning my horrendous bad coupon beats on Sunday so vowed not to have a bet all day, despite the fact there was some choice Premier League and FA Cup action afoot and I had been talking up the draw in the north London derby all week.
I had my sensible head on for a change and was in the gym for nine bells grinding on the running machine and cross trainer. As usual the TVs were on in the background and I was amazed to discover that Tim Lovejoy is still getting his game on the box. Make no bones, that man is a proper div. I mean I not saying I hate Lovejoy, but I would definitely unplug his life support just to charge my iPhone.
The irony was not lost on me either about all these cooking programmes on a Sunday morning a time when every fker is actually wrecked in bed too hungover or schitzy to answer phone calls from their own family, never mind make a Beef Wellington.