It was a frustrating day at base today. Nothing much happened apart from an investigation into how much interest a few clients should have received on some accounts with very little money in them which pay a negligible rate which only complicated matters more. Two hours work to find 47p. It was a bean counters dream.
The mood of our team perked up when a tin of Celebrations were left on the desk opposite. A cuppa and a couple of mini chocs always lift the spirits. And across the office there was a box of Krispy Kremes, donated a part of the fines system they have when something doesn’t quite to go plan. Sometimes there are more than a dozen boxes on their round table…
Amy had a tennis tournament today. She has progressed to mini-orange otherwise known as the Satsuma Standard. The SS’s are around 8 years old and play on a two thirds sized court with tennis balls that are not as bouncy as mini-green, but livelier than min-red. It’s a progression to get the little ones hit the ball harder but as the balls are softer they don’t go as far. Easy.
Amy won two out of four encounters, and lost her final match, which if she had won, may have meant she finished top of her group. The crucial last game was against Amy’s nemesis, a sweet girl called Dominque who has a sporting pedigree which was much closer to home than I realised when Amy and she initially met.
Amy first played Dominque in a Kenton tournament last year, and won narrowly in her first and only victory over her. I got chatting to her Dad, and I recognised him from somewhere but I wasn’t quite sure where. After we had introduced ourselves we made some small talk and he mentioned that he had played for Spurs youth and also Wealdstone, and his name was Samson. It was then that I recognised who he was and I said his surname, Olaleye, before he had the chance to fully introduce himself.
Back in the late eighties I was a frequent visitor to Lower Mead. I couldn’t afford to get up to Norwich so going to see Wealdstone was the next best option, much cheaper, and only a couple of miles away as opposed to well over a hundred. I saw Samson play quite a few times one season. He was a tall, gangly but athletic player who scored quite a few goals. When he scored we were treated to an obscene dance called the “Samson Boogie”. It was a series of very unsubtle pelvic thrusts in the direction of the home supporters.
His most memorable goal was at Dartford. It was a nothing game for Wealdstone, who were mid-table but an everything game for the Darts. Two wins would have seen the team, managed by Peter Taylor, promoted to the Conference. Samson scored the only goal of the game, Wealdstone hung on for a memorable win and that loss left the door open for Merthyr Tydfil to win the league and promotion at the expense of Dartford which they duly did.
I’ve no idea why the Stones played so well that day, but it was just one of those games.
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