I was busy on Wednesday and couldn’t make the White Acres mid week match, by Sunday I was chomping at
A Bit Of A Tangle!
Talk about coming back to earth with a bump! After my Houdini act with the unseasonal biscuit-loving carp last week, and a Sunday spent helping Mandy on her ladies match (which incidentally was a laugh from start to finish, in brilliant company!) I had prepared the gear for a hectic week of matches and practise sessions, culminating in the Angling Star Superleague final, on the Bonsai Lake at Garbolino Lindholme. My intentions were to fish my usual Wednesday open at Barlborough, the open on the Bonsai on Thursday, and to squeeze at least one practise session in up there either before or after these matches, this I felt would give me both a good idea of what to expect come Saturday, plus enough hours with tackle in hand to be right in the groove. Fate dealt me a cruel blow though, and quite a painful one as it happens!
The Sunday match with the ladies was an all day affair, coach pick up, breakfast, the match itself then a Sunday dinner in the afternoon. Midway through the match I was suffering some discomfort sitting at the side of Mandy, and she noticed the signs straight away. Without getting too graphic, on occasion I get a sort of knot of tubes down in the area where, if you’re a bloke, you don’t want to be kicked shall we say. Know where I’m coming from? It’s something I’ve had for over 20 years, resulting from an operation all that time ago, and will usually clear itself up, but as I’ve got older I’ve sometimes needed a course of tablets, but when it came on back in January I was admitted to hospital for a couple of days, not good! I have a phobia of these places, in fact given the choice I would probably pick a day at Hillsborough rather than there, so the thought of another trip wasn’t even on the radar for me.
By Monday the pain was getting worse, the swelling bigger, and things were looking pretty glum. Tuesday night saw Mandy helping me load the car with my gear (she really is the greatest wife a bloke could wish for!) on the understanding that I would come home if I weren’t catching.
Barlborough is only five miles from our house so I wasn’t travelling too far, but stuck in the morning traffic the pain came on again, only this time twice as bad. I decided to push on (the road works meant I couldn’t turn round anyway!) but when I got into the car park it was all I could do to get out of the car, let alone carry the gear to my peg. They’re a good set of lads who fish there, and they offered to take my gear to my peg, but I decided against it, and set off home. Mandy had to help me unload the tackle at home, bit embarrassing as she’s tiny, but I was in a right tangle by now, not made any easier by the thought of a stay in hospital! I agreed to go to the doctors, where I was given a course of antibiotics and the threat of admission if the painkillers didn’t do their job. Thankfully they seemed to work, and by Friday I was 50/50 going on the Star final. Saturday morning saw me gingerly tiptoeing through the car park at Lindholme, to queries as to whether I’d sh*t myself, or my trainers were too tight, and so on.
These were all the laughs I had though, as peg 6 managed to stick in my palm, possibly the worst peg on the match. And no, that wasn’t me feeling sorry for myself saying that, the big man himself said so, none other than Mr Scotthorne, who I spent an hour sitting behind after giving it my all for the first 90 minutes, a small F1 and a few silvers being my reward. Alan showed me his doubled elastic set up, and talked me through his thoughts on feeding for the abundant F1’s in the Oasis lake, and I reckon I learned more in an hour sitting with the master than I have all season! Back at my peg things hadn’t got any better for the anglers around me, and with the old undercarriage starting to play up I decided to have an early bath, something I’m usually reluctant to do but on this occasion it was something of a relief, plus I would be able to get home and settled in to watch United on the box at Derby. As the results show, that part of my day didn’t exactly go to plan either! A poor showing saw us go down 2-1, the winning goal being scored by one of our old players just to rub salt in the wounds! It was like a morgue in the Wraggy household on Saturday night I can tell you!
I decided to have a rare Sunday off, just to fully get over my ‘predicament’, but I’m already getting itchy feet I can tell you, might have a little evening session up at Barlborough early next week. On Wednesday I’m back on the Bonsai with the taxi lads, then next week we’ve got the last of the Bankside matches, again it’s on the Tripp lake at Messingham which is always good for a few, so hopefully I’ll be back fighting fit and raring to go! See you next week.