One day...
Posted: Sat Oct 16, 2021 1:21 am
One day, I will service my bike instead of riding it.
One day, I will now the lawn, and tidy the garage.
One day I will make a list of all of the spares I have, so that, if I'm not around, they will find a good home and be useful to someone.
One day I will choose to work on my fitness instead of sitting around doing nothing.
One day, I shall make a will, plan my funeral party, choose the songs I won't be there to hear and decide how I shall exit this earth.
One day.
But not today.
For today, I shall sit in front of the TV, beer in hand, in glorious anticipation of the last weekend of a year's effort toil, tribulation, sweat, fist clenching bad luck, occasional triumph, offs and on agains, stupid falls on the out lap, poor tyre choices, "electrical faults", jumped starts, long lap penalties and all of the tiny, ennobling, circumstantial nonsequencies that make up a season's racing and watch (on TV) the qualifying and race one of the final weekend of the British Superbike season.
And then, twenty- four hours later, girding my loins with fresh underwear and thick socks, I will get up early and ride in my van to the arena at Brands Hatch where the final reckoning will be decided- and, with my faithful wife at my side, we will witness and celebrate the eventual victor of the 2021 season's gargantuan efforts.
May the best man win.
I hope that every participant gives of their best, that all are celebrated for their valour and bravery, and that none are disadvantaged in the dangerous nature of their endeavour.
And I hope that the wife chooses lighter fold-up chairs for me to carry than last year.
One day, I will now the lawn, and tidy the garage.
One day I will make a list of all of the spares I have, so that, if I'm not around, they will find a good home and be useful to someone.
One day I will choose to work on my fitness instead of sitting around doing nothing.
One day, I shall make a will, plan my funeral party, choose the songs I won't be there to hear and decide how I shall exit this earth.
One day.
But not today.
For today, I shall sit in front of the TV, beer in hand, in glorious anticipation of the last weekend of a year's effort toil, tribulation, sweat, fist clenching bad luck, occasional triumph, offs and on agains, stupid falls on the out lap, poor tyre choices, "electrical faults", jumped starts, long lap penalties and all of the tiny, ennobling, circumstantial nonsequencies that make up a season's racing and watch (on TV) the qualifying and race one of the final weekend of the British Superbike season.
And then, twenty- four hours later, girding my loins with fresh underwear and thick socks, I will get up early and ride in my van to the arena at Brands Hatch where the final reckoning will be decided- and, with my faithful wife at my side, we will witness and celebrate the eventual victor of the 2021 season's gargantuan efforts.
May the best man win.
I hope that every participant gives of their best, that all are celebrated for their valour and bravery, and that none are disadvantaged in the dangerous nature of their endeavour.
And I hope that the wife chooses lighter fold-up chairs for me to carry than last year.
and was named that for the very same reasons 
