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Anthony Boydell
United Kingdom
Unspecified
Unspecified
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Tonight, in the UK, is Comic Relief night – the summation of weeks, nay months, of charity fundraising with comedy as its main tool: ‘do something funny for money’ is this years slogan.
Ironically, Comic Relief night is probably the most least amusing night of any given year filled, as it is, with 5 minute skits involving ‘celebs’ desperate to prove that they care by pretending they’re Take That, swimming up the urinary tract of a Blue Whale or otherwise ‘demeaning’ themselves to raise a couple of quid for ‘those who need it most’.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m all for charitable giving, but take my money and get on with the job – please desist from filling up a perfectly good evenings’ entertainment with half-arsed piss-takes of the X Factor, Downton Abbey or more ‘truly heartfelt’ ballads of inconsolable sadness from screechy, albino woman-man Annie Lennox.
Anyway, on the plus side, this meant I had no trouble getting out to the White Lion in Wilton, Ross-on-Wye for an evening of games – well, I say games but we started at 8PM with a 5pl Agricola and finished with Gargon.
It was an excellent Agricola (isn’t it always’), however I pushed my luck a little to much (and too often) and ended up being stiffed out of that all important ‘big fencing action’ in Round 14 - costing me quite a few points and earning me a final placing of 3rd. Still – I had the Stone Oven, Clay Oven, Basketmakers Workshop, the Well and a Fireplace – my efforts obviously concentrating on some kind of medieval kitchen showroom rather than filling those all-important farmyard spaces!
An amusing interlude occurred when club wrangler, Ben, went over to another table to explain what Agricola was to members of ‘the general British public’ – I don’t think they were any the wiser AFTER the explanation – one of them came up with a variation on the classic phrase: ‘Is it like Monopoly?’
All credit should go to Becky for a well-fought evening of agrarian confrontation - she deserved to win, but was edged out by husband Ben at the last moment (all kudos to the G-deck ‘Astronomer’). Ben, fuelled by Welsh ale, made the most of his victory with some well-aimed digs – but being a gentleman, I ‘responded not’, departed with good grace and then backed my car into a high kerb and dinted the flipping exhaust…
…and Ben said rude things about Scandaroon.
If anyone wants me I’ll be in my room.
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