Not quite the Ides of March, but auguries just the same, as we beware The Boss’s Boys…
It was as if the man upstairs was rewarding us for being good little girls and boys last week-end. We’ve all been basking in warm sunshine, for starters; but that’s not even the half of it.
We were on tenterhooks this Monday morning. You see, The Boss had a date with destiny yesterday (Sunday 10th) and we were afraid for our well being if he’d been stood up…
Right from the beginning, the auguries were good. R-Y, first in at 8:10, was delighted and relieved to discover that the milk had not gone off over the week-end. This put an end to a series of poor results, when ‘turned’ milk had to be thrown and R-Y was obliged to eschew his morning Nescafe until Mrs. Doyle could be dispatched for fresh supplies. He told us later, ‘it was then that I knew this would be a good day, a good week, a good…’ (He went on a bit). It was a sign.
Next in was Ricky Rock Star. ‘What’s the news?” he asked, his voice little more than a whimper, a scintilla of foreboding in his throat.
‘Don’t know yet.’
‘Hmmm.’ (Silence). ‘Won forty quid on the National’.
‘Bloody hell.’ (It was another sign).
Mrs. Doyle was next, her week off to a great start, as her habitual trip to the newsagents for milk was deemed unnecessary. ‘What’s the news?’ she asked, her features a study of abject pessimism.
‘Don’t know yet.’
Mrs Doyle and John O'Shea
‘Bloody hell’, said R-Y and Ricky Rock Star in unison. (It was yet another sign)
What could go wrong? So much good fortune had befallen us on just the one weekend; but was our world about to be shattered upon the entrance of a broken Boss? The tension was palpable as the studio clock ticked inexorably on and the appearance that would inform our whole day / week / careers edged ever closer…
So, what of his date with destiny? Well, The Boss, as most of you will know, is a Rugby Union coach. Not only does he do development work with school kids on behalf of Lancashire RFU, but he also coaches Sedgley Tigers’ U14s. The boys had made it to the final of The Lancashire Plate and his charges had been fighting it out against their oppos from posh Fylde RFC at Southport. If the match had gone well, we were looking at a week of beer and skittles. If it’d all gone a bit Pete Tongue, we’d be on bread and water (and any laughter in the office for the foreseeable would have been regarded as disloyalty, punishable by death or dismissal). To make matters still more (potentially) explosive, Son of Boss, (that’s Young Greg), is the team’s hooker…
At last, from the narrow staircase that joins our exclusive eyrie to the cheap seats below, came the unmistakable sound of The Boss’s plates of meat as he took the steep steps at a gallop. It was another positive augury. R-Y barely had time to raise a thumbs-up before the door burst open to reveal the Boss, in his Tigers’ shirt (and if you want to know what that means, click here), and a smile on his face that couldn’t have been broader had it been fashioned by a well-aimed Stanley knife.
We knew then.
There was no ‘good morning’, no small talk – in fact, no words at all. The Boss, much to the amusement of Mrs. Doyle, began to dance a delirious jig whilst waving his index fingers aloft and singing, quietly at first but with increasing gusto, ‘we are the champions, we are the champions.’
Sedgley Tigers, Lancashire Under 14's Plate Winners
And did we join in the celebrations? You bet we did. In fact, we did the company conga. A happy morning was had by all, watching video footage (shot by Mrs. Boss) of Our Gallant Boys collecting The Cup and a whole heap of stills, one of which shows Young Greg streaking, ball in hand, down the wing, with his dad, the combative coach, running outside him, (touch-judge’s flag in hand), for all the world looking ready to take a pass and aim for glory himself.
Happy days!
So now we can focus on next Monday, the day after the FA Cup semi-final, which pits the Reds against the Blues at Wem-ber-ley. Whatever happens then, we can be sure there’ll be at least one miserable bugger to contend with…
