Tour Report - Page 3

After endless football trivia discussion on the minibus from the airport, the LOBS checked in to their swanky hotel and took in a pre-match meal. There was some consternation when the skipper, Adam Pierce, a man to whom all the LOBS look up to for his intelligence, virility and Oxford standard banter, decided against loosening his taste buds with a glass of local brew by venturing that he could 'not see what benefit drinking a beer (now) could possibly bring'. A shattering blow for those who held the aforementioned in such high esteem. A bit like discovering that Ev wasn't really best mates with Jamie Theakston, opined one crestfallen LOB. The mood was lifted slightly by the presence of a film crew shooting what appeared to be an episode of Hollyoaks. Watch out for Scum, Charlie and Simon Brown in the next series. (Actually, if memory serves Simon Brown was asked to 'move along' by the Director on account of his insatiable gabbling around the set - a constant feature of the tour being 'Brownie's' reluctance to shut his cakehole).

And so to the stadium. A twenty minute taxi ride, dodging assorted fruits hurled at the cars by passionate Alcudia supporters, and the LOBS had arrived at the ground, which could only be described as a cauldron. Running out in front a frenzied 84,000 capacity crowd, the LOBS soon realised that this was going to very different to a January afternoon at Cobham. A goal down at the break, the introduction of Ali and Billy gave the team added heading ability at the back, whilst Mark Watson injected a real sense of pace and energy into the midfield unit. Sadly, the young opponents, cheered on by their die-hard support, stepped up a gear and ran in another three goals past the despairing Goulstone. The chance of a consolation goal was handed to the LOBS on a plate, only for Watson to, quite literally, hand it back again to the opposition by electing to punch (or, if your first name is Phil, 'fist') a juicy cross into the back of the net. Alas, the match was lost, despite some notable heroics at the back by Scum and Oli, and an amazing performance by A.N. Other at right back.

A relaxing evening followed, with Adam finally deciding that drinking a beer might be an interesting thing to do, and the rest of the team decided that it would be rude to let him drink on his own. As ever, however, there was always one person taking it too far, with Scum letting his performance go straight to his head as he bolted liberally, even when Ev hadn't thrown the coin of fear into his sherbet. In search of a bit of holiday fun, the chaps sauntered off to a local discotheque, and were obviously spotted en route by the locals, who had all left by the time they turned up. Unabashed, Goulstone ate everything that moved, and even persuaded two pleasant Moroccan gentlemen to part with some of their sweets in the toilets (Presumably in exchange for a film about three rabid donkeys and an ex-Hull City goalkeeper).

The next day dawned, and the LOBS marched off to the sea front in search of sustenance, with talk of golf/swimming/sun bathing for the afternoon. They eventually arrived at a homely pizzeria, just as the clock struck Midday……

……some 8 hours later, Leesey pulled out the wad of cash and settled up. The intervening time was notable for: Charlie's horrifically tight vest, some lovely Speedos sported by Adam and Ev, Watto being much drunker than everyone else, Ali's giant lollipop, Zooner turning up, everyone sampling Goulstone's sweets on the beach, Watto being much drunker than everyone else, Charlie wiping out on the beach, Watto being much drunker than everyone else.

……some 5 hours later, Leesey pulled out the wad of cash and settled up again. This time it was at world-famous OL Ted Torkington's bar. It was a quiet, civilised affair: a few drinks, some average banter and a rather splendid arm wrestling contest won with consummate ease by Ali (Oh, and by-now-totally-and-utterly-bolloxed Watto stripped naked and dived through a (closed) window).

(Apparently the LOBS then trooped off to Chivas again for a night of fun and games, but as your faithful correspondent's memory stretches no further than singing 'Wonderwall' for the fifth time at Ted's bar - and returned mid-morning to find that Scum had metamorphosed into a new-age traveller with purple dreadlocks - you will have to use your imagination).