Episode 39: On Facing The New Ball In Life

[organ music]

Good morning.

I trust your cricketing week has been...

No, wait.

Would you please be upstanding and bow your heads for a moment's silence for our association football team as another World Cup dream is no more, has ceased to be, has missed the ball and kicked a bucket, and we will all have to wait another four years before we can say it's coming home.

Thank you.

It has been an extremely busy week in the parish.

Monday was spent at Boycott Vicarage cleaning, tidying, doing paperwork, inspecting my bush.

I'm afraid to say Sir Geoffrey Bat has started to wilt in the heat, causing even more giggling, and making my parish visits.

visits.Young Mr. Gombertz popped in to go through the parish diary, and I informed him I would be away in Nottinghamshire on Wednesday for Surrey's T20 quarterfinal.

A look of panic crossed his face, and he told me I had better see Ted in the Badger's Googly about his plans for the Association Football World Cup semifinal on Wednesday evening.

So I made my way to see Ted and found the Badger's Googly closed with a sign on the door saying, "Not open until Wednesday due to renovations." I knocked on the door, and after five minutes of waiting, Ted's head appeared from an upstairs window.

I asked him what was happening, and he told me it was all a big surprise for the parish.

I told him there would be no surprises without my say-so, and he came down to let me in.

What greeted me was, to say the least, a surprise.

In the middle of the Badger's Googly was a hot tub, and the pub had seemingly been split in two.

On one side were cardboard cutouts of Henry VIII, Winston Churchill, Bruce Forsyth, Bobby Moore, Dame Thora Hird, and W.G. Grace.

On the other side were many cardboard cutouts of Madonna through the various stages of her pop career, including the naughty ones, and a massive hand with God written on it.

I asked Ted what he was thinking, and he told me one side was great British icons, and the other side were, and to use his words, cardboard cutouts of that cheating genius who knocked us out of the '86 World Cup using a hand.

Ted told me he would allow parishioners to throw rotten fruit at the cardboard cutouts of Madonna whilst watching the game, and they could buy the rotten fruit from behind the bar, with all proceeds going towards the parish birdbath.

I asked him why there was a hot tub in the middle of the pub, and he told me it was for the ladies of the WI, who had told him they would like nothing more than to be sitting in a hot tub whilst watching Jude Bellingham.

I think they might have said watching in a hot tub with Jude Bellingham, but I wasn't going to quibble.

I did tell him that his efforts were excellent, but the throwing of fruit at Madonna was not something I could allow, and he somewhat reluctantly said he would put the cardboard cutouts of Madonna away.

I left Ted muttering to himself something about me being no fun, and I retired to bed.

Tuesday was spent doing my cricketing stats and hearing Mr. Gombertz first reading from the Good Book and his musical idea for the choir, namely a reworking of Madonna's Papa Don't Preach.

[organ music]

Good morning.

I trust your cricketing week has been...

No, wait.

Would you please be upstanding and bow your heads for a moment's silence for our association football team as another World Cup dream is no more, has ceased to be, has missed the ball and kicked a bucket, and we will all have to wait another four years before we can say it's coming home.

Thank you.

It has been an extremely busy week in the parish.

Monday was spent at Boycott Vicarage cleaning, tidying, doing paperwork, inspecting my bush.

I'm afraid to say Sir Geoffrey Bat has started to wilt in the heat, causing even more giggling, and making my parish visits.

visits.Young Mr. Gombertz popped in to go through the parish diary, and I informed him I would be away in Nottinghamshire on Wednesday for Surrey's T20 quarterfinal.

A look of panic crossed his face, and he told me I had better see Ted in the Badger's Googly about his plans for the Association Football World Cup semifinal on Wednesday evening.

So I made my way to see Ted and found the Badger's Googly closed with a sign on the door saying, "Not open until Wednesday due to renovations." I knocked on the door, and after five minutes of waiting, Ted's head appeared from an upstairs window.

I asked him what was happening, and he told me it was all a big surprise for the parish.

I told him there would be no surprises without my say-so, and he came down to let me in.

What greeted me was, to say the least, a surprise.

In the middle of the Badger's Googly was a hot tub, and the pub had seemingly been split in two.

On one side were cardboard cutouts of Henry VIII, Winston Churchill, Bruce Forsyth, Bobby Moore, Dame Thora Hird, and W.G. Grace.

On the other side were many cardboard cutouts of Madonna through the various stages of her pop career, including the naughty ones, and a massive hand with God written on it.

I asked Ted what he was thinking, and he told me one side was great British icons, and the other side were, and to use his words, cardboard cutouts of that cheating genius who knocked us out of the '86 World Cup using a hand.

Ted told me he would allow parishioners to throw rotten fruit at the cardboard cutouts of Madonna whilst watching the game, and they could buy the rotten fruit from behind the bar, with all proceeds going towards the parish birdbath.

I asked him why there was a hot tub in the middle of the pub, and he told me it was for the ladies of the WI, who had told him they would like nothing more than to be sitting in a hot tub whilst watching Jude Bellingham.

I think they might have said watching in a hot tub with Jude Bellingham, but I wasn't going to quibble.

I did tell him that his efforts were excellent, but the throwing of fruit at Madonna was not something I could allow, and he somewhat reluctantly said he would put the cardboard cutouts of Madonna away.

I left Ted muttering to himself something about me being no fun, and I retired to bed.

Tuesday was spent doing my cricketing stats and hearing Mr. Gombertz first reading from the Good Book and his musical idea for the choir, namely a reworking of Madonna's Papa Don't Preach.