I finally meet Kenneth. He has been plaguing me with requests for lessons, but always at impossible times. I collect him from Thame and realise how far it is to get to Wycombe. His two hour lesson is only going to get him about half an hour in town. A problem, as is his driving, which after 40 hours of lessons is a million miles from test standard.
Simon cheers me up,but surprises me with the news that Lambert, the wycombe manager has quit. Imagine hearing that from a Peterborough fan. I remember the time when if Westie sneezed I would be amongst the first 6 people in the world to hear about it.
The evening is a sickener. European Cup Final. Chelsea v Scum. The scum are all over Chelsea in the first half, but a late equaliser perks up Chelsea and they dominate the second. It goes to extra time.Chelsea rattle the woodwork twice, but as so often the match runs out of steam and goes to pens.
Twat Ronaldo completely fucks up and it requires just for Terry to tuck the ball away and the scum are dead. He hits the post, and from then things unravel with a horrible inevitability. Vomit
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