I receive a text message.

“Mmmphhmumphwhassat?” mutters the LTLP from under the duvet.

“Mmmphhubhubhubrrrtextmessage,” I reply sleepily.

It is about half past eleven at night, and I have been asleep for almost two hours. I do not have late nights now, having a Toddler, and I sleep very lightly. The quiet ‘beep’ from downstairs has woken me up.

I turn over to resume sleep.

My mobile phone rings, the silence of the night amplifying the tiny sound that’s set to be the noise of a telephone ringing, as I am not a wanker. I listen to it for a couple of rings before deciding that it might be important, and I trudge off down the stairs to find out who it is. By the time that I find my phone, the ringing has stopped.

I carry the phone upstairs. There are two text messages, the most recent one being from the voicemail service. The earlier message is from Big A. The Snooker Club has won 4-1.

4-1!!! This is a bit unprecedented. I play for the worst snooker club in Britain, a club that did actually go a decade without winning a single match. If Roy Castle was still alive we would have been on ‘Record Breakers’ alongside some students who want to spend five weeks push dried peas round their garage with their noses. 4-1.

In a way, I am a bit sad about this. All the others have been practicing constantly and have got better, and I feel that something has been lost from the club. It is far more honorable to be really, really bad at something rather than just being average, which is why I do not understand all the current Eurovision stuff. Nevertheless I was quite happy to be first reserve for this match.

I check my voicemail message. It is from five drunk people in a car park, singing ‘Four One to the Snooker Club’ to the tune of ‘Go West’ by the Village People. The noise blares from the phone.

“What the hell’s that?”

“It’s five drunk people singing ‘Four One to the Snooker Club’,” I explain, climbing blearily back into bed. “To the tune of ‘Go West’ by the Village People.”

“Oh,” she replies.

We drift back off, and I practice some shots in my sleep.

23 Comments

  1. I thought it was the Pet Shop Boys. Or was that a cover?

  2. I thought it was the Pet Shop Boys too but that maybe this was some sort of pseudo-in-joke for people who listen to music but after doing some serious and in depth research – it appears that the Pet Shop Boys one was a cover.
    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Go_West_(song)

  3. Village People did the original back in the 70s, it appears.

    I hate people who phone when I’m in bed. Wait till your toddler is 19 and texts you to let you know that she’s sleeping over rather than coming home. At god-knows-what-time-past-midnight. I never actually hear those bleeps.

  4. Somebody actually SAT DOWN AND WROTE the ‘In culture’ section of that article. Truly the future of our civilization’s great knowledge is safe.

  5. Thank God everyone’s too polite to draw any correlation between your absence and the team’s victory. I’m not sure I would have been capable of that sort of superhuman restraint…

  6. If the result was 4-1 and there are 5 drunken people singing, doesn’t that make you second reserve not first?

    You didn’t even make the subs bench!

  7. Phew, Ivan backwardly got there first and I don’t have to be the mean one. Instead I can leap in and say that doubtless it was the superior moral support, the knowledge that although blissfully snoring at the moment, somewhere, somehow Jonny has their backs. I imagine that as the game got close, as that 4-1 seemed to be graspable, there was more than one snooker player wiping a sweaty brow and silently whispering, “just do it for Jonny.”

  8. I know I do.

  9. Oh well.

    Only 3,649 days till you beat your own previous British record.

    (I can’t believe I used a calculator for that. I am like a modern GCSE student)

  10. Shame they don’t make calculators with “leap year” buttons…

  11. If you are practising shots in your sleep .. do you need to play in your sleep too, or is that why you aren’t in the team?

    *runs away quickly*

  12. I hope you didn’t hit the LTLP with any of your somnolent shots.

  13. For God’s sake, Carnalis, don’t dwell on the thought of him practising shots in his sleep. Next thing you know you’ll be wondering what he’s using for a cue, and that way madness (or at least extreme queasiness) lies…

  14. I find it amusing that Jonny’s blog has attracted the attention of an icy mountain.

  15. Okay, so you got a text message. Do you know how to send them? (And if you do, maybe you could tell ME how?)

  16. Lord preserve me from sleeping with someone doing practice shots in bed. I thought rock – climbers were the worst.

  17. The mind boggles as to what you were using as a cue whilst practising your shots in bed!

  18. Yes, again.

    The LTLP does not mind me having a bit of a practice every now and again, although she gets a bit annoyed when I sometimes plump for an optimistic pot at the brown.

  19. Weirdly the pink is worth more points.

  20. Yes.

    I did go for a kiss on that, from a touching ball situation. But I got a kick.

  21. Why anyone would go for a tight brown when there’s a loose pink on offer truly baffles me.

    The only time to leave the pink alone would be when it is completely covered by the red.

  22. Ok, ok – you wouldn’t be able to go for the deep screw in that situation. But that would be the time to reach for the extension.

  23. Right boys that’s just about enough about billiards. I never did understand it.

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