3 Oct 2004

I’d rather jack …

On Friday, I went on my first ‘corporate’ since I was invited to the Tantazia ‘Stu Francis’ night last year. Quandix have a hospitality box at the MEN Arena and they gave Bernard a number of tickets to see the boxing and all the prawn sandwiches we could eat.

Ricky ‘The Hitman’ Hatton was fighting another schmuck to defend his title and earn Frank Warren another condo in the South of France.

He should not be confused with Pete ‘The Hitman’ Waterman – although I’d pay good money to see HIM getting a good pummelling – “this is for not letting Kylie ‘explore her creativity as an artist” BIFF “This is for the Reynolds Girls” PUNCH “This one is from Cheryl Tweedy.” KO!

My team looked unhappy as I packed up early to get there. They begrudge me leaving earlier than them and the hard stares made me uncomfortable.

John ‘the Moomin’ was silently fuming. Smoke was rising from the foam of his headset muff.

I explained that I would still be ‘on duty’ but it didn’t wash. A debate broke out about the ethics of boxing.

Barney, the Big Gay Bear, cut it dead by chipping in: “Well I think there’s nothing wrong with consenting adults having a good licking in the ring.”