Paralympics

April 19th 2006

“Training for the 2012 Paralympics,” I said, then in steps of about a yard in length started to measure out the distance to the walking frame I’d just flung about thirty yards into the distance.

“Paralympics?” said the man of around my age who’d stopped to watch me.

“Throwing The Walking Frame,” I said. “It’s a new event. Apparently the host country can pick an entirely new event and we’ve chosen Throwing The Walking Frame. Just nudged out the Triple Hop, Hop and Hop for the one-legged I believe.”

I’d found the walking frame abandoned in the park a couple of minutes earlier. Don’t ask why someone would abandon a walking frame, I’ve no idea. Perhaps its owner had been suddenly cured by a faith healer and having no further need of its support had dramatically cast it away. Or maybe it hadn’t been abandoned at all, maybe it had been thrown away by someone who had taken delivery of a new, lighter, faster, carbon fibre, tungsten-tipped walking frame, I just don’t know. Anyway it was there.

Thankfully I still have a bit of the devil in me and when I saw the man approaching I thought I’d have a bit of a laugh, hence the walking frame throw above. The man watched as I picked up the walking frame and returned to the spot from which I’d thrown it. I threw it again. This time it went about a couple of yards farther.

“Farther this time,” the man observed, approvingly.

“Must be close to my PB that one,” I said, pleased with myself.

“Can anyone enter?”

“I suppose so. You have to have a walking frame.”

I retrieved the walking frame and made to throw it again.

“Can I have a go?” asked the man, now eager.

I handed him the walking frame. He drew his arm back and threw it a good five yards farther than I had.

“You’re a natural.” I said. “Why don’t you get a walking frame of your own and join me. There’s an individual competition and a four man team event, but we’d need another two for that. I train every morning at ten.“

He said he’ll be there tomorrow, prompt.

April 19th 2006

“Training for the 2012 Paralympics,” I said, then in steps of about a yard in length started to measure out the distance to the walking frame I’d just flung about thirty yards into the distance.

“Paralympics?” said the man of around my age who’d stopped to watch me.

“Throwing The Walking Frame,” I said. “It’s a new event. Apparently the host country can pick an entirely new event and we’ve chosen Throwing The Walking Frame. Just nudged out the Triple Hop, Hop and Hop for the one-legged I believe.”

I’d found the walking frame abandoned in the park a couple of minutes earlier. Don’t ask why someone would abandon a walking frame, I’ve no idea. Perhaps its owner had been suddenly cured by a faith healer and having no further need of its support had dramatically cast it away. Or maybe it hadn’t been abandoned at all, maybe it had been thrown away by someone who had taken delivery of a new, lighter, faster, carbon fibre, tungsten-tipped walking frame, I just don’t know. Anyway it was there.

Thankfully I still have a bit of the devil in me and when I saw the man approaching I thought I’d have a bit of a laugh, hence the walking frame throw above. The man watched as I picked up the walking frame and returned to the spot from which I’d thrown it. I threw it again. This time it went about a couple of yards farther.

“Farther this time,” the man observed, approvingly.

“Must be close to my PB that one,” I said, pleased with myself.

“Can anyone enter?”

“I suppose so. You have to have a walking frame.”

I retrieved the walking frame and made to throw it again.

“Can I have a go?” asked the man, now eager.

I handed him the walking frame. He drew his arm back and threw it a good five yards farther than I had.

“You’re a natural.” I said. “Why don’t you get a walking frame of your own and join me. There’s an individual competition and a four man team event, but we’d need another two for that. I train every morning at ten.“

He said he’ll be there tomorrow, prompt.

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Razzamatazz

Hi. I’m Terry Ravenscroft, I’m aged 67 and…..whoooah, come back, I’m not ready to have the lid nailed down on my coffin just yet. Anyway I’m a very young 67. (About five years ago I went to see Pulp at the Manchester Evening News Arena. I was older than everyone else by at least 35 years. The eighteen-year-old next to me asked me if I’d ever been to the venue before. I replied ‘Yes I saw George Formby here once’. She’d never heard of him.) This blog is going to be about my life and the way I see things. Before I retired I was a comedy scriptwriter for Les Dawson and Smith and Jones amongst others so there’s a sporting chance that some of the things I write will be funny. One of the reasons I’m writing this blog, although by no means the only reason, is because I have a website www.topcomedy.co.uk which I hope you will log on to occasionally. I have yet to meet anybody who doesn’t like Dear Air 2000…. My hobbies are walking, playing crown green bowls, watching football, birdwatching , cooking, and, according to The Trouble, moaning. Oh, and I have a thing about Kristen Scott Thomas. A couple of people I will be mentioning from time to time are The Trouble and Atkins Down The Road. The Trouble is my wife. I don’t call her The Trouble because it’s cockney rhyming slang for ‘wife, trouble and strife’, but because she has the habit of starting sentences, especially to me, with the words ‘The trouble with you is….’ Then goes on to complete the rest of the sentence with words like ‘you never listen when I’m talking to you’ or ‘you never see the other person’s point of view’ or some such other frivolous complaint. Atkins Down The Road is my best friend and lives, not surprisingly, down the road. I started a weblog a couple of years ago but stopped doing it to write a novel about golf called ‘A Good Walk Spoiled.’ If you want to read the weblog it can be found on my website, if you want to read the novel it can be found on my other website, Razzamatazz, at www.razza.fsnet.co.uk along with lots of other things. Hi. I’m Terry Ravenscroft, I’m aged 67 and…..whoooah, come back, I’m not ready to have the lid nailed down on my coffin just yet. Anyway I’m a very young 67. (About five years ago I went to see Pulp at the Manchester Evening News Arena. I was older than everyone else by at least 35 years. The eighteen-year-old next to me asked me if I’d ever been to the venue before. I replied ‘Yes I saw George Formby here once’. She’d never heard of him.) This blog is going to be about my life and the way I see things. Before I retired I was a comedy scriptwriter for Les Dawson and Smith and Jones amongst others so there’s a sporting chance that some of the things I write will be funny. One of the reasons I’m writing this blog, although by no means the only reason, is because I have a website www.topcomedy.co.uk which I hope you will log on to occasionally. I have yet to meet anybody who doesn’t like Dear Air 2000…. My hobbies are walking, playing crown green bowls, watching football, birdwatching , cooking, and, according to The Trouble, moaning. Oh, and I have a thing about Kristen Scott Thomas. A couple of people I will be mentioning from time to time are The Trouble and Atkins Down The Road. The Trouble is my wife. I don’t call her The Trouble because it’s cockney rhyming slang for ‘wife, trouble and strife’, but because she has the habit of starting sentences, especially to me, with the words ‘The trouble with you is….’ Then goes on to complete the rest of the sentence with words like ‘you never listen when I’m talking to you’ or ‘you never see the other person’s point of view’ or some such other frivolous complaint. Atkins Down The Road is my best friend and lives, not surprisingly, down the road. I started a weblog a couple of years ago but stopped doing it to write a novel about golf called ‘A Good Walk Spoiled.’ If you want to read the weblog it can be found on my website, if you want to read the novel it can be found on my other website, Razzamatazz, at www.razza.fsnet.co.uk along with lots of other things.

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