Are we not SPW? We are Blackpool!

Last evening we arrived at the Walmington-on Sea church hall cum drill square two points in arrears thanks to some particularly sloppy finishing on my part. I had slid a totally unnecessary pass to Martin for the answer "Radon" when it would have been just as easy to put the chance away myself for two points. Similarly I'm perfectly well aware that the old Nazi in the Vatican styles himself Benedict, but Cumberbatch just wouldn't come even though I think Sherlock was the best thing on TV last year. Two points thrown away in a manner that would make even Roque Santa Cruz blush, if he were ever on the field long enough to get into the opponents' box never mind scorn a gilt edged chance.

Barry, god knows how, rifled home a screaming, thirty yard, "Swing Low Sweet Chariot" to bring the scores level and the Opsimaths edged ahead again with a carefully constructed Laurie Lee. We all had the theme by now and Martin delivered a typically unfussy Ridley Scott to put us ahead only to be equalised by a fairly simple team effort on the subject of "The Lavender Hill Mob".

At all square with four questions to go I convinced my team mates that I knew The Coldstream Guards was the oldest infantry regiment in the British army. Difficult to do when a military historian of Barry's ability is sitting next to you saying very firmly "it doesn't fit the theme". All of us were focussing on Coldstream and ignoring the Guard element. I invented a spurious Private Coldstream who led the platoon that was mentioned even less than that of Private Sponge, we took the lead and held it as Lara Croft eluded everybody, not least because I had misheard the question and was trying to think of architects who could fit the theme.

And so to my final question, and, with the Opsimaths expecting the inevitable and BECK written in block capitals by my own hand right in front of me, I dithered, conferred, we dithered some more and eventually put a weak Bermondsey Lido miles wide (about 7 miles wide - I looked it up.) I've never lived in London and only been south of the river about half a dozen times. I blame Mr. Bath's dodgy southern sojourns in his younger days.

The animated expression of his delight at putting the Bec into us gave way to something like Maradona's coked up celebration of his goal against Greece in Boston as "Dun Cow" wrapped up the points - yes we had that answer too. Great to see but probably shouldn't be repeated too often for those of us of advancing years - which now includes all of SPW!

Much too late for "Don't panic" and perhaps we should have paused and thought "Is that wise?" a little more in the earlier rounds. Still "C'est la bleedin' vie innit" as they say round my way.

Just wish my fellow SPWs would stop referring to me as Napoleon.


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