West Indies Tour 2009

West Indies Tour 2009: Taxi! - Day 11

Day 2 of the Test. Martin and his son arrive as usual to ferry us to Port Of Spain but today turn up thirty minutes late. Martin is even more sullen than usual. I suspect the novelty of transporting a group of scruffy , hungover and / or inebriated Brits around is wearing a little thin.


We stop for takeaway coffee to drink on the way to the ground and afterwards Martin drives over every speed hump and road crater he can at breakneck speed. I am wearing a new Barmy Army T shirt , purchased yesterday as a second choice , the one I really wanted being out of stock. Today we arrive at the ground and the Barmy Army guys have the shirt I wanted in abundance.


“ Hey lads is it okay to swap this shirt I bought yesterday – I only put it on this morning”


“ It would be mate , but you have spilt half a gallon of Nescafe down the front”.


How sheepish and foolish I felt. Thanks , Martin.


At the cricket , Collingwood scores a memorable 150 which I manage to capture on film , although this only serves to illustrate the benign nature of the track and once again the game seems to be headed for a draw.


It is at this point in the holiday that our youngest member , Master Thomas Blade aged 3 years and 3 months , comes very much into his own.


Obviously being inspired by , and no doubt learning from , the antics of Messrs Son Of and Saint , he spots his attractive female quarry in the stands and effortlessly pulls, with the aid of only his bat and ball – no mobile phones , West Ham shirts , running round almost naked , or Gangsta Cabs required.


Saint and Son Of hang your heads in shame.


Five-O is enjoying himself even more than usual today and his Carib beer tally is rising fast.


During the afternoon , feeling the hat no doubt , Five - O removes his famous ancestral yellow cricket jacket. This treasured jacket is more iconic than any “technicolour dreamcoat” you may have seen in musicals , having been with Five-O to every test match ground in existence, and round the world ten times.


It is hard it imagine Five – 0 being properly dressed without it.


We leave the ground after the cricket this time walking to a bar two miles away which is close to Howie’s luxury city apartment.


It is here that Five-O has his grim realisation.


“ Oh Sh*t Gigi , I,ve left me jacket in the ground”


Gigi is the very voice of reason “ Don’t worry love , we can pick it up tomorrow. Im sure the cleaner will put it to one side for you”.


As the yellow jacket is only used for effect over Hawaii shirts and there are no valuables within the pockets matters are left like this and we continue to enjoy our drinks.


Tonight , the intention is we stay in Port of Spain for a few hours , although probably without the menu of events suggested by Wycombe yesterday.


Then , there is a bolt of lightning from above and a blinding aura of light surrounds us all. A miracle occurs.


Out of nowhere , like an angel sent from Lourdes , in a city of two million souls and a thousand bars and restaurants , Martin our eagle eyed taxi driver appears right outside, unsummoned, to take us back to Maracas Bay.


He has spotted us despite the fact that it is dark , and we are inside the bar and not visible to normal mortals from the road. I must admit I’m impressed , even though it is disappointing to go home early having looked forward to a night on the town with Wycombe.


On the way home we discuss the theory and possibility of miracles happening with taxi’s – I mean, I thought it was usually loaves , fishes and burning bushes - and there is a degree of scepticism from some and even a suggestion made that one of our number may have made a mobile phone call to summon Martin - Son of?”!!!!!. This is quickly dismissed.


Personally , being of religious mind and inclination , I prefer to believe that Martins arrival was divine intervention – ooops hang on , that’s the doorbell downstairs – it might be the Easter Bunny!


When we get back to Maracas Bay any issues around the miraculous taxi are quickly forgotten and in the bar we move onto the very important business of allocating our new members Addis Army names. You know the rules – everyone must have one.


Walt – easy. DISNEY.


Christine – more thought required. Eventually , it was decided to give her the name of an England cricketer from the 1970/80’s called Chris.


Fortunately for Christine, we choose the England batsman from Kent , rather than the England bowler from Yorkshire!


Thus – TAVARE.


Vinny. Another piece of divine intervention here I suspect. VIMTO. The rationale is stated below!


We all turn in at 2am , and have collective nightmares about whether Five-O will retrieve his precious jacket in the morning.



Quote of the day

Saint “ VIMTO. A non-alcoholic drink from the North which is also an anagram of VOMIT”


Midnight




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