Here are a few thoughts I jotted down after our epic performance at the UK Championships.
It feels nigh on impossible to condense all my thoughts and feelings from this weekend into a post, but I'll give it my best shot.
Friday night I was the first Londoner to rock up in MCR - I rolled up to Whitworth and met loads of lovely MCR folk at their ghetto court - skim that surface and you've got a lovely spot for summer throw-ins - before hitting the ales in town and hooking up with the Schmoovesters and the Cosmics. Kat and Sara hosted us wonderfully, fuelling us with night time whisky and morning vegan fry-up, chased down with buckets of coffee. They graciously turned a blind eye to the Cosmic love nest we built in their living room, and got us to the court on time. We couldn't have been treated any better.
Saturday felt more like a polo carnival than a tournament - the long afternoon break in the sun, BBQ and dub on the stereo, beers flowing and the scent of grass, both cut and smoked, in the air. It was great to see the London yoof - Cogs and Fiasco, playing some of the best polo of the day, presumably aided by absence of aforementioned beer and grass. Apples were steaming by the time they took to the court for their victory over Fen Boy 3 by the narrowest of margins. You guys had me worried for a moment there! Pub, pizza and polo banter in the evening, with Toddy on top form as ever:
I am the.
Overcast Sunday morning - less sunbathing, more polo. Familiar names shuffling around the top of the leaderboard and Fen Boy 3 in particular finding a rich vein of form - the only non-London team to qualify for the top eight. From this point onwards my mind becomes a jumble of assorted images: Todd and MAT playing out of their skins against Malice, forgotten sausages on the barbeque, my Dad rocking up to see bike polo for the first ever time, Gabes cupping the ball against his wheel in the Apples/BAD games, fooling pretty much everybody in the building, then stacking it in style; Aidan's lob hitting the ceiling; Gabes again coming round to BB the GG and reach the final. Cosmic v Apples. The stuff of dreams. Em yelling 'Come on Cosmic' and me replying 'Come on Apples'. 1-1 after nearly 20 minutes. Patches of silence; moments of mayhem. The final 30 seconds with a 1 goal lead - me in possession of the ball. I've been here before and fucked up big time: against DTG in the Euros last summer, against Oxford in the BFF, both times letting the opposition equalise and then win on golden goal. But this time we hung on 'til the buzzer. Half and hour and only 1 goal between us. Like I say, the stuff of dreams.
So many people deserve thanks for an incredible amount of hard work: Adam, Netto and the wider MCR community(what a wonderful group of people) Gabes for crunching the numbers and helping everything flow so smoothly, Paul for building an incredible trophy with only a couple of days notice, the whole LBP crew and especially the Apples for a phenomenal final in so many ways. Todd and Mat played some stunning polo, continually leaving me in awe of their bike skills and proud to be Cosmic. Eyjafjallajokull, by contrast, can go fuck itself.