Anybody for a game of………Part 2

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That’s the two deadly sporting pursuits dealt with, now let’s concentrate on the more sedate sporting activities carried out on the “Rock”. Firstly I’ll bypass the table tennis. Not many people partook of this curse of the sweat glands. So what next? Snooker. This sport has always been one of my favourites. Watching more than playing, but I’ll give anything a try. Christmas Island Snooker was, no doubt, only to be successfully played by either the colour blind or idiots. Maybe, a long time ago, before the rays of the sun had done the dastardly deed, snooker was a pastime worth pursuing. When I was there the table, although the right size, was definitely not the right colour. Any green that had once existed in the baize had long been bleached out. As for the balls, they had to be seen to be believed. The only one I could identify was the black. The rest had all gone the same way as the cloth. 20 balls, all somewhere in the colour range between off white and off white. Even then there were people who actually played full games on this table. How, I’ll never know. Dominoes. I learnt to play dominoes on the Island. Taught by a Yorkie mate of mine who took the greatest pleasure in slaughtering me at every opportunity. 5’s & 3’s was his favourite version. In the end even I got to the stage where I could make him sweat and win a few games. It became such an obsession with me that the Naval Shipwrights made me a mahogany board to play on. Many an enjoyable day was spent shuffling the ivories. Darts. Now this was the one pastime that could be enjoyed by anyone capable of remaining in the vertical for the necessary period of time. In saying that, I’ve seen some darts launched from some very strange angles in the Island’s NAAFI club. In fact even I have managed to launch a few in the rough direction of the board at some very gravity defying angles. One of the longest games ever played was one between Yorkie and myself. In fact I don’t even think it has finished yet. It lasted for months. We were playing “Double or Nothing 301” If I recall I think by the time we were due for posting back to UK I was in debt to the tune of £2-3 million pounds. Doesn’t say a lot for my ability at darts. Mind you, I’ve got the best of excuses. Who was I playing against? The future “Christmas Island All Comers Darts Champion”. Final Night. Down to two gladiators. Yorkie & a RE Staff Sgt whose name has faded with time. Yes, Yorkie showing that a misspent youth could certainly pay off in the end. It was an extremely long- winded knockout competition. It had its good points though, it was played in the NAAFI. Where could you buy cold beer? In the NAAFI. So not only was a lot of darts played, a lot of beer was consumed as well. Even I got a little bit crashed at times, not at all like me!!!! A little bit outnumbered to say the least. 3 RASC supporters against 73 (Christmas Island) Sqn RE supporters. Worse odds than the Lottery. Thump, thump, thump. The darts hit the board with monotonous regularity. The beer flows, the cheers of encouragement fill the NAAFI. Soon the only cheers that could be heard, barely audible above the groans of the RE supporters, were those of the 3 RASC. Me and two bakers, giving it all we could. Slagging off the RE’s, Senior ranks, Officers anybody we could think of. Why? Because Yorkie was not only on the last leg of the match, he was also on an “Out”. 112. “Go on yer bugger, you’ve got him worried.” Glares of hatred, threats of dismemberment. We didn’t care. Our man was there. Yorkie squares up to the board, hands his glass to his fan club and throws. Whoosh, treble 20. Pandemonium. Whoosh, single 20. Screams of delight. Only 32 left. Yorkies favourite double, 16’s. You could have heard an RE drop, sorry I meant a pin! Whoosh, the dart arches gracefully through the air. Hundreds of breaths are held. Almost in slow motion the dart hits the board. Everyone glares. Hundreds of groans accompany the hysterical cheering, shouting and abuse of the 3 lucky supporters. Double 16. What a shot! Never known him miss it so why had we worried so much? I was absolutely legless, vertical to me had no real meaning but I was going to ensure my mate got the recognition he so deserved. Presentation time. Yorkie goes up for his glistening trophy. Tall and proud, all shiny, with a big dart sitting proudly on top. The base graced with a plaque with the engraving “Christmas Island Dart Champion 1963” “Gizza look,Yorkie.” He passes it across to me. Suddenly I am afflicted with the “Greystone Virus”. No sooner does it touch my fingers than I lose all control of my faculties. From the firm grasp of my mate to the launch pad called Chatty’s hand. As if with a mind of its own the Trophy suddenly leaps from my grasp and proves that Sir Isaac Newton had it right all along. Now Yorkie had two trophies. A bottom bit and a top bit. Whoops. This of course really went down well with the RE’s. I phoned Yorkie tonight (31 Jul 01) to see if he still had the “Bits”, I won’t tell you what he said, but I’m sure we’re still mates. ©: P.B.Chatfield 01 Aug. 01


Joined: 15/12/2017
Posts: 5

Sports news article is always my favorite and your discription is full of entertainment and most wonderful tips about this game. I really like all episode of this animated games and hope to play with service to manage their task. Keep up this nice work.

Joined: 05/03/2018
Posts: 1

Yeah, when you are no longer immortal and feel like some sort of a superman (when you are 15 I'm trying to say) and mastering a new sport takes longer than a couple of days, you start considering and weighting all pros and cons before taking up a new activity. Working for

EssayEmpire I need my both hands to be in perfect condition as well as sound mind and positive attitude.