A pub bet…....
So you’re in the pub, having a chat about usual lads stuff - Kelly Brooke’s great figure, the offside rule and the socio-economic impact of the introduction to Brazil of the coffee plant during the 19th century, possibly…...
No, I’m lying, we didn’t talk about all those subjects.
Kelly Brooke was never mentioned …. It was Jordan……. And their prospects for the forthcoming F1 season, obviously. (Well, what did you think I meant?)
Then the argument started. We were talking about kids programmes of yesteryear… "I remember, right. I remember, on Blue Peter, years ago, right? They had Captain Cook’s very own tortoise on the show. Alive!"
"What do you mean, Captain Cook’s very own tortoise?"
"When he nipped into some island in the Pacific to claim it for Blighty, the natives gave him a little tortoise – as …"
"A pet? … Lunch? …. Hat? What?
"A gift. They gave it to him over 200 years ago as a token of their grovelling gratefulness for being conquered by a far off Super Power. The Cap’n said "It’s just what I always wanted" and took it home with him".
"Bollocks. I don’t believe it. I had a tortoise when I was a kid and it only lasted 3 weeks before it croaked."
"Well, Cap’n Cook obviously knew what he was doing ….. painting the little chap’s name on the shell using unleaded paint, tucking him up for the winter, fresh lettuce"…….
"No, honest. I really did happen!"
Did this sound a tad juvenile to the casual passer by? Well, possibly - but there’s something about a pub, a few pints and a liberal dose of testosterone to ferment a mindless Daily Sport type debate that brings out the worst in me…..
Does anyone remember this momentous event with Chris, Val John or Pete….. or did I dream it? There’s a whole pint of Well’s ‘Bombardier’ nervously resting on the outcome….