...

Some blogs I know

  • Freckles and Doubt
    Considering her mastery of narrative structure etc. (insert narrative structure here.....)
  • Trailer Park Refugee | just three shots of tequila away from a bar fight….
    Just three shots of tequila away from a bar fight...
  • Exile on Pain Street | Straddling the Hudson River. One foot in NYC, the other in suburban New Jersey.
    One man's story, etc.....
  • Fat Man on a Keyboard
    'At first they came for the smokers but I did not speak out as I did not smoke. Then they came for the binge drinkers but I said nothing as I did not binge. Now they have an obesity strategy...'
  • New York Bike Blog
  • Belgian Waffle
    Prolific? Bien sur. Waffle? Not a bit of it. The best thing to come out of Belgium since Leffe Blonde, and that is saying something.
  • Non-working monkey
    'Why taking work seriously turns you into a cock', among other lifesavingly important career advice.
  • Razorblade of life
    'Not so much cutting-edge as half-cut and still sliding'...
  • blue cat
    This blue cat fellow (he writes for the telly you know) issues forth an apparently effortless stream of grade-A funniness that has me overcome in turns by helpless laughter and shameful, powerful envy. There I've said it.
  • Joella
    Joella in Oxfordshire. Working for The Man while training to be a plumber (I think!). Loves gherkins, hates aubergines... and Fascists.
  • Bushra
    Bushra's blog/ homepage/ call it what you want
  • Dubsteps (formerly Hobo Tread)
    Thoughts of Skif, a Havant and Waterlooville fan exiled in Liverpool- possibly the most engaging non-league football writing to be found on the web- and with a little bit of politics, and plenty more beside!
  • Tired Dad
    The Man Who Very Nearly Fell Asleep
  • troubled diva.
    Mike, the self-styled 'Fairy Godmother of British Blogging'. He got us all published in a book, you know...
  • Private Secret Diary
    Dispatches from deepest Norfolk. Not that private and not that secret. Just consistently hilarious.
  • The man who fell asleep; Sadness and ecstasy in unequal measures
    The book inspired by this veteran site (A Year in the life of The Man Who Fell Asleep) features the 'sarcastic polar bears of north London' among other oddities that the author manages somehow to render absolutely plausible.
  • Pete Ashton's Internet Presence
    Birmingham's finest. Writing with enviable clarity on every subject under the sun since 2000 (a very long time indeed!). Now with added nice pictures of canals and stuff...
  • Looby
    'An awkward, clumsy fellow; a lubber; a novice'....a venerated (if refreshingly irreverent) blogging institution. Lancaster's very finest!
  • RichardHerring.com
    The comedian Richard Herring's kind of online diary thing. Always worth a visit.

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« Asymetric | Main | Champion »

February 11, 2020

Comments

Abby

A brilliant piece of Subbuteo nostalgia, wor Jonathan, and thanks for not including the sister who would wander into your room like a Colussus and stand on the occasional Aston Villa player. I also remember when we went to Fenwick's to crowd around and see the Subbuteo world champion (a real person) playing for the crowds with his long fingernails. And didn't you used to sometimes mend your players with Uhu?

Izzy

Yes, a real trip down Memory Lane! And what about those baccy(tobacco) tins that your teams were carefully stored in. Not to mention the holes in trouser legs due to the hours spent kneeling on the floor crouched over the green baize.
I'm so glad that Frank has taken to it. It could be the start of a 70/80s revival. Bring on Madness, Prince,Chopper bikes and Angel Delight and off we go.

looby

Fab! Crikey, 1500 games. That's dedication. I loved the bit about your disabled players (well, "mainmed" might be a better description. Most inclusive :)

I never quite mastered the fine motor control to make the games interesting, so we ended up with a lot of time fetching players who'd gone awol. We tried blow football for a bit, but my brother's breath had quite a high humidity level so we sometimes found that rain stopped play.

jonathan

Blow football was very much the poor cousin of the table football family I think, relying so much more on brute force (if the strength or indeed moisture content of one's breath can be described as such) at the expense of the very fine motor skills indeed required for the suburban young gentleman's pursuit of Subbuteo.

Mind you I thought I was quite good at it until I came across The Champion (read on to today's post!).

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