The first rule of Paris is: You do not talk about Paris. The second rule of Paris is: You do not talk about Paris. The third rule of Paris is:.......ohhhh go on then, seeing as you forced me. You are awful.
Julie 'Sitchiaction' Clark
Lizzie 'Snake Hips' Willis
Anne-Marie 'Hehawhehawhehaw' Wallbrick
Louise 'Well 'Ard Touch' Heritage
The Right Hon. Justice Kelly of Maguire (LLB, DIY, VAT, DVD, BBC, HEEBEEGEEBEE.Hons.)
Audrey 'Three more games? What three? No beer?' Murphy
Anita 'Bionic Knees' Fleming
Gillian 'Left, Right, Left, Right, Left' Marshall
Tracy 'Right, Left, Right, Left, Right' Austin Powers
Number of Lions: 9
Captains Lost: 1
Hats Stolen: 2
Taxis Caught: 1
Taxis Thrown out of: 3
Shopping Trolleys Utilized: 1
Random Bums beaten with paddle: Numerous
Croissants Eaten: 4,067 (They were 'Very delicious'*)
* Note: Potato Patwa.
Having made our bookings online at www.bigshowerofbastards.com. No, wait, sorry, I meant easyjet.com (That amendment will cost me £105). The lionessesseseses met at the airport at an hour normally reserved for milkmen and dirty stop outs. They were unfortunately already a lioness down, sadly without the skills and banter of Nurse Clarky. However, buoyed by overpriced coffee and breakfast assortments, they made their way through to the departure lounge. Upon arrival, their mentor/coach/jedi master, Terry, was shockingly unable to pass due to Billy Goat Gruff working at the gate. Now I'm no Carol Vorderman (and for that I am truly thankful) but if you have a month left on your passport and you're away for one weekend, in my calculations, using all my fingers, thumbs, toes, an abacus and counting beans from Guatemalan goat herders, that still leaves rather a large number of days left. Continental weekends are apparently 23 days long.
The (dedeldeldeldldeddleer) situation was made all the more infuriating as Tezza had previously spoken to a high functioning chimpanzee at customer services, who had assured her all was fine. The rest of the pack were able to pass through undisturbed by throwing bananas for distraction. Even Lizzy, with her shiny new passport from the Peoples Democratic Republic of Yorkshire.
Saddened and distraught at the loss of the mighty kiwi, the flight was marked with a respectful silence. Punctuated only by Anne-Marie asking if we were there yet, if she could use the toilet and singing 'Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes'.
Arrival at Paris was signified with much cultural sensitivity. If of course that was the sensitivity of a group of seven year olds on a school trip. A jolly around the major tourist sights, including the Arc De Triomphe, the Trifle Tower and the world famous toilets of the Louvre followed. As elite athletes, an early night was then had by all. Dr Wallbrick slept particularly well after some ovaltine and a bed time story.
Some of this gets a little hazy, mainly due to the cold and the rain....and that I wasn't asked to write this until the Tuesday after. I often have difficulty remembering my own name but it went something like this. Honest Guv'nor it did.
Lionesses v Shiny Sharks (France) 2-3
There is a slight possibility I missed the first half but in the second half our ladies did remarkably well. Anne-Marie and Lizzie scoring touchdowns. We lost but it was a moral victory, in the style of Rocky Balboa and Apollo Creed.
London Milky Way the sweet you can eat before meals without ruining your appetite Galaxy v Lionesses 0-3
Probably our best game of the tournament, a stirring display against the eventual tournament winners. Galaxy had to work hard against the spirited lionesses, who played with only two subs. The scoreline being a reflection of a game that was by no means one sided.
Lionesses v Luxembourg 7-0
Oooo la la, in the words of Bruce Forsyth, didn't they do well.
Now then, now then, now then (who let Jimmy Saville in here?), I am aware there were 4 more games after this. However, in my defence as rubbish correspondent, it was very, very cold and very, very rainy (did I mention this before?). And contrary to popular opinion I was not drinking tea and eating cake instead of taking score. That was during the warm up. I do however remember Maw being particularly pleased about playing the extra games and wearing other peoples clothes, a stroppy team from South Wales and Captain Lou nearly being sent off for excessive touch after previously getting lippy with the referee....and also Julie's fine vocal on the field organisational skills......I still have tinnitus from them....and I was on the sideline.
In summary, the ladies finished a highly respectable 8th in the final table. A fine all round performance that did the lions proud. Next time you see them I think you should buy them a drink to congratulate them. Go on, you know you want to.
Special Awards (not in a 'Mummy thinks you are' kind of way) go to:
MVP Julie Clark
MIP Anne-Marie Wallbrick
Bravo Ladies. Bravo one and all. Bravo You. Bravo Me. Warm glow in hearts all round.
And a big thanks to Stirling Posse, Gillian and Tracey, true honorary lions.
The rest of the weekend passed quietly.
But the Third Rule of Paris is..........
Here Endeth the Nonsense*.
*The above is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The moon is also made of cheese. Pigs can fly. How now brown cow.