Kens Trip and success at the Racketlon in Prague 

By kind permission of the man Himself

Here are my thoughts on my trip to Prague:

Sandra dropped me at the South Terminal Gatwick for my trip to Prague to play in my first Racketlon tournament. After a kiss and cuddle goodbye Sandra burst into tears. 'You're away on your own for the weekend' she blurted. With her hands across her face I'm still not sure whether she was crying or laughing but it was true, I was on my own for the first time I can remember for ages. It was strange asking for a table for one at Garfunkels, we always think of tables for one being for saddos. And before anyone comments....

I boarded the plane dreaming Debbie Harrie sitting next to me. However, a rather plump middle age couple were deep in conversation and barely acknowledged me as I took my seat. 'The wedding was lovely' she chirped. 'It was a pity that it ended on such a sour note' he added. This rather intrigued me and I thought at some point I could get into the conversation. Until, after a few more comments when I realized they were actually talking about Ken and Deidre bleedin' Barlow. I immediately shut my eyes and pretended to be asleep. The rest of the flight passed quickly and we arrived in Prague to a thunderous round of applause from grateful passengers.

Once through customs I hired a taxi, after showing the driver where I wanted to go, we took off. Literally. The force of the take off pinned me back in my seat. Weaving in and out, changing lanes as soon as there was a gap, foot to the floor at all times, turning off the motorway a metre before the turning. This is how every one drives in Prague. Once again I shut my eyes. It took about half an hour to reach the hotel and in this time the doubts began to set in. Am I going to make a prat of myself. Now as most of you would say ' you don't have to go to Prague to make a prat of yourself' but the doubts were there. Once at the hotel I quickly booked in and unpacked. A basic 4 star hotel and to my relief the tournament was approximately 30m away from my room.

I made my way to the registration desk and signed in. I was then introduced to a number of people and told that my first match would be on Saturday morning at 10.30. For those not up on racketlon the format is that you play your opponent Table Tennis, Squash, Badminton and Tennis. Each game is to 21. 2 Alternate serves. American scoring. As you can imagine with over 120 competitors the tournament had to run like clockwork and it did.

That afternoon the doubles competition were played. It gave me a chance to see how things worked and take in the atmosphere. My first call was to the Table Tennis, as this is by far my worst event. As I entered the hall my heart sunk and my mind back to the taxi. ' YOU ARE going to make a prat of yourself' There they were Clickety Clack Clickety Clack the ball whizzed from one side of the table to the other at break neck speed Clickety Clack Clickety Clack were they ever going to miss. Perhaps I could feign injury by somehow getting a ball in the eye on the first point. With my confidence now at zero minus one I went for a coffee and to see what the squash was like. This was much more encouraging and things were beginning to look even better when I took a look at the badminton ( my best event). And the tennis, well OK not too bad.

After soaking up the atmosphere I decided to have an early night and did this after having a meal at a table for one at the hotel.

The next morning I was rearing to go. On checking the sheet I found I was playing an Austrian the number 5 seed World Rank 11. My heart started to pump as my name came over the tannoy. Straight on to the Table Tennis. Slaughtered.21-9 A poor performance where I think I only managed to return two serves Pathetic. Won the squash 21-9 Badminton Won 21-12 which meant that I needed 14 points in the tennis. This was accomplished easily with the score being 14-4 in my favor Great Start and through to the next round. After the expected poor start in table tennis I sailed through the rest of the games to find myself in the quarter finals.

By this time I had made friends with the number one seed Ulf from Sweden. A research chemist and not carrying an ounce of fat. Yes he had the brains and the body but not the looks. We agreed to go to Prague in the afternoon before our quarter finals. Another breakneck journey into town and a search for somewhere to eat. I have to say asking for a table for two was a relief. A superb meal by the river followed by an hours sightseeing (more than enough for me) and then back to the hotel at lightening speed.

Now for the quarter final. Usual rubbish start but going into the Tennis I had pulled it back to only two points down. This meant that whoever won the tennis was through to the semis. The game never had more than the odd point in it but it finally went against me 21-19. Two points. Two bloody points. Just two points. Will I ever get over it?

That evening there was a players dinner and although the meal was crap, the service miserable, I had an enjoyable evening with some new found friends. I was now relaxing.

I finally went to bed around midnight. I was tired physically but mentally I was still playing. That table tennis ball hitting the edge, another sixteenth of an inch and it would have been my point, that sitter I missed at the net, was that serve really out, on and on and on every point every game Oh the agony. I must have drifted off eventually. I woke up and attempted to get up. Oh dear Everything had stiffened up. I was beginning to feel OK about not playing today. I felt exhausted.

I hobbled up to breakfast and then along to watch the semis. Now I had a chance to observe. I love watching peoples reactions to stress and a couple of the displays here are worth a mention. One particular German player stood out in the way that his outburst was the longest I ever heard. The following tirade was preceded by a gradual snorting and grinding of teeth until he could stand it no longer - ' Schiten sie du bist un focking dumkopf bladin fockin ball titsenhalten stuffen sie mit einer grossen frankfurter up sie holen en eins baken passage fur sie ist bleden klein leiber dick und sie mussen haben dur hand kuten sie offen'or words to that effect, followed by a final Kommen Sie. This was carried out at full volume and veins standing out like frogs eyes . It does make my 'Can you believe that ' sound a bit WI. I know it sounds cruel but we eagerly anticipated the next error. Very nice chap off court though.

Another younger lad of 16/17 probably German, who wouldn't have looked out of place in the Kings College Choir really does need to find a less stressful sport. Even the most minor error was simultaneously followed by the racket hitting the floor and a scream of foooooooooooooock. The glass back was then treated to three fore arm smashes on the trot. Bang Bang Bang Fortunately all given with the full weight of about six and a half stone. Well tickle my arse with a feather. They'd have given him a good slap in my day.

Some of the play was outstanding and it was obvious that some players were highly talented in one particular sport and more than proficient in the other three. The fitness levels of the Elite players was well up to professional standards. It was very interesting to see the games ebb and flow with the different disciplines. Great Stuff.

My time for leaving now rapidly approached but not before I saw my new friend Ulf deservedly win the tournament. Solid in all events and fit as a flea. He was a worthy Champion. I said my goodbyes and had the usual supersonic trip to the airport. My companions on the flight back were clones of the ones on the way out. They were having a heated discussion about who Jane Goody ? was with, needless to say I shut my eyes and drifted away. Another thunderous round of applause informed me I was back home.

And my abiding memory of Prague - Those two points Yes those two bloody points Two poxy points