Oh, I really am the worst at organising things. To be fair, it’s everybody else’s fault. Trying to get my mates together is like herding cats.
I used to have to do this on a weekly basis when organising 10 men for five-a-side football. What a palaver.
Some wouldn’t reply to emails. Some pulled out at the last minute. Some wanted to bring other folk.
It’s not rocket science…
I don’t want to blind you with science, but the important thing about five-a-sides is that there are five players on each side.
Five against four was never good. Four against four was too roomy. Six against six was too crowded. It had to be just right.
The latest organisational imbroglio is also footer-related, involving longstanding buddies of mine with whom I used to attend games when I lived in heap-big city.
Anticipating a trip to said metropolis, with a match at the end of the week, I suggested meeting for a pre-match meal in a favourite restaurant of ours five minutes’ walk from the stadium.
Choices, that’s the problem
Unfortunately, the mistake I made this time was offering options. Maybe they’d rather just go for a pint first?
Or maybe, since some might not be able (or willing, given recent performances) to make the game, we could meet for lunch through the week, like last time I was down, when a fab time was had.
Or – jeez, give it a rest, Rab – we could meet for lunch through the week AND have a pint before the game on the Saturday.
My friends, as you might imagine, are important men of affairs, with shopping to do. So, I should have been firmer or more definite.
They don’t make it easy
I should have said we are going for a meal before the game, like it or not.
On top of this, I’ve half a dozen other pals, male and female, to see through the week, plus work to do (no rest for the freelance).
I end up thinking: ‘Right, E. is free on Monday and Friday, but definitely not Wednesday, and A. can’t make Wednesday but can Friday. And F. is good for Tues and Friday but not Wednesday.
And … it’s beginning to look like Wednesday is out. And Friday’s over-subscribed.’
Once, many years ago, I just gathered everybody together for one night out in the pub, and we had a ball.
Friends in the big city
But now I’ve different groups of friends, who don’t know each other and, besides, I like to see folk more intimately. We have much to talk about regarding our lives and football generally.
The funny thing about returning to the city from the sticks is that you see your friends more than when you lived there.
Last time I was down, I met a mate three times in a week. When I’d lived there, I hadn’t seen him in three years.
It’s because folk make the effort when you’re there for a finite time.
At the time of writing, I’m no further forward, and beginning to think I should have just played it by ear.
But playing it by ear can put people’s noses out of joint, and I don’t want to end up with egg on my face.
That’s if we decide on a meal rather than just a pint.
