Anyone remember the Worst Week of the Week award, awarded weekly, on a week by week basis? It was part of an ace Radio Two comedy prog. Well, I reckon this week I am a contender.
It all started Sunday, with a hangover…
Strike One.
A quarter of the way into a rugby game on Sunday, I got an almighty blow to the head and immediately hit the floor, with an egg sized lump rapidly growing on my bonce. Whoever hit me, did it pretty hard but I have a concrete skull so after 10mins of ice packing, I felt bullish and fine, so went back on to play. I later realised I had concussion when I got nausea and pins and needles in my face whilst at work the next day!
Strike Two.
When I went back on the pitch on Sunday, no sooner had I got the ball than I went on a little dash on the attack. It was going well, I’d beaten one defender and just had the full back to get round. My sidestep was planned but on execution – crunch! The old familiar battered knee re-emerged. Two years on from my grade 2 ACL tear, I am still getting gip. It was sore beyond belief and I had to hobble off, whilst cursing quite loudly in anger. That was the end of that game, and my knee’s not a great deal improved five days on, worst luck.
Strike Three.
Yesterday lunchtime whilst driving back to work, I had the misfortune of meeting Neanderthal man. Whilst going along a dual carriageway, a white van driver decided to cross the road over to an opposite slip road, and basically chuntered straight into my lane. I somehow managed to swerve round him but the back end of the car got scuffed. On exiting my car, in order to exchange details, the driver emerged as an angry Scotsman, fervently gesturing and shouting obscenities. I didn’t understand the offensive language until I’d asked him to repeat it, as he really had a broad accent.
Anyhoo, after trying to blame me, Neanderthal man got back in his van and drove off without giving me his details. I managed to get the license plate and when he parked up just a bit away from me I drove up again, stayed in my car (wasn’t sure if he’d get physically aggressive – yikes) and asked him again for his contact details. He begrudgingly gave me a name and business, but claimed he didn’t have a phone. So now we’re going through police, insurance and all sorts to try and get it sorted.
On the upside, I’ve had my three bad things happen now so surely my luck must be turning. But in the meantime, can anyone beat this for a rubbish week?
