Mr B appears to have become a soothsayer overnight. I can just imagine you pursing your lips in disbelief. But, wait till you have heard the full story…
Yesterday we invited two friends over to watch the footie. Spurs (Mr B’s team) was playing Liverpool. Please don’t worry if you are not a footie fan that the Daily Blog is about to become a kind of Sports Report.
You know me better than that.
Our friends, Sue and John, are also fervent Spurs supporters, possibly even more so than Mr B in that they have seats at Wembley
Stadium for Home matches. I think I am correct in saying they even bought one of the old seats at White Hart Lane before that hallowed ground (Mr B’s description) was torn down to make way for a Glorious New Dawn (guess who said that? No, ‘twasn’t
me, though I did find it in myself to make appropriately empathetic noises. I don’t want Mr B saying that you can’t get the wives nowadays.) I thank my lucky stars that Mr B didn’t know about the Selling Off Of Seats because he would almost
certainly have wanted one and, as regular readers know, our living room already resembles a furniture warehouse on account of the number of chairs (dining, easy, sofa and - the latest addition - riser/recliner) we need to accommodate.
As you also know, I have several friends called Sue, including Sue who decorated my rooms, runs up my curtains on her super-duper industrial sewing machine, teaches me how to make bunting and oven gloves and, for good measure,
cuts my hair. Then there’s Sue 1 from Choir and Sue 2 (aka Chatty Sue) from Choir and Birdy-Group. The Sue who came to watch the footie I call Spurs Sue, in order to differentiate her, in Mr B’s head, from all the other Sues he hears me talk about.
Spurs Sue and her husband arrived at 4.15, bearing bottles of beer and looking chilly and windswept from a bracing walk on the Downs. Fortunately our house, as per normal,
was about as hot as a tropical greenhouse so they soon warmed up. Passions were also running high as Liverpool took an early lead. Mr B, the Soothsayer, sat regally and unconcerned in his armchair, and declared we were not to worry because he just had a feeling
that Spurs were going to score from a penalty. Asked on what basis he had made this prediction, he declined to answer. Spurs went in one-nil down at half-time so we all assumed Mr B had been possessed by a Flight of Fancy.
Into the second half and Mr B announces: “Wanyama!” I, being unversed in such matters as Team Selection, thought he had said: “Manãna” which I loosely interpreted to
mean that tomorrow was another day. I felt (though I did not dare voice my thoughts) that this was a trifle defeatist from one who is generally so Stalwart in Support. It turned out, however, that Wanyama was a person - what’s more, when he did eventually
appear on the pitch, he scored the best goal of the match. Mr B the Soothsayer accepted our congratulations on his prescience.
After that, as you can imagine,
we thought maybe, just maybe, he might be right about scoring from the penalty spot. So we weren’t totally surprised when Spurs was awarded a penalty and Harry Kane took up his position facing the opposition goalie. Except that our Soothsayer Extraordinaire
was only half right. Harry Kane, inexplicably, missed. Ah, well, we comforted Mr B, he couldn’t expect to get it right every time. It looked horribly as if Spurs would be the losers.
At which point - another penalty. Mr Kane on the spot again. And this time the ball in the back of the net. Mr B smiled enigmatically, as if he’d known this would happen all along. From henceforth I think he should be known as
Mr “Crystal” Ball.