A good gaming session spoiled

Golf (1986)

Obviously, since I’m as near to 30 years old as makes no difference, the chances of me becoming any kind of pro sportsman these days are a bit remote, to say the least. That doesn’t mean I can’t drift off into some kind of fantasy world on occasion however, like we all do.

I’m talking about the kind of fantasy where I ask myself those kinds of questions that lead on into a fun, artificially constructed second life until somebody, usually the missus, notices that I’m starting off into space. I’ll be sat there, drooling and everything, all absentminded, and she’ll ask me what’s wrong. I’ll tell you what’s wrong shall I, I was just crowned Super Lazarus Sportsman Personality of the Year and you’ve put me right off my internal acceptance speech.

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If Kirby was my caddy, I would have won The Masters

Kirby's_Dream_Course_logo

Kirby’s Dream Course (1995)

I know you all have me down as a sporting God, given my prowess at football, cricket, hurling, curling and karting. Unfortunately, if we want to get into specifics, I’m actually an expert at football hooliganism, eating sandwiches and having drinks during the cricket breaks, threatening pensioners with hurleys, curling my lip in snobbish arrogance when I put one over the lower classes, and karting dozens of cans of beer around the supermarket before buying them for a pittance.

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