Pub Crawl in Aid of Everest- 31st May 2008

After the initial team selection there was a pub crawl arranged to help celebrate the early stage of the trip being put in place. This is fantastically British. We are going to play cricket on a mountain to raise money for charity so naturally we all have to go and get hideously inebriated. I reckon even if we were raising money for 'AA', we would kick things off with a massive bender (apologies for the double meaning- if your visualising a huge bloke in a tight t-shirt waving a rainbow coloured hankie, you're very immature).

For the pub crawl we were all kitted out in cricket whites because we are an extremely professional outfit. There at one point was the suggestion that we took sport relief buckets out with us to cajole the general public into donating. I, however, think that a bloke with yak covered cricket whites, asking strangers for money in aid of a good cause might well be pushing the boundaries of public generosity towards charitable causes. You would be especially sceptical is you handed some sheckles to a man who one minute later starts downing a jug of lager whilst other men shout, 'down it you tool!'.

Obviously it was a great afternoon and no money was raised but it was a good way to meet other older team members who seemed to be on exactly the same wave length as me despite being a bit older. All the 6 year age gap between me and others meant is that there are some references to early 90s TV that they might not get. All of us, for example, appreciate how great a programme 'Saved by the Bell' was although none of them really have an opinion on the more recent 'City Guys', which as any 22 year old with access to the channel 'Trouble' as a youngster knows was a poor alternative to the Californian set children's sitcom.

Shabadoo joined later as he had been watching Wasps win the Premier League again and in doing so securing him a massive payout of £750 from some ridiculous accumulator bet he had done. He is genuinely the luckiest man in the world, I think he must have been blessed as a young bear. True fact about Joe: he has never dropped a piece of toast butter side down, I read it on Wikipedia so it must be factually accurate. By the time he arrive I was MC Hammered, groping some poor girl with the words 'I just love Penis' (it said a naughty version of this but i've been censored) written on my back and a drawing of a climactic penis next to it. Give a man a black pen, a white canvass and a few beers and there is one inevitable result- a doodled penis. By 11 I was so cut that me and Joe had to leave for the Casino. I didn't want to gamble; for some reason in my drunken mentality I decided that 'Golden Nugget Casino' was the most obviously place nearby to get some chicken wings.

We nearly didn't get in. Here is the conversation that occurred with the Golden Nugg staff.

"You're not allowed in wearing a track suit"

"technically mate, these are cricket whites"

"so?"

"they are much smarter than a track suit"

"OK...go in"

second guy behind the till leans in a makes the very valid point:

"some people might not appreciate whats written on your back"

"fair enough, I'll turn in inside out."

Somehow turning the penis ridden shirt inside out was enough to quell their concern and so I managed to get my chicken wings and be in bed by midnight.