This was the penultimate weekend of my first term at University. As a consequence, the Mater and Pater were up to collect my stuff so that I could catch the train home next weekend.
There’s no mention of my having upset my Mum this time, so that’s a relief. Around their visit, I was popping in and out of the common room to watch Arsenal play Liverpool for the fourth time in about a month. Again, things were tight and the teams could not be separated. This time John Barnes’s sublime opening goal was cancelled out by an Alan Smith effort with twenty minutes remaining.
As we lurched towards the end of term, alcohol fuelled ‘revelry’ became the norm.
However, for one of our number things got a little out of control. A Scottish friend of ours, studying a science subject, had been on the lash for far too long, had drunk far too much and was far too immature to know how to behave properly. Truth be told it could have been any one of us, so I’m not having a go at him per se. Fact is we were all w*nkers.
Anyway, the upshot of all this nonsense was that asked by one of the University porters to tone down his high jinks, our friend decided that he didn’t want to tone anything down and finished on his arse after taking a swing at said porter, who promptly returned the compliment and ended the discussion.
The last day of term.
Just a quiet night in then as three of us watched a Burt Reynolds film. Probably sensible after last night’s shenanigans and with trains to catch tomorrow.
I came home on the train this morning and was met at the station by my Dad and my brother.
In town, on the way back to the car we bumped into a lad I had known at Sixth Form. Yes, I was as underwhelmed at the fact then as you are at reading it now. Sorry.
A game at Anfield, and I didn’t attend. That’s rolling the clock back a few weeks…
Anyway, it finished a another 1-1 draw with Ray Houghton and Wayne Clarke the scorers.
Oh, and Happy Birthday Dad.
Today was my birthday, my nineteenth in fact.
Did I enjoy myself, out on the razz with my mates…? Well I doubt that, my dairy entry stating that it was
the worst B’day I’ve ever had!
I’m guessing that I was bemoaning the fact that I was at home, away from my new University friends. I had not enjoyed my two years at Sixth Form and this was a return to that particular status quo… or so I felt.
If I had wanted to go out and get potted, I could easy have picked up the phone and said to someone, ‘Hey, guess what…’ But I didn’t, so whose problem was that?
Perhaps the people that I did call friends from Sixth Form hadn’t finished their University terms until later?
Well, possibly. I was out on the lash tonight – I only recorded one particular individual with whom I was drinking, but I did see a few other people – I recorded their names for posterity.
These were people that I had tried, in vain, to hang about with at Sixth Form, so perhaps it was no surprise for me to have recorded that I ‘saw’ them rather than ‘went out’ with them.
Slept. (Must’ve been a good night last night.)
Oh, and Liverpool lost yesterday. Doh!
Went out this evening, with my Dad and brother. We travelled out into the sticks for a few scoops.
Fair play to the old chap, for here we were, Christmas Eve, and he was chauffeuring his two sons! I know this to be a fact as a) I had passed my test and my brother hadn’t and b) I recorded that I had ‘got pissed up.’ So there.
In other news, as we were stood at one particular bar, we were joined by Mum’s cousin and his wife. Nothing so unusual there, except for the fact that they lived in Canada!
Last entry of the year – Liverpool won at Derby with an Ian Rush goal.