We took Lucy to visit the site of Brian Chapman's Ultimate Humiliation a couple of weeks ago.
Yes - approximately a quarter of a century ago, at the end of a long Sunday morning training session, Brian Chapman tried to "put a shuffle on" and burst ahead of the trailing pack to impress two pensioners with poodles.
His knees clicking like chilly castanets, his nostrils flaring like jet intakes, Brian surged forwards into a sedate jog. Little did he know of the competitive urges of my Dad.
Before he knew it, Brian's shorts and smalls were round his knees; his lungs full of muddy water when he found himself face down in a puddle; his voluminous posterior the wobbling surface for a score of pairs of muddy trainers to paddle.
One day, I'll find the wall where my Dad rescued a sheep from the hole in the snow, only for the ungrateful beast to jump back in.
I heard Lucy count to 10 for the first time today. I wonder what she'll be up to by the time her 2nd birthday comes round :-)
Here are some pics of her raiding Fridge #3 for ice pops.
Well, today's race was a damn sight more interesting than any F1 race I can remember in the last decade or so.
And Our Nige won again :)
He's racing again on Sunday at 4pm on BBC2, against Prost, Fittipaldi, Patrese, Arnoux, and other past F1 drivers. Should be good.
Here are some links on the BBC web site:
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