A Strictly Stressful Saturday!

I have come to a conclusion - Life is undeniably stressful on a continual basis, in otherwards all of the time!
Everybody is stressed 24/7, and the pressure to be successful is forever unforgiving!
Why is there so much emphasis on bringing home such a substantial slice of the bacon?
Is it in order to pay for.......the nanny, the chef, the housekeeper, the gardener, holidays to exotic far away destinations, the flash motor or two, the country retreat in Berkshire and the chalet in Verbier?

All for what? In a penny-pinching attempt to keep up with the Joneses.

That is of course in between the winter showers, the freezing days and nights, and all of the seven hours of daylight we get at this time of year!
Nobody has any spare time!
(Nobody has any manners! That is a whole subject in itself, but I'm not going down that road now, perhaps a topic for discussion at a later date).

Monday to Friday is habitually monotonous - up, work, home, eat, bed.....roll on the next day!

After a painfully busy first week in a new job that incorporated the standard 'virgin new boy' artificial pleasantries and introductions that accompany any new vocation, namely 'this is the coffee machine,' 'that's the bog,' 'meet the team' and the added bonus of 'we don't talk social topics of conversation to our fellow colleagues during office hours, irrespective of your persona.'

The reason, because these people are all so damm self-righteous, they live to work and do so assiduously, in between kissing the Company's backside.
All very noble......I think not!

Then only a few days into my first week the opening test of my own persona was bestowed upon me - 'The Xmas Work Bash' on Thursday evening, (where I must have known all of 3 people).
It was so appalling that I might just need counselling if I am ever to contemplate attending another one by choice!

Think Boy George meets the Spice Girls and allow a bunch of inebriated suits the opportunity to shrill, screech and whine away with the aid of a geriatric karaoke machine. Throw in some sesame toast and spring rolls smothered in acidic red ketchup, and wash it down with the poison of choice, tawdry vino and warm beer. All this on a dancefloor covered in rancid vomit.

Visualise, and the words cheap and nasty spring to mind!

And then to have to go into the office the next morning (Friday) pretending you enjoyed yourself and then finding yourself with no option but to agree with people you have never spoken to before (let alone know their names) that it was without a shadow of doubt the best soiree of the year - better than any Hollywood showbiz shin dig of the modern era.
Yawn!

The euphoria I felt as the clocked ticked around to 5.30pm on Friday was short lived for by the time I rocked up at home I felt too dog-tired to go out socially, and with the usual chores to do before footy on Saturday praying on my mind I decided on a relatively early night, so I could wake up fresh as a daisy in the morning and raring to go!

But I overslept on Saturday and time was against me. I looked at my 'to do' list, attempted to prioritize my chores and off I went with purpose.....initially.

First stop, the barbers, but inevitably on a Saturday there is a queue, not a substantial one, but a wait of sorts. As I leave I look at my watch and the pressure is on. I'm running late now.
The wait combined with not getting up as early as I had intended meant I had no time to do anything else.
I was due to meet the boys in a pub in South Norwood before the game at about 1pm for a bevy, and to watch our South London rivals, the Addicks hopefully get tonked by the Albion in the lunchtime kick-off on Sky.

The combination of heavy Xmas traffic and the propensity of public transport to let you down ( particularly it seems when you require it most) added to the frustration, and meant I arrived later than planned at the pub and as a result was faced with a heaving, dogged throng of like minded fans all wanting the same thing - beer!

To the match. 1-0 down early on to the Yorkies of Wednesday and the day was already spiraling inordinately downhill at rollercoater pace.
Wednesday fans are giving us plenty of stick but then we get an equalizer and a bit of respite.
In the 2nd half the tension mounts, the opposition graze the woodwork twice and Speroni dives full length to tip one over the bar - are we heading for a first defeat in eight games.....and thus spending the evening looking pitifully into the bottom of our post match beer glass for an answer?
No, because 17 yr old Sean Scannell comes to the rescue and gets the Eagles' winning goal a minute from time, with a sublime chip.

We breathe a huge sigh of relief, combined with a slight sense of 'we got out of jail' & then the inevitable elation that accompanies any positive result.
Off back to the pub to meet the boys again, one of whom has just become a father for the first time.
Who needs an excuse but we had one......lets paint the town red (& blue).

We leave sumptuous South Norwood about 7pm and headed at pace for the salubrious surroundings of The London Borough of Bromley.
Anyway three of us did, as we hailed a taxi to take us to one of our regular haunts.

Ten minutes later we were inside and comfortably perched at the bar.
We sank a few more pints, nailed some shots, toasted baby Alice umpteen times and then proceeded to get thrown out!
Ok so we were a little the worse for wear, but we were behaving, our language was clean and we were generally minding our own business.
It wasn't like we were manhandling the ladies, nicking other peoples drinks or riding unicycles through the bar whilst fire-eating.

Anyway there we are standing on the pavement outside scratching our heads - did we really get chucked out and if so why?
So I walked up to the entrance ushered to one of the meatheads on the door, who was then immediately joined by a fellow meathead and said in basic Anglo-Saxon English, 'Why did u throw us all out?'
I then said relatively calmly, 'my pal has just become a father and we were wetting the baby's head.'
He tells me my pal was asleep on the bar. 'No I said he did at one stage have his hands against his ears and elbows on the bar, but he wasn't asleep and so what?'

Feeling a little peeved and forlorn the three of us dejectedly trudged away shaking our heads in disbelief at the turn of events!

My pals and I on the odd occasion used to get thrown out of bars when we were in our teens & twenties, not in our forties!
So financially light and brassed off we headed our separate ways home and it was still only 10.30pm or thereabouts!

What a farce?

You go out to enjoy yourself, you're not bothering anyone, you're relaxing in good company and the above happens.

As I made my way home I considered my day.......then I reflected on all the stress, strain, tension, frustration, conflict, hassle, pressure and anxiety that had multiplied itself throughout the day.
It was a Saturday, no work, the opportunity to socialise with friends, watch footy, have a beer, and generally unwind.
The CHANCE to enjoy yourself away from the Monday to Friday rat race. FAT CHANCE!

As I neared my front door, Sunday was almost upon me, and I had calculated that there were only nine shopping days remaining until Xmas and I hadn't yet sent a card, let alone bought any presents!

Ok I'm a guy and we don't multi-task (according to women & scientists that is) and ok maybe, and perhaps in some people's eyes I had got my priorities wrong.
Maybe I should have forgone my real passion on a Saturday - not going to footy and meeting up with my pals, and instead gone Xmas shopping with the rest of the planet. But no I work all week, get up at 5.30 each morning, am I not supposed to use my weekends to do things I don't normally get to do in the week like socialize (work get-togethers definitely do NOT count).

With all the pressure and stress of my own weekend up to thus point, which had not included anything along the lines of shopping, household chores, or preparing for Xmas etc, I think work MIGHT in fact be more conducive to normality than one realizes!

Its predictable, admittedly dull, sometimes repetitive, but you know where you stand, what to expect, what time you start and finish, and of course it pays the bills......like next year's season ticket!

Anyway I'll be there next Saturday, at football that is, not doing chores or Xmas shopping!

Fashionably Fed-Up!

On a busy commuter train home from London the other evening I overheard a fascinating conversation between two middle-aged guys.
One was telling the other how he had been out in a bar the previous evening, and an attractive vivacious woman he had never met before came up to him completely out of the blue and openly asked him if he was a Londoner.
Before he could answer she said, "You must be, you look fed-up."

People pre-suppose the hypothesis that smiling is good for you because it makes you appear more attractive!
I suppose it is probably safe to say smiling temporarily relieves stress, and by smiling it in turn raises the cheekbones and reduces that wrinkled effect on the face that tends to be associated with a puckered brow.

I presume the logic behind this theory emanates from the hip, sun soaked, well chiselled plastic fantastic inhabitants of Cali-for-ni-a, who have never done the 'commuting lark' on a daily basis!

Some of the world's so called most attractive men are a bunch of cantankerous morose individuals.
Take actors Clive Owen and Colin Firth, or ex-Chelsea boss Jose Mourinho. They all have contorted faces that ooze pain and anguish, as if they are required to help solve or ease the issues of third world debt!

Some of the world's most gorgeous or lusted after women have or have had partners with visibly grumpy faces.
Look no further than Madonna's hubby Guy Richie or Kate Moss's ex squeeze Pete Doherty and her latest flame James Hince. All of them sour faced and glum looking.

So perhaps smiling is 'overrated.'

If you go to a bar in London and stand there looking bored, at best irritated you become the 'object of desire' - sophisticated, powerful with an air of supremacy.
It has almost become acceptable to display an aloofness towards someone who has caught your eye by pretending not to notice them or by ignoring them. A form of reverse psychology.

Perhaps 'rejection is fast becoming an aphrodisiac'

So if your keen look mean!

Now I don't smile a great deal myself and I know this for a fact because for years it has been remarked upon, although more often than not it has been done so in a polite manner rather than a vulgar or critical one.

So after hearing this two-way conversation on the chuffer, on my arrival home I immediately headed straight for the bathroom.
I turned on the light switch above my shaving mirror rather than the main one.
I feel it works as a safety net mechanism by diluting the intensity of what the main light might reveal.
However I still couldn't hide from my reflection. I was indeed looking awful - gaunt, haggard, drawn, ghost like, macabre!

Yes I WAS definitely looking at the 'epitome of a native Londoner.'

Crystress Palace F.C

I am on the cusp of re-newing my C.P.F.C season ticket for 2007-08 when I read in the 'South London Press' that in doing so I am committing myself to another season of trauma, anxiety and nervous tension. Why you ask?
Well I will tell you exactly why!
It has been announced that my beloved Crystal Palace are 'officially' the 11th (eleventh) most stressful club to be a supporter of out of the 92 (ninety-two) in the Football League.
Do I need this? Is not life stressful enough? Why am I adding to my already hectic and taxing life........at some financial cost too I might add?
Stress does not come cheap!

Although I had no reason to doubt the accuracy of the report in question, believe me being a Palace fan is a serious rollercoaster of a ride I felt a curiosity, a desire, call it what you will, to investigate this in a little more depth.

Where or how did the statisticians come up with their findings?
Did they go out to Croydon Town Centre one rainy afternoon, hoodwink a group of pensioners in a Supermarket and fire off half a dozen questions at them, to which they responded by saying yes 11 was their lucky number, they lived at number 11, they had 11 grandchildren, shopping was their 11th least favourite chore, and they got on the number 11 bus to come to Croydon in the first place!
All this culminating into making Palace the eleventh most stressful Club to support!
I doubt it. Hardly very scientific, plainly inaccurate, and obviously a distinctly unlikely method of canvassing a straw pole, unless it is for political reasons of course.

Statisticians at Littlewoods Football Pools have compiled a 'Stress League' dossier by analysing the histories - both on and off the pitch, of each of the 92 football league clubs, in order to determine which teams have caused their fans the most stress and anxiety over the last 25 years.

The criteria under which the club-by-club analysis has been conducted was based on initial research amongst football supporters, who were asked to identify which factors caused them anxiety/nervousness when following their team's fortunes.

Among the key 'stress factors' named by fans were:

The 'yo-yo effect', i.e regular movement between divisions/leagues due to promotions and relegations.
Narrowly missing out on promotion and/or relegation.
Failing to win at home.
Losing matches from a winning position.
Losing in play-offs, particularly finals.
Being involved in penalty shoot-outs, and cup ties which go into extra-time
Financial problems at the club, leading to uncertainty over its future and a detrimental effect on team performances.
Changes in club ownership.
Frequent changes of manager.

Enter Crystal Palace Football Club.

Long-standing Palace fans won't like it, but historically Selhurst Park is one of the easiest grounds for visiting teams to get a result. Not winning at home is a sure-fire cause of stress for fans, but then so are relegation fights and play-off finals, and Palace have had their fair share of those in recent times.

In the last 25 years Palace have been promoted to the top flight on four occasions and relegated the same number of times. Two promotions to the Premiership, in 1997 and 2004, both came via the play-offs (after finishing sixth each time). They have also missed out on promotion through the play-offs twice, most recently last season when they lost in the Championship play-off semi-finals.
In 2001, Palace came unbelievably close to relegation to Division Two.

In the FA Cup, Palace have won only five matches in the past 11 seasons. However in 1990 they were only seven minutes away from Cup Final glory before Mark Hughes scored an equaliser to not only salvage his team a replay, but in doing so he also salvaged Alex Ferguson's career at Man.Utd. United went on to win the replay, Ferguson won his first trophy as United boss and as they say in football......the rest is history!
To put the icing on the cake, who can forget 1999 when the club fell into administration under chairman Mark Goldberg.

Doctors are overworked at the best of times, but those in South London must be at breaking point if their surgery's are full of 'Palace Patients' with their clenched buttock cheeks and dodgy tickers, as they wait in line for their all too regular blood pressure tests!

As par for the course I felt it only fair-minded and even-handed to share with my fellow long suffering Palace fans some of the other results of my research.
To begin with Liverpool came out smelling of roses, as the least stressful club to support in the Country, Notts County the most stressful club to support, and are 'bosom buddies,' Brighton, Charlton and Millwall the 34th, 42nd and 45th most stressful respectively.

All said and done I would NOT change my allegiance to my club for the world.
Through their ups and downs they will always make me feel 'Glad All Over.'

My season ticket for next year was bought and paid for shortly after I wrote this article!