Happy New Year Everyone! I wish you a successful and creative 2025!
As my Blog Day and The New Year approached, far too quickly
for me to think of anything sensible to say as usual, I wondered if I could produce any words of wisdom to impart to
spark off the new year and inspire you to even greater artistic achievements.
Realising I couldn't… I thought instead I’d share one of my
stories with you instead.
As I’d been born abroad and because my parents weren’t
interested in football, I was ignorant of the ‘beautiful game’ until I was ten
years old. When I finally came across it, I was entranced. One feature that embraced
the world of football that I loved was the reading of the results on
the telly at around 4.45 on a Saturday. I found the rhythm of the reporter’s
voice comforting in that it was soothingly predictable and yet slightly different each
week, like a narrative poem that was never quite the same. What absorbed me
most were some of the intriguing names of the teams. To a ten-year-old, they
didn’t sound like the logical names of football teams. ‘Wolverhampton Wanderers’.
Surely the last thing you want to do in a football match is just wander about? ‘Sheffield
Wednesday’. Why Wednesday? Why not Tuesday or Thursday, or more logically
Saturday? I couldn’t understand why Ham should need a geographical appellation,
or cooked meat be involved in the first place. It wasn’t until I was an adult
that I learned that the district of East Ham existed to counterbalance West
Ham. (Though do they have a football team?)
The Scottish team names were the most elaborate and gloriously
inexplicable though. ‘Heart of Midlothian’, ‘Queen of the South’. The former
sounds like the title of a traditional ballad, the latter the title of a
romantic historical novel. Is a ‘Partick thistle’ a particular variety of a
plant?
Anyhow, it was this love of the football results that inspired
this story. I hope you like it.
Unusual
Results. By Steve Way
The poor queen's nerves were strained to the limit so much of the time that some of her courtiers thought they might spring apart with a loud twang like an overtightened violin string, certainly she was beginning to look much older than her young age.
The delicate
gifts Queen Petunia and her husband King Popple received from other kings and
queens were all placed on top of the mantelpiece over the fire in the throne
room. There was only one problem. The mantelpiece was very old and frail. The
slightest knock could make it shake in an unpredictable way and one of the valuable
ornaments they had received from other kingdoms would fall off. Even a loud
noise, like a door banging in the distance, could get the mantelpiece shaking
and items falling.
Unfortunately,
because the king had eaten some magic jelly the wizard had made, which was
supposed to make him sing better but hadn’t, he was now suffering the
unfortunate side effects. The king had become too distracted to order the repair
of the mantelpiece or to realise that if one of their pieces of china broke it
would bring some disaster upon the kingdom. This was because all the gifts were
imbued with magic and if they were broken the magic would be released in very
unpredictable ways. Instead, because of the effect of the unfortunate jelly,
the king just sat on his throne all day making up football results or reading
them out once the Royal Newspaper arrived on Saturday evening.
You might think
that the queen could quite easily order the mantelpiece to be repaired. She
did. But unfortunately, the king and queen ruled a kingdom where the king and
the queen had to give the orders in duplicate. Normally that was a very
sensible arrangement because it was less likely that either of them could issue
a daft order because the other one would disagree with them. Now though it was
a problem because every time the queen commanded the chamberlain, "I order
the royal carpenters to repair that mantelpiece!" The king would say
something like, "Swindon Town 5 Manchester United 1,” which although very
sensible in its own way was no use to anybody now.
Every now and
then the queen would try giving the order again, in the desperate hope that the
king might say something sensible this time, but it never worked. He just responded
with another football result.
Once when the
cook had accidentally knocked over all the saucepans in the kitchen, which made
such a racket it shook the whole castle, the queen had had to do a dive halfway
across the throne room, like a goalkeeper, to catch a pottery figure before it
smashed on the floor.
"Well done,
your majesty!" cheered the chamberlain.
"That was
close!" replied the queen, not catching her breath.
"Preston
Town 4 Leeds United 0," said the king.
"When will
the side-effects of this blasted jelly of yours wear off?" the queen asked
the wizard.
"III-don't-know-your-maaajesty!"
the wizard sang in reply. For some
curious reason the jelly, which he’d eaten at the same time as the king, had
made him able to sing beautifully.
But now he could only sing and not speak. "III'mmm-wo-working-onnn-it! N-N-No-lu-luck-yeet."
"I can't
order the china to be put safely elsewhere because poor Popple wouldn’t order
that as well and I can't order a reward to be offered to cure the king because
he'd even have to agree to that order
too." wailed the queen. "I don't think I could stand it if another
thing breaks."
So far only two very small and relatively insignificant gifts had fallen off and broken. One had been a tiny thimble from the rulers of a very tiny kingdom who couldn't afford anything bigger. It had fallen off when a gust of wind had blown in when the chamberlain had opened the window to let some fresh air into the tense atmosphere of the throne room. As soon as it smashed, the magic the thimble released turned everyone’s ears purple and a kind of purply wax dripped out of them slowly all day, every day, from then on.
The other gift had been tiny pottery
hedgehog which had been a part of a set of hedgehogs that got increasingly
bigger, which had been presents from the rulers of the third kingdom on the
left past the nearest mountain, who happened to be hedgehogs. The pottery
present had fallen off when one of the pages who had a cold sneezed. It was
such a violent sneeze that it had set the mantelpiece rocking and the largest
hedgehog had moved and bumped into the next hedgehog and moved it and so on
down the line of neighbouring hedgehog figurines. As soon as the tiny
hedgehog's broken spikes shot off into a hundred different directions, all the
children under the age of five in the kingdom started thinking they were cows
and spent all day mooing and standing about in fields eating plants until their
fifth birthday.
"If those
two tiny ornaments contained enough magic to cause that much damage,” moaned
the queen as she wiped her ears for the twentieth time that morning. "Goodness
knows what would happen if one of the larger ornaments got smashed."
Just then the
chamberlain had an idea!
"It's a long
shot,” said the queen, after he’d explained it to her. "But it just might work…"
The queen and the
chamberlain made up some imaginary football results as though they were in a
newspaper, hoping that the king would read them out. Luckily, he read out their
fictitious results, as if he were reading from Saturday’s newspaper, as well as
continuing to make up his own results.
To begin with they’d used the
names of authentic football teams but gradually they’d introduced a few daft
words into the list, to see if he’d notice, which might mean that their plan
would work.
They were relieved and hopeful
when at one point the king read out these results,
"
Tranmere Rovers 2
Dirty Socks 6
Toilet Roll 4
Bristol City 1.”
As the king clearly
hadn’t noticed the daft words, in the next list they passed him they wrote this
“result” in between the others,
"Cure King 1
Reward Given 1."
"I also
order a reward to be given for the king to be cured!" declared the queen as soon as the king had
read out that “result” and so at last the pages were able to dash off around
the kingdom offering a reward for the curing the king.
Next the queen and the
chamberlain wrote,
"New Mantelpiece
4 The Fireplace 1."
"I also
order a new mantelpiece to be made for the fireplace!" commanded the queen
as soon as the king had read out this new “result” and so finally the royal
carpenters were able to start making a new mantelpiece in the royal
workshops.
Following that success, the queen
and the chamberlain wrote,
"Move
"I also
order the china to be moved to a safe place while the new mantelpiece is being
made!" ordered the queen. At last, the maids could carefully take the
china gifts off the rickety old mantelpiece and put them in a glass cupboard,
safely out of harm’s way until the new mantelpiece had been completed.
~~~
Two weeks later everything seemed a lot brighter, not only
because it was now a glorious summer. The queen looked a lot more relaxed and
standing on a gorgeously carved and constructed mantelpiece stood the china
gifts, all looking perfectly safe.
"Thank
goodness for that,” said the queen. "Things are so much better now."
"That's
right your majesty; you look so much better..." replied the chamberlain.
"Carlisle
United 1 Bolton Wanderers 1,” said the king.
"We do still
have one or two problems though..." the chamberlain pointed out.
"Yes, you're
right," agreed the queen wiping the purple wax from her ears for the
thirtieth time that morning. "Not one person has come forward to even try to cure the king and even that won't
solve the problem of these blasted purple ears... and are the poor children
still mooing?"
"I'm afraid
they are, your majesty,” replied the chamberlain.
The chamberlain
and the queen couldn't help looking at the wizard. The poor man had attempted
to invent two potions to rid the citizens of the kingdom of their productive
purple ears and to cure the children of their mooing. As you would expect, as a
safety precaution this round, he’d initially tried the ear potion out on
himself and the anti-mooing potion out on his four-year-old son. The wizard now
had two enormous ears that looked exactly like dartboards and his son was now
totally convinced that he was a piano and kept telling everyone that he needed
tuning.
"Any new
ideas, wizard?" asked the queen.
The wizard just
stood silently where he was, lost in his own inventive thoughts.
"He can't
hear with those ears, your majesty,” explained the chamberlain.
The queen wrote
"Any new ideas?" on a piece of paper instead, which she passed to the
wizard.
"I-I-I-mi-mi-ght-be-onn-t-t-to-somee-thinggg”
wrote the wizard. He even had to write as though he was singing.
"Hmmm,”
hmmed the queen and the chamberlain. Neither of them very sure whether it was a
good thing if the wizard thought he was onto something or not.
"Aston Villa
3 Nottingham Forest 2,” said the king.
Just then the
chamberlain had another brilliant idea.
Once again, the queen
was guardedly optimistic about the chamberlain’s plan and she and the
chamberlain began making up what looked like the sports pages of the newspaper.
Not only did the pretend pages include tables of football results, which the
kind read eagerly, they also created reports about other sports as well as
football, such as cricket and tennis, to make their work look more authentic.
Their reports had headlines like, "Wonderful Wilberforce gets ready for
Wimbledon” and "Amazing Abdul picked for England in the Test". The
king didn't read the reports - he only read out the football results of course
- but it seemed to the queen and the chamberlain as if he scanned the
headlines.
When they thought
he was ready they handed him another pretend sports page which had just one
enormous headline. It boldly declared "FOOTBALL SEASON OVER!"
The king gazed at the headline
for a few moments, then looked over to the queen and said, "Thank goodness
that's finished."
After that he was completely
normal again and couldn't believe he'd just spent over a month just making up
or reading out football scores. In fact, for years afterwards he would still ask
members of the court if he'd really done so. He thought it was some kind of
elaborate joke that everyone had played on him and that one day he'd get
someone to admit it, which of course he never did.
"Well
done!" said the queen to the
chamberlain.
"Yes... well
done... apparently...” said the king to the chamberlain, following on from his
wife’s cue, particularly after she’s pointed jabbed him pointedly in the ribs
with her elbow. "Ugh! What's all this..." continued the king as he
wiped some thick purple wax from his ear. While he'd been ill, or confused, or
whatever he was, one of the courtiers had regularly wiped his ears with a cloth
for him.
The queen and the
chamberlain explained the two problems that still faced the people in the
kingdom. Just as they'd finished explaining the problems... you've guessed
it... the chamberlain had yet another
brilliant idea.
It turned out
that the chamberlain’s idea was a way of turning the disadvantages the people
of the kingdom were suffering into advantages until the wizard finally invented
a potion that removed them. The chamberlain suggested that everyone wear
special earrings shaped like tiny buckets, which collected the purple wax as it
dribbled out of peoples’ ears during the day. The wax was then collected to
make candles to light everyone’s houses at night and so the kingdom saved a
fortune in electricity.
As all the children under five
years old were standing about in fields mooing all day, the chamberlain pointed
out that it was impossible for them to get lost, something under-fives are
usually really good at doing, particularly when in large crowds or shops
and especially at the worst and most worrying moments. Also, as they all
thought they were cows it was no problem getting the children to eat their
greens, something many children are notoriously resistant to doing, despite all
the incredible benefits. When the children were finally five and stopped
thinking they were cows, at least they were safe and very healthy, even though
they couldn't read. Interestingly, it
turned out because they'd eaten so healthily in their first five years the
children learned to read really quickly plus all the children claimed they'd
had great fun being cows all day, outside in the fresh air.
Eventually the
wizard did find an antidote to the purple wax-producing ears and the
cow-children and finally he got his normal ears back and his son stopped
thinking he was a piano, though he refused to play one ever after.
THE END.
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