PEARLS FROM THE THE PLUMB

22nd December 2011

EDITION FOUR: THE TWENTY-THIRD CHAMPIONSHIP REVIEW!

The big day finally arrives, like Christmas, or going on holiday, only about a million times less…

The alarm went off dragging me from my slumber and I got myself ready for the day at hand while Mrs The Plumb did the same. Then at the agreed time, Pablo Mortez, Pablo’s girl, and Goatman arrived at chez The Plumb. Mrs The Plumb and Pablo’s girl would entertain themselves for the day with such delights as the East Midlands Designer Outlet, while the three of us set off to do battle. A short car journey later and we arrived at the arena. The much discussed Bramcote Memorial Hall was deserted, with only 15 mins to go to the start of the event. The only other combatant in attendance was the newbie Bell Bower (someone I work with incidentally.)

Pablo Mortez and Goatman decided to nip to the local shop to get some food and wandered off following directions on a mobile phone; my God, why did I let them do that?? While I was getting tables and chairs out and ready and Bell Bower was happily doing nothing, the event co-ordinators finally arrived with boxes of wires, black plastic and really bad television sets, as it would be wrong to expose the glory of the Mega Drive to a flat screen LCD TV.

Once the stage was set and laden with trophies, it was time to begin, but for one small problem. Pablo Mortez and Goatman still had not returned from their voyage. The whole thing was now in jeopardy, as I frantically tried to contact them, which necessitated a call to Mrs The Plumb, gaining a phone number from Pablo’s Girl, then going straight to voicemail.

Then they arrived and things could get started.

It was a nice sunny day and the temperature in the hall soared as games such as European Club Soccer and Alan Storm were pounded in the early rounds of the cup.

As usual the administration of the event left very little to be desired, and at one point in the cup we were left with the embarrassing situation of there being an extra person. The last game of the round to be played was Micro Machines and, luckily, this game includes the genius of two controller ports on the cartridge itself [Known as a J-Cart - Admin], facilitating up to 4-players. It was decided that a three way ménage a trios of pain would ensue, and we all paid witness to Bell Bower, Earl Holbrook and Commander Graham become the world’s first Sega centipede.

The day dragged on, as it invariably does. I won some games, lost some games, failed once again on Sonic, then The Challenge arrived. The beauty of this challenge was something to beholden. World Cup Italia '90 teams drawn from a hat for each player, then a knockout draw was applied. I was lucky, as I was awarded a first round bye and the use of Brazil. The games kicked off, the rules being that the first to three would win, the half-time leader would win and, in the second half, the next goal wins. The action across the 3 machines was frantic and soon competitors were dropping from the tournament like flies, with a couple of big name scalps being taken. Into the second round and the action showed no signs of slowing down, as I continued to annoy the rest of the participants by doing my sports centre bit and commenting on all three games at once. Finally I was thrust into action, and, having had a warm-up game earlier in the day in league action, the time was now, as I eased by Doc Shakib, then it was semi-final time. Those now eliminated drifted away from the game area in boredom, but Don Derek and myself hauled ourselves into the final, and Poland Vs Brazil, where there is only going to be one winner, and it isn’t the shiny car wash. Sorry Derek.

So the challenge was complete and it was back to the tedium of the league fixtures, once again my inconsistency cost me dearly, but personally I feel that a 4th place finish and retention of my first division status for the second year running is acceptable. I’m more of a cup guy anyway, like the late Sir Brian Clough [Former football manager who was never actually knighted, not that it matters, we give ourselves all sorts of weird and wonderful titles for tournamental purposes - Admin]. In the end, a big congratulations to Doc Shakib, I’d like to think I contributed by taking away from Derek’s goal difference… Next time out Professor King and Lieutenant Gareth will join us in the top flight, which will only serve to make things more difficult.

Anyway, enough ramblings about the league. On to the most important part of the day, the cup. It seems obvious from the full report by our glorious admin that the cup was nothing to write home about this year, all I recall is that I managed to slip through all rounds to the final, where I would have to take on Professor King on Virta Racing. With polygons the size of gorillas flashing by, I managed to get out in front, again using prior league experience to propel myself forward. The race was something of a non-event, and the outcome, a deserved victory for yours truly, and a return to knockout glory.

So the weary combatanants drifted away from the Bramcote Memorial Hall Arena having Mega Drive cake to commemorate the tenth year of championshippery and sore eyes as a momento.

I got home, dropped off Pablo Mortez and Goatman. Mrs The Plumb saw the coveted Chun-Li trophy and asked ‘who’s that then?’ Kind of puts it into perspective eh?