Fat Me..

This is my 'fat me' pic this week.

Don't need to be naked, I just look shocking.

Oh yeah, that IS Eddie Izzard and I AM wearing an elf t shirt (seasonal)

Stoke Vs Spurs

I think the 'referees assistant' was fairly pleased with this decision....

It's 'fat me' Monday again!

Now, I must apologise for the nakedness.

This week I have eaten sensibly but haven't exercised really. My own fault, no excuses. Need to get my arse in gear.

I think I look fatter than last week. Still, fair bit of time left!

Well, here's fat me

Week 1 of 'not being (as) fat at 30'

Yes, my room is a mess.
Yes, I'm hairy.
Yes, I look camp.
My pants are awesome.

I don't want to be this fat in 5 months.

Fat at 30?

I had hoped not to be. I would rather not be, so I will need to do something epic about it. A repeat of what I did in 2001 is in order, except this time I have to be a little bit clever about it. This time around, I have more commitments and a stupid knee to contend with.

I will be 30 in exactly 4 months. Back in 2001, within a 6 month period, I went from just over 18 stone to just under 13 and a half stone. I managed this without a diet, as such. I just ate sensibly and exercised more. I joined a gym, started jogging and trained and played football whenever I could. A couple of months in, my next door neighbour Pete offered to help me a bit. He pushed and motivated me, and came to the gym with me to show me how to do things properly. He was brilliant. I got myself really fit. It was great!

Unfortunately, in May 2002 I ruined my knee. I had kept the weight off for almost a year when this happened. It was a bad injury (ruptured medial ligament, anterior cruciate ligament and cartilage damage). I was worried I'd never play football play football again, and I also worried I'd pile on all my weight again. I was off work for 3 months, and couldn't exercise during that time either.

When I returned to work, I had managed to keep all the weight off. I was very happy with myself for managing that. But, as it turned out, work would be the problem. I was a bit of an idiot, really. My job, as an apprentice electrician, was physical and tiring. The job I worked on at that time was a new build 6 storey apartment block in Aldgate. I found myself tiring easily, and very low on energy, so I thought eating big breakfasts and Mars Bars would be a good idea. It wasn't long until I was 15 stone again.

For the next few years, 15-15.5 stone was my consistent weight. It wasn't too bad. I was still fit and healthy. I was even playing semi pro football. That was a big factor in my keeping the weight consistent. Specifically a guy called Gavin Hopper, who I trained with every week. Our training was hard work - intense and disciplined. It was great, and I enjoyed it a lot. Gav was from a pro football background, and trained like a pro. We worked hard, come rain or shine.

In 2007 Gav decided to stop playing football, and we both left Lordswood, the 2nd club we'd played for together. I went on to join other clubs, but never trained with the intensity as before. I ended up being more a coach than doing the training myself. I crept up to 16 stone.

Aside from a period of extreme stress in 2009, I have been stuck between 16 and 16 and a half stone. In 2009, I managed to get down to 14st 10lbs, but that wasn't by choice. Those who know me know why that happened, but the weight came back once my life settled down.

As I write this, I weigh 16 and a half stone. Since my knee op, I can't run. I can't play football. I was told not to do my physical job, but I have no choice. I was told to lose weight, which I started to do, but promptly stopped. I don't want to be this fat for my 30th birthday.

I have a plan. My plan involves changing how I eat, doing more exercise (suitable for my stupid knee) and using this blog to help me along.

It's been done plenty of times before, so I'm going to give it a try. Tomorrow I will be posting a picture of myself (probably naked). I intend to do the same every Monday until Monday 2nd April 2012, 2 days before my 30th. I am hoping that this will help encourage me to lose the weight. I don't plan on weighing myself, as I know the scales can be deceptive for a number of reasons.

I need to do this. I need to do it for my knee. I need to do it for the good of my wallet. I can't afford to keep buying fat clothes! I need to do this for me.

Wish me luck!

A quick note...

In the unlikely event anyone ever reads my blog, may I just say that a small percentage of the posts are fairly entertaining. I would try to up that percentage, but I'm just a bit boring. Perhaps you can have a skim through and try and search for the entertaining ones? And if (when) you don't find any, please don't hate me.

Stay classy xx

Kent Invicta League

"Kent's missing link has been found"

That's what it says on the official website, anyway. It's Kent's new 'Step 6' league, bridging the gap between the Kent League (5) & the Kent County League (7).

I am lucky enough to be a part of this League's historic debut season - I am goalkeeping coach at reigning Kent County league champions Hollands & Blair FC.

The first ever game in this league was played on Friday night (19/8) between the newly formed Erith & Dartford Town FC and Phoenix Sports FC. EDT are managed ny non-league goalscoring legend Gary Abbott and play their home games at VCD Athletic's Oakwood ground in Crayford (right around the corner from where I grew up). Phoenix are managed by a former team mate of mine, Scott Saunders, and their ground is about a 5 minute walk from VCD. So about as local a derby as you could get for the big League opener.

I decided to go along and watch. I'd not been to VCD since they did it up a few years back. It's changed a lot since I played there last. The playing surface looked awesome, and there was a crowd of around 300 at the game. An excellent turn out for this level of football.

There were representatives from lots of different clubs at the game that I noticed - lots of familiar faces. And probably lots more of the crowd were there doing their homework, too, that I didn't know. There were club officials, managers and players there from teams ranging from Ryman Premier sides to Kent County Division 2. I guess everyone wanted to have a look at the standard that would be set for the new league, and have a look at the new side, Erith & Dartford.

It was a fairly entertaining game. Very one sided, though. It ended up being 4-0 to Phoenix, with the Erith & Dartford lads looking well out of their depth. In the first half, Phoenix delivered 4 crosses in to the box, and scored from 3 of them. In the second half they added the 4th, had a penalty well saved, and probably SHOULD have added 3 or 4 more goals. The Kentish Football match report can be found here, if you're interested.

With the game done, I left with the mental notes I had made, and duly forgot them by the time I got to the m25 turn off of the a2.

On Saturday we played a home game against Ashford United (playing their first game 'back' after folding in 2010). More than one person said to me on the Friday night that our game was the 'title decider'. These people are idiots. On paper, Ashford and ourselves are the 'favourites', but this is a new League, with new teams and plenty of 'unknown' factors to deal with. Ashford, along with Erith & Dartford, have the best grounds in the league. They're Ryman standard grounds. The people at our club are doing a brilliant job improving the facilities at our place, but the pitch is not the greatest. Hopefully one day that'll change, but we have players good enough to know how to deal with it.

As I was setting up for the warm up, the Ashford players all had to walk past me. All but one moaned about the pitch pretty much as soon as they stepped on it.

We won the game 1-0. To be fair, we could've had 5 or 6, and they probably could've had 2. Tubes (our goalkeeper) make a great save in the first half to keep them out, and a rare mistake in the 2nd half went unpunished thanks to the imperfections of the pitch. I don't think any of the 100+ crowd would argue we were worth the 3 points.

I have looked, with interest, at the Ashford fans' views on their forum. Everyone's had a moan about the pitch. Makes me smile, because our pitch is by no means the worst in the league! I think they're in for a few shocks, and will find out money doesn't buy you instant success at this level.

Anyway, it looks like this new league will be interesting. Hopefully the crowds will be good, and the football will be good for them to watch! I certainly enjoyed being part of the opening weekend, but I'm hoping that, this time next year, I can write a post about the club's first game in the Kent League...

Heroes

We've all got them. Some more than others, and all for different reasons. I have a few myself. All for varying, but important reasons.

This post really is dedicated to one in particular. A truly great man in my eyes. And I know I'm not alone with that opinion. It occurred to me earlier on today that it is 10 years, almost to the day, that this hero of mine died. To this day, his death is the one that hit me hardest. The only one that broke through the 'I'm dead inside' front that I tend to put on.

The man I'm talking about is Dennis Davis. I can remember, as clear as day, the moment my mum* woke me up one morning to tell me Dennis had died. For a few seconds, I tried my best to take the news in my stride, as it were, but then I cracked. I was devastated, and I cried. Lots.

Dennis was, in my eyes, one of the greatest people to have walked this planet. He was special. Probably the nicest man I have ever known.

I am trying to think back to exactly when we first met. I think I must've been about 9. My dad used to have a home beat out of Shooters Hill police station, and this is where he met Dennis and his wife Maureen. As far as I know, Dennis and Maureen used to insist on keeping my dad well stocked with tea and biscuits whenever he was around.

Me and my brothers loved Dennis from the off. He was amazing. My brother Nathan and I were fascinated by the fact Dennis used to be a pro wrestler. We loved a bit off WWF (now WWE) back then, and the novelty of Dennis being a wrestler never wore off. He was a giant man, and it was almost inconceivable as a child that such a giant would be such a kind, lovely bloke. He used to turn up to watch us play football. And we used to love it, because he always used to bring along bottles of fruit juice that we were never allowed at home (mostly pineapple!). If dad was working, Dennis used to come and pick us up, watch us play football, drop us home. He was brilliant. We used to have family outings with him, Maureen and their family. We argued over who got to go in Dennis' car, regardless of the fact he was a notoriously slow driver (who used to get stopped by the old bill for going so slow!).

When my dad injured his ankle playing football, Dennis was always on hand to drive him to physio. When my folks decided on turning the front garden in to a drive, Dennis was there in the cold and rain with his shovel helping out. If you ever needed anything, no matter how obscure, he'd pop down to his garage and he'd find it. I never got to see inside this magic garage. I'm sure whoever cleared it after he died found themselves some treats. Round their flat one day, he said he had something in his garage that'd probably interest my dad. Off he went, and reappeared with an american police issue nightstick. My dad declined the offer, though. So I imagine that went back in there until someone said they needed a nightstick!

I said earlier, Dennis was a giant. I don't know exactly how tall he was. For all I know, he might've been 5'8'', but it was just the way he carried himself that made him seem 10 feet tall. I guess, on paper, Dennis was an 'old man', but he never ever seemed it. To me, he seemed invincible. And then, one day, he had a stroke.

Seeing Dennis after his stroke was one of the most shocking things I had seen. This giant, my hero, was in a bad way. And it really upset me. But, despite his age, Dennis fought the effects of the stroke. He fought them hard, too. He even got himself back to as normal as he could possibly be. He was weaker, but he hardly showed it. The only significant change I can remember him making was changing his car. He had an F reg brown/maroon/aubergine Vauxhall Astra. He replaced that with an E reg Mazda 323 Executive, an automatic with power steering. Those with good memories will remember my first car. It was an F reg brown/maroon/aubergine Vauxhall Astra.

A short time after Dennis had fought his way back from the stroke, I was told he had cancer. I couldn't see how it was fair. He'd fought back, only to be hit with something new. It was the cancer that killed him.

Dennis was a great, great man. His death just knocked me for 6. People talk about Karma. Do good things, and good things will happen. Dennis dying the way he did blew Karma out of the water for me. And God. (S)He went, too. The nicest man I knew didn't deserve to die in pain.

I can still clearly remember his funeral. I sat with Theo Foley, the ex Arsenal assistant manager, who was an old friend of Dennis. I was in bits. So was Theo. It was an ok ceremony, as funerals go. There were plenty of laughs. And they continued in to the wake. I remember overhearing people telling stories, and most of them involved his garage. Everyone there talked about his kindness and generosity. He was a very well loved, cherished and respected man. I had a bottle of pineapple juice in the pub, for old time's sake.

I miss Dennis. I still think about him a lot. I still talk about him, too. And when I tell people about him, I always say he is one of my heroes. The sort of person many aspire to be, but very few will ever come close.

Legend

xx

(*my clear as day memory might be getting a little foggy, as it was actually my baby brother Luke who woke me up)

Stupid Knee

A few hours ago, I won an award at the Cliffe Royals Presentation Night. I got the 'Sportsman' award. I couldn't collect it myself, though.

I'm still lying about, trying to recover from the knee op I had last Friday (20/5). The stupid op I had hoped would make my life a little easier. Instead, it turned out, it came with news to suggest that it hasn't helped at all.

With a smile, the doctor told me that the damage to my knee is severe, and that it's beyond (NHS) repair. He told me that I can't play football again. I can't go running any more. Walking and standing for extended periods of time will become difficult and then impossible. He told me that my knee won't stand up to the physical strains of my job, and told me to look for something less strenuous (as if going and finding an office job somewhere was an easy thing for a self employed electrician). Still with a smile on his face, he told me that, at 29 I'm a bit young for a knee replacement, but it's something he is going to consider. He kept cracking out all sorts of stupid answers to questions I asked ("I can dye my grey hair black, but it's still grey hair" & "you can service an old car, and it might work, but it's still an old car), then told me I need to use crutches for 4-6 weeks. Just what every self employed person wants to hear. I may have cried a bit (silently, and mostly on the inside, obviously).

Like some kind of smiling assassin, he'd basically ripped my heart out. I was stupidly depressed for a few hours, before news Toby being rushed to hospital after stopping breathing put my stupid knee in to perspective.

As soon as I knew Toby was ok, I started feeling sad again. Knowing that everything I do needed reviewing and, more than likely, changing.

I have a bit of a plan. I know what I want to do, so I've got to go out and do it. When I can go out, obviously!

The Internet has provided me with a tiny glimmer of hope - there are operations available that could give me my knee back, but they're expensive. Knowing that something can be done is hope, though, so I'll cling to it for a bit.

Anyway, back to the trophy. I know 'Sportsman' and 'Clubman' awards are often seen as a bit of a joke, but I don't care. This is my last award as a player, seeing as the doctor told me I can't play again. A big thanks to Steve Mitchell & Jack Payne for awarding it to me. Also, thanks to Steve Nolan for collecting the award, and to Mark Chiverton for stealing it.

I'm heartbroken that I can't play again (well, unless I win the lottery and can afford to pay for a pritave operation), but if the 2010/11 season is to be my last, it's not been a bad one. The worst thing for me is, I'd fallen in love with playing again. As a striker. I've loved every minute playing up front (even the penalty misses - 2 in 10 minutes having never missed one in my life), and hoped to play more next season. I loved scoring goals. Ok, I only got 3, but 1 turned out to be an important winner, and the other 2 were special for me cos Jak Pigden was there to celebrate with me!

I was only at Cliffe Royals for a few months, but it was good. We were runners up in the league, and I got a cup winners medal (unused sub). And I must've made some sort of impression to get my trophy! Good times.

Considering the season started with a knee injury & being released by a club I loved being at, it turned out ok. The Royals success aside, I got myself another winners medal with Hollands & Blair. I joined them after being let go by Bly, had a good start, and was enjoying myself until broken ribs forced me out. I was replaced by a young lad called Joe Ainsley, who I think has a very good future in the game. Anyway, the manager kept in contact and wanted me to be involved in the cup final. The Kent Junior Cup, at Beckenham, with Phoenix the opponents. I agreed to go along - the club made me feel important and of course I'd do anything to help. I went to the game expecting to be on coaching duty (which I was), but on arrival to the ground I was told I'd be on the bench.

Hollands & Blair won 4-0, and I was again an unused sub. Not that I cared - I wasn't expecting to be a sub, let alone be on the pitch!

After arriving back at Hollands & Blair, every player was applauded in to the club house. The first team had won the league. The 30th April 2011 was billed as the greatest day in the history of the club. I feel honoured to have been involved.

So, all in all, as much as I'm heartbroken about not being able to play, the 2010/11 season would've taken some beating, so it seems the perfect one to end on!