Easy 10
Brain dead MUG SHEEP
The only blotch on an otherwise splendid day out at Sunderland (other than the result), was a harrowing and humiliating experience I had with my seat in the Stadium of Light.
Just before kickoff, I decided I would like a photo of my mates with the whole stadium behind them. To get the picture, I thought I would climb over into the row behind me. So I folded down my seat to stand on it and clamber over. However, in all the excitement and rush before kickoff, I made the fatal error of standing on the back of the seat. Before I could react, my leg was immediatly swallowed by the seat as it flipped up like a bear trap, and I was sent lunging over into a woman in the row behind. Amused grins were all around me as I tried to make out that I wasn't in excruciating pain as my shin was mashed against the back of the seat and the hinges. I set about trying to free my leg. My foot was trapped in the gap between the back of the seat and the seat itself, and it was proving very difficult to dislodge as I pulled and lurched around with camera in hand. Mild panic set in as I realised that if I fell over, I would probably break my leg. No-one offered to help, but in truth I would probably have waved them away, as I wanted to maintain at least some vague sense that I was in complete control of the situation.
Eventually I summonsed up a mammoth effort, and heaved my trainered foot up through the gap, almost toppling over backwards in the process as I finally burst free like a cork from a bottle. The amused looks continued as I gave myself a moment to draw breath and recover my composure. I set about gathering up the shredded remains of my dignity, before the Dunkirk spirit welled up inside of me and I decided I would NOT be beaten. Trembling slightly, I once again folded the seat down, stepped gingerly up onto the front of it, and leapt with one graceful movement up and over into the row behind. I landed cat-like with a flourish, and almost expected applause. None was forthcoming, but I felt there was a quiet respect from those around me for facing up to that challenge again so soon after my ordeal.
My shin has ugly scrape-marks and I have a bruised toe from my battle with the seat, but I got the photo, and god-willing I will display it on these pages once it has been developed. I only hope it was worth it.
Just before kickoff, I decided I would like a photo of my mates with the whole stadium behind them. To get the picture, I thought I would climb over into the row behind me. So I folded down my seat to stand on it and clamber over. However, in all the excitement and rush before kickoff, I made the fatal error of standing on the back of the seat. Before I could react, my leg was immediatly swallowed by the seat as it flipped up like a bear trap, and I was sent lunging over into a woman in the row behind. Amused grins were all around me as I tried to make out that I wasn't in excruciating pain as my shin was mashed against the back of the seat and the hinges. I set about trying to free my leg. My foot was trapped in the gap between the back of the seat and the seat itself, and it was proving very difficult to dislodge as I pulled and lurched around with camera in hand. Mild panic set in as I realised that if I fell over, I would probably break my leg. No-one offered to help, but in truth I would probably have waved them away, as I wanted to maintain at least some vague sense that I was in complete control of the situation.
Eventually I summonsed up a mammoth effort, and heaved my trainered foot up through the gap, almost toppling over backwards in the process as I finally burst free like a cork from a bottle. The amused looks continued as I gave myself a moment to draw breath and recover my composure. I set about gathering up the shredded remains of my dignity, before the Dunkirk spirit welled up inside of me and I decided I would NOT be beaten. Trembling slightly, I once again folded the seat down, stepped gingerly up onto the front of it, and leapt with one graceful movement up and over into the row behind. I landed cat-like with a flourish, and almost expected applause. None was forthcoming, but I felt there was a quiet respect from those around me for facing up to that challenge again so soon after my ordeal.
My shin has ugly scrape-marks and I have a bruised toe from my battle with the seat, but I got the photo, and god-willing I will display it on these pages once it has been developed. I only hope it was worth it.
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(However wasn't laughing later when Rochdale equalised in the 95 minute, especially when the fourth official had put up 3 MINUTES for extra time 
)
