LarfinAl 0 Posted December 5, 2008 The Land Rover Defender of the Faith gently pulled up at the entrance tothe ground. Charles alighted and made his way to the doors as a peakcapped chap approached and muttered " It''s five pahns to park innit,gawd bilimey guv""Quite " murmured Charles as he was usheredinto the building. He was here to support some kind of communityaction. Being told it was at a football club had decided to get intothe swing of things, so to speak, by donning an old sheepshanks skincoat with a welsh rugby scarf tied around his neck. The scarf had beena gift many years ago from a chap called Max Boyce . "You look likeDr Who" chortled Camilla as he set off from Highgrove that morning.Withoutthe benefits of time travel though it had taken quite sometime to get to thisrural backwater. Thankfully his driver Fitztightly had pushed alongnicely whilst Charles had spent the journey writing his speech for nextweek''s organic real mutton conference - so far he had written "why ohwhy ".That was left on the back seat as Charles entered the building and wasgreeted by a varied collection of chaps in suits, sports wear andone odd fellow in a blazer, cravat and a very noticeably bright redface. Within a couple of minute Charles was whisked off on a tour ofthe stadium. Endless corridors with pictures hanging up much like aHarry''s bedroom he thought till they finally arrived back in thereception area.On the way Charles was informed of the greatwork the club was doing in helping small time thieves, crooks anddelinquents to get back on the straight and narrow. Mostly it appeared,they were from the first team squad. Thankfully by then it was almosttime for lunch with only a brief introduction to those gathered beforehim to get through.. After a few introductions Charles felt he wasgetting the hang of things. " The groundsman.... you look after the ground I suppose" The gateman, the Doorman ........ yes, Charles had quite grasped things by thetime he came to the last of the line up. That odd looking chap with thebright red face. " Ah quite, you look after the chairs, well done".Maybe here instead of having footman in red jackets they simply paintthe face of household staff red thought Charles, Bit over done though.Themeal was a revelation. Jelled eels, followed by pie and mash. A tasteof the real Suffolk he was informed. Not being a meat eater Charlespushed the stuff around the cardboard plate trying to engageone or two in conversation. Unfortunately he was sat opposite a ratherunusual chap who, he was informed, went by the nickname ''mad jig''.Charles could not understand a word nor get a word in either. To makematters worse the ghastly red faced chap was now wearing a monocle andthe sun''s reflection quite dazzled him. The meal, as such, waseventually cleared away and Charles rose to say a few words of thanks.Surprisinglyhis speech praising the club for it''s efforts, investments etc seem tofall on deaf ears. Charles even elaborated on how elsewhere theeconomic times had seen valuable members of staff sacked, strugglingtraders and small investors losing out to the greed of over borrowed,grasping types. What a pleasure it was to visit such a homely club asthis miles from anywhere that had not fallen to the greed culture.Charles sat down to muted applause to find a piece of paper withnumbers written on it placed nearby on a small plate. Something to dowith a chap called Bill his bodyguard appeared to whisper. Maybe a code musedCharles. The same level of disinterest followed as he later sat andwatched a number of young chappies playing on the pitch. He had beengiven a football shirt with HRH 1 written on the back. Again he had hadto wait whilst his driver briefly disappeared with his Barclaycardthingy. At bit garish for gardening thought Charles, perhaps he couldhand the shirt to one of the gardeners at Highgrove. And ashe sat watching the ground man chappie collecting tumbleweed over thefar side of the ground Charles thought of the endless struggle hisbeloved Highgrove also faced when clearing the autumn leaves. Perhapsone day he might help, perhaps one day he might also be king ..................................he was woken from his nap by his bodyguard picking up the tartan rugthat had fallen from his knees. "Time to head off, sir" his bodyguardmurmured as he carefully folded away the receipts whilst helpingCharles to his feet. " Four fifty for tea, a fiver forparking, thirty eight for a cheap shirt, lunch at.twenty threeeach........... a dear old day out" commented the bodyguard as the carsped majestically back to civilisation.with due acknowledgement to PE Share this post Link to post Share on other sites