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Pontefract stages a
match with a difference
Malcolm Willstrop reports ...
It must have been a moment of madness
or the influence of drink that inspired the challenge match between
Pontefract's adopted son Derek Ryan and its home bred Alan
Norrish. Since they both play for Pontefract's Yorkshire Premier
League side, the question might be asked 'so what?'.
Since Derek is a former world no 7, and although 35 last Friday is
retaining his form extremely well, Alan, a little older, and a good
standard county player, it was agreed that Alan (who by the way is
the best Elvis impressionist I have ever heard) should have a
generous 9 start, games to 15 American scoring, best of 5.
'So what', you might still be asking.
THE CHALLENGE
Well, the loser was to wear the skimpiest, sexiest, see-trough
women's underwear and serve behind the bar for an hour!
No pleasant prospect at Pontefract, or anywhere else for that
matter.
'Chicken' Derek's long-time effervescent girlfriend, a clothes
designer, had fashioned the outfit and rumour was, before the night,
that he had tried the outfit on and quite enjoyed it. There was a
nasty rumour, even, that he might throw the match!
As might be expected a large crowd, reinforced by many of Derek's
friends from Dublin and London, assembled. I say 'friends', but they
were dying to see Derek in the kit and supported Alan
wholeheartedly.
They were great value, added much to the evening, swelled the bar
takings and justified their journeys.
Derek's mother was there, too, in trepidation, no doubt, at the
prospect of seeing her popular, masculine son possibly subject to
ridicule.
THE MATCH
Having just come back from the World Championships in Doha I can
honestly say that no match there, even the final, was played with
any more intensity than the one we were about to witness.
I was given the pleasant task of announcing the players on, and the
more onerous one of refereeing.
I have to say my decisions, fairly made and mildly delivered, were
often greeted with incredulity (by the Irish contingent) and with
jeers by the crowd at large. However being used to being abused -
and I had suffered a day of personal abuse - I coped with dignity.
The terror was written in both players' eyes and the first two games
were well contested, 15/12 to Alan, 15/12 to Derek.
Alan, surer perhaps of his sexuality than Derek, driven by fear, won
the third comfortably, but Derek held together well, reached 13-all
in the fourth and sneaked it 15/13.
The quality, in such demanding curcimstances, was remarkable, but at
two-all, the crowd - of less quality than the match - were baying
for blood.
It was the sort of crowd that would have watched hangings in times
of yore and who would stone serial adulterers in far off lands
despite their consciences!
The excitement was intense, the Irish, driven by drink, could hardly
contain themselves, abusing my decisions if they didn't please, more
than ever. The players' apprehension was tangible; nervous shots,
winning chances wasted, but it was Alan, to Dublin delight, who
gained the day 15/9.
THE AFTERMATH
A shocked Derek, unable to come to terms with what lay ahead, looked
suicidal, despite Chicken repeating that privately he had enjoyed
the fitting.
After a suitable delay, for a shower, appropriate deoderants, Derek
appeared to tumultuous applause and derision, serving his hour's
sentence in style.
This is not the first deviant sexual experience he has had, and I do
worry for him a little.
The crowd had been royally entertained and Pontefract Squash Club's
reputation had been further enhanced, albeit in a different vein
from having Lee as World no.1 and James the Pakistan Open Champion!
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