Snetterton

Hello and welcome to this roving report 'Back O' the Grid" special. I was more than a little rough on Sunday at Brands, but this was down to over celebrating my 50th. I ended up feeling just as rough on Sunday at Snetterton, though for different reasons. Snetterton had gotten off to a bad start when I popped a ring in practice. My spare engine, which you might imagine I'd have with me, was back in Ipswich. Purple Pete "Style guru to the stars" gave an impressive demonstration of the "Transit" racing line all the way there and back. I was so impressed I wondered if we could get an entry in the sidecar race.

So Sat. evening I assisted Small Paul as he did all that clever stuff with spanners n things. While I stood by to prove that I can indeed "Lift heavy things", since there was nothing to hit with a hammer I was already on the periphery of my mechanical skill set. By 8 my spare engine spluttered into life and I dashed off to get some tea together and pass on a cold shower, the only kind on offer all weekend it seemed. Next Morning, bleary eyed after a night of awning destroying gusts of wind outside and furniture rattling snoring from Small Paul inside, I stumbled down to get a practice pass to run in my new pistons. So it was then that Howard, who had had an equally trying Sat, and I lined up at the back of the grid for race one Sunday.

What happened next is not for the squeamish amongst you, and as many of you will be having this read to you by an adult, discretion is advised. Yes, it was TZR's at fifty paces. Gary "Jensen" Button and your humble scribe, it was Team NoBra vs Team Formula Fifty. Without so much as dinner or even flowers first "Jensen" was taken roughly from behind by a big hairy Scot. Exhausted by this and feeeling like I needed a ciggie I lay down on the track for a bit of a kip. It was by all accounts, as I found out later, quite unpleasant to watch, which is what I should have been doing.

First thing I knew was when I lifted my eyes from the tacho and for a millisecond was a bit puzzled to see a bike that wasnt moving. However those on the pit wall knew I was ok when they heard me joking with the medics, some people will do anything for a captive audience. Full praise to the Medics and Marshalls at Snett. I knew as I lay there that help was on its way and I was in good hands. Even if the one who stuck the I.V mount needle into my hand was, I hope, only short on practice. If that's an example of his hand, eye co-ordination and I were Stevie Wonder, I'd be playing him at darts for money.

The worst part was being left in Norwich A&E on a trolley in a corridor to rot for an hour while they dealt with the casualties from the Sunday diy powertool/feckwit interface. A doc turned up gave me a poke n prod and declared me fit, mostly at my insistance I just wanted to get out of there. Thats why I ended up in the waiting room wearing a T shirt, sidi's and a fetching pair of green NHS surplus P.J's, which I have to say I managed to pull off. Lets face it you've either got it or you havent. ( Doctors note - George may be overdoing his pain meds )

So I shall see you all at Lydden. At time of writing I am hoping to be racing, Rangi has lent me Ron's old shed. I will be seeing Brian Simson - the bone doc - on Monday, so fingers crossed he can do his magic. If not it may be Brands before I can come out to play. I have got a complete rolling chassis to collect at Lydden and that gives me a couple of weeks to get a new bike nailed together. Wild horses wont stop me from being at Croix. Thanks to all who helped out on Sunday and to all of you who called to see how I was.

This is George Watson, for Back O' the Grid ,,,,,, Its behind you ,,,,,,,

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