I had an absolute mare last Thursday. Not only did my car fail on me while driving 60mph on the way to work, resulting in me careering into a ditch like some sort of extra from Smokey & the Bandit, my phone also decided to peg out on the same day.
It’s no joke when your steering begins to lock up and you lose control of your motor while haring down an A road, less so for a man who failed his test five times and is to driving what Jeremy Clarkson is to political correctness.
Having no motor for a few days hasn’t phased me. But having no phone? Forget about it. Let me tell you kids, a life without a smart phone is no life. Are you aware there is actually a condition called iPhone separation anxiety? It’s a very real condition and I was suffering from it badly over the weekend.
Having to put all my bets on in the betting shop. Having to actually speak to people in real life rather than on What’s App. Not being able to instantaneously Google the real name of ginger Fiz from Coronation Street. I’ll level with you, It’s been a living f*cking nightmare.
After my near-death experience in my not so trusty Clio I elected against going full pelt on the booze over Bank Holiday and instead volunteered to baby-sit my two-year-old nephew for my sister.
Despite his youth he already has an impressive command of Anglo-Saxon vernacular and livened up a trip to McDonald’s for a Happy Meal on Sunday when he, after some coaxing from yours truly, called the woman taking the drive thru orders “a brass”.
She took it with good grace, unlike me as the burger joint once again fluffed my order. I don’t know about you but where I live the McDonald’s should actually have a third drive thru window where you can trade all the wrong sh*t they give you at the second window back in. It was all swings and roundabouts though, for what I lost in Big Mac and fries I more than made up for on the boxing.
I backed Tony Bellew to beat Ilungu Makabu at 11/10 for the vacant world WBC cruiserweight title and also bet that the fight would last less than 10.5 rounds at the same price. Scouser Bellew was dropped heavily in the first round but roared back to stop Makabu in the third of an absolutely brutal battle. All my bets were in but the fun didn’t stop there as a clearly buzzing Bellew then gave a post-fight interview will go down in the annals, talking about “fish eyes” and calling David Haye a “pr*ck”.
I’ve long since known that betting heavily on international friendlies is a quick way to the poor house, but that didn’t stop me lumping on the Republic of Ireland to beat Belarus at 5/6 on Tuesday night.
The Irish had lost just once in 13 matches while Belarus had not scored in 450 minutes of international action going into the game at Turner’s Point. ‘5/6’ I thought? ‘I’ll sh*t ’em’ I thought.
The match was being played in Cork, birthplace of Irish legend Roy Maurice Keane. Keane of course is known for two things. Being one of the best midfielders in Premier League history. And occasionally looking like Saddam Hussein whenever he grows a beard.
Martin O’Neill made 11 changes to the team that drew with the Netherlands the week before, but I was still convinced the Irish would be too strong in ‘The Rebel County’. How wrong I was. Mikhail Hardzeichuk scored an absolute peach from outside the area in the first half as Belarus claimed a 2-1 win.
Cheeky’s Punt of the Week: Portugal to win Group F at evens (Sky Bet)