Shad takes a trip to London

This weekend, the Saga Louts met 5 of their music idols in the zany form of AC/DC at Wembley Stadium.  To remind you, the Saga Louts consist of 4 mature men with a talent for music and a passion for rock (not the geological kind)!  I wrote about the Saga Louts some time ago when John and I went to see them in concert.  By that I mean jammin’ it at one of their gigs in the pub!  So John and the Saga Louts invited me to London to hit the curry house and watch one of their favourite heavy metal bands performing on stage.  While we waited for the guys to meet us at Kings Cross train station, I amused myself by wondering where platform 9 ¾ might be until the sound of bears bellowing caught my attention.  The happy hollering noises came from John and his brother and pals greeting each other warmly and exclaiming their joy at the upcoming show.  I hopped back in my basket and we made our way to the hotel for a rest and refreshments.  Next stop, Wembley Stadium!

We arrived early and the place was enormous, filled with rows and rows of bandstand seating, a huge stage at one end and a floor for standing in the middle which John referred to jokingly as the ‘mosh pit’.  As time went on, more people arrived and after John explained what ‘moshing’ was, I decided this wasn’t my cup of tea, too crowded and noisy.  So John put me in a taxi back to the hotel where a nice bowl of fish flakes was waiting for me.  He arrived back in the room at 1am looking happy and sweaty!  Apparently AC/DC slammed out a relentless celebration of rock and roll while the masses heaved in delight.  Fireworks, explosions and confetti accompanied the grand slam of distorted electric guitar and thunderous drums.  Despite their age (most of the band members are in their sixties), they strutted up and down the stage, gurning and grinning with their straggly hair stuck to their wet faces, often making a wild noise that seemed to leave the crowd mesmerised.  Apparently they came to rock!

I awoke in the morning bright and breezy, unlike John and the rest of the crew who were very tired so after a hearty breakfast to fuel the fires, we headed across to Hyde Park for a leisurely walk.  Hyde Park is one of the largest parks in London, situated next to Kensington Gardens close to the main entrance to Buckingham Palace and the Horse Guards Parade in Whitehall.  Aside from a few joggers and dog walkers, we had the park to ourselves possibly due to the dark clouds and refreshing spots of rain that were starting to fall on us.  One hot cup of coffee (and a warm saucer of cat milk for me) later, more hugs and manly taps on the shoulder indicated it was time to go our separate ways.  I suspect John’s ears are still ringing from the concert but he would tell you that it was totally worth it.

Shad talks about the rugby

This game between the Saracens and the Harlequins at Wembley Stadium was what humans call a ‘grudge match’ following a previous defeat of the Harlequins at the hands of the Saracens.  With record attendance for a club rugby match (in the region of 84,068 people) and enough testosterone-fuelled bulging biceps to give Arnold Schwarzenegger a run for his money, it was an occasion that John attended without me.  The baying crowds and mischievous language would have been too much for a respectable chap like me, plus John doesn’t like taking me to crowded places in case I get lost or squashed.

Wembley

John was so animated about the experience when he got home that I felt as though I had been there and you would have thought it was the biggest event in the history of competitive sports.  I suppose for me as a laid-back feline whose interest in physical exertion is reserved for chasing mice and running between John’s feet to beat him to the kitchen, such fierce opposition around who can catch a ball and chuck it on the floor is confusing.  But I guess its serious stuff when you’ve trained for years and been involved in contests so the rivalry between each team simmered close to the surface.

 

As the players warmed up, the crowd was treated to some music by a young pop-star called Pixie Lott who by all accounts had a very nice voice but had neglected to put on a pair of shoes.  Pixie’s chilly feet were soon forgotten once the match got underway and the spirited players started charging, grunting and head-butting their way towards victory.  There were several stops throughout the game for mopping up blood from various injuries including the occasional stray fist and the unfortunate referee was accidently floored by a Saracen player after being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  In case you’re wondering, the score was 42 to 14 to the Saracens and the poor old Harlequins went home with their tales between their legs (metaphorically speaking).