A new name, a new game, (and for some) new shame - but the fun and camaraderie stayed very much the same as the 12 men of COFB returned to the Algarve for their annual golfing and bacchanalian extravaganza.
After a highly convivial afternoon meet at the Tivoli hotel where introductions were made, old friends reunited and the customary moaning about handicaps took place it was off to the rather salubrious surroundings of the Alma Lusa restaurant for an excellent evening repast.
Following the success of last year’s inaugural Texas scramble it was decided to repeat things at a new COFB venue Boavista the following day. A hard fought game ended with the mixed faith team of Dog, Groucho NM and COFB being beaten by the All-Proddie outfit of Weirdo, Big Nose, Godfrey and newbie Rosie - whose magnificent performance in the shoe off against the experienced thrower COFB sealed a memorable victory.
What was planned as a relaxing afternoon at the beach was anything but after a Kalahari sandstorm and freezing water put paid to some good intentions and it was off to another new venue - Bar Favorite (our new favourite coz it was only 3.50 Euro a pint) before staggering into town for a meal at Dom Henrique.
The walk back to the hotel proved a mite troublesome for Godfrey whose impression of a walrus slipping into one of the town centre fountains was one of the more shameful moments of the trip.
Friday dawned with everyone minds turning to the daunting prospect of a return to the tough Palmares links unfortunately without Riggers, apparently waylaid by dodgy fish, who spent the day evacuating from a different orifice to last year. On the course it was tough going with only COFB showing a welcome return to form and a solid score to 31 to head the leaderboard. There was particular disappointment for the sartorially challenged perennial winner NM and ex England international Gummy whose pre-tournament online spat obviously affected their performance in the heat of battle. At the bottom it was the Proboscis monkey twins BOD and Duncan who were left languishing in dangerous doughnut territory.
Still there was no time to fret as it was back out to Bar Favorite and a fabulous early evening session of games (including a memorable reverse buzz first) plus the introduction of Gummy’s high viz jacket together with the miserable sods walk of shame (Hodges, COFB, Gummy and Big Nose) around the perimeter particular highlights. The evening took an evening greater leap with the arrival of a surprise guest in the form of Gunnersbury and Gayt legend Nev Wilson who quickly realised that time had actually stood still for 40 years. Nev accompanied us to Millwall Ken’s for the customary fabulous fare where he witnessed the slims led by Groucho and Dog crush the darbies in the singing competition despite some memorable COFB solos.
There were plenty of sore heads the following morning when it was off to the final days golf at Penina where chairman Bod was in fine form insisting on a pre round beer followed by a compulsory sock swapping before the real business got underway. The fight for the trophy and the battle to avoid being the doughnut proved to be two Titanic battles. In the former COFB came out strong and looked to be on for a shock win before disintegrating around the turn. Dog then took over with some solid golf before his own collapse in the final holes and Godfrey hung around till the end before missing a two footer on the last. It was left to Weirdo aided by a magnificent chip in birdie on the back nine to claim a justified victory. In the doughnuts it was equally nip and tuck with everyone looking a bit sugary at some stage. In the end it was Bod who took the dishonours just from Big Nose the pressure of the his chairmanship proving too much to bear.
After the condolences and congratulations it was back to Bar Favorite for more high viz shenanigans with Rosie’s pleading with Godfrey to be his friend a particular highlight. There was also plenty more of the newly named Fizz Buzzard and accompanying wing flapping before a final meal at the superb Mar restaurant proved a fitting coda to another wonderful Algarvian Adventure. Special thanks as always to Hodges magnificent marshalling of the whole event.
Roll on Alvor 25!
Just occasionally, even the greatest sporting contests can be overshadowed by extraordinary events. From Hitler’s attempt to turn the 1936 Berlin Olympics into an advert for Aryan Supremacy to Spain’s football boss Luis Rubiales playing tonsil hockey with one of his World Cup winning heroes, sometimes there have been indelible stains left on what should be a joyous carnival of sporting endeavour. For COFB 2023, this indelible stain proved to be on the rather fetching lilac shorts of one of the 12 golfing gladiators at this year’s event.
It is sad to say that long after George the Debt’s wire to wire heroics to secure the treasured COFB Cup are but a distant memory, the faecal explosion suffered on that first day of competition will be disturbingly fresh in the minds of all who bore witness. As COFB himself put it: “I’ve shit on a golf course but I’ve never shit myself.” Of course, there had been signs.
A particularly raucous first evening of games and drinks at the al fresco Garden Restaurant saw several casualties en-route back to the hotel. Worst affected was COFB himself, when a fall on the cobbled streets of Lagos was expertly – and sensitively – captured on film by photographer Dog, whose dedication to cinema verite prevented him from helping his stricken companion.
Still, as the following day dawned there was much excitement as it was confirmed that this year’s competition would start with a Texas Scramble format. Ably led by Weirdo but with important contributions from everyone, the all Harrow County team stormed to victory with an amazing -17 total. Then it was off to the stunning and bracing waters of Lagos beach for some rest and much needed rejuvenation.
The day was rounded off with a fine meal at the Dom Henrique Rua restaurant before it was back to Luis’ bar for a nightcap.
On Friday, after the fun of the Texas Scramble it was back to the serious business of the first round of the COFB Cup at Morgado. The return of 7-time champion NM, the international experience of Gummy and serene consistency of Weirdo meant the smart money was on them to flourish, but it turned out that George with 39 points and Groucho with 37 points, emerged from the pack to take the first-round honours. COFB, still reeling from his fall, managed seven points and later withdrew from the battle leaving a tightly bunched group in contention for the doughnut.
Another trip to the beach followed in the afternoon with the Catholics scrambling a dubious rounders victory and then on to Millwall Ken’s for a glorious meal and singing, highlighted by Bod’s Queen rendition that brought the house down.
For the final round it was back to Palmares for the climax of the golf. Despite some hotly debated handicap revisions and a solid first 9 from Groucho resulting in a brief lead, no-one could stop George the Debt from claiming his first COFB title as he romped to victory by 8 shots with none of the established golfers managing to sustain a real challenge. In the doughnuts a broken Gummy managed a tricky four-footer for par at the final hole to tie Riggers as Doughnut.
A final frolic in the sea was followed by a fabulous meal at the wonderfully situated Mar Restaurante overlooking Lagos Harbour and then back to Luis’ bar to watch a true sporting encounter between Ireland and South Africa at the Rugby World Cup.
So, another trip ends and all of us are left to ponder how age is not only affecting our somewhat limited sporting prowess, but also our simple bodily functions. We really must enjoy every moment we can.
History is littered with a generous helping of great sporting rivalries. Boxing has Foreman and Ali’s Rumble in the Jungle; Ryder Cup Golf’s War on the Shore will never be forgotten or forgiven. But these savage showdowns pale in comparison to ‘A little bit of Bish Bash Bosh in Lagos’.
COFB heralded a new era of intensive religious wrangling when Pope Polak’s Catholic hoard (not forgetting the Jew) took on the Reverend Andy Howe’s Protestant Band (not forgetting the Jew). Even before the first swing was taken there was drama. Firstly, the Protestants suffered the late withdrawal of COFB’S most consistent and part-time hair restoration model, NM. The Catholics almost lost one of their own most consistent performers when the Hippomobile burst a tyre on its way to the airport and its owner had to stroke/bribe a young breakdown mechanic to chauffeur him to Luton, just in time for the flight.
It was with great relief then that 12 battle-hardened gladiators finally assembled at the Tivoli Hotel for the first of many libations before the following day’s opening salvo at Morgado - in a battle that would make the Thirty Years War look like a kindergarten bun fight. As both sides gathered on the Thursday morning at the hotel, Pope Polak was hoping that his impromptu anointing of his team with holy water and presenting of highly realistic DOG collars would provide the inspiration for opening day success. But it was not to be!
When the much-anticipated draw was finally announced a combination of an inspired display by Riggers (especially on stroke indexes 1-4 where he received 3 shots) and a masterful COFB debut from George the Debt (aka the Catholic Dragon-slayer) ably assisted by Zealey the Jew, gave the Protestants 2 victories. In the end, it was only the Catholics’ powerhouse combination of the Pope himself and his toothless henchman Gummy that kept the score respectable: Protestants 2 – Catholics 1. The evening’s celebrations, including a fine meal at Restaurante Dom Henrique led to an uneasy truce with both teams debating internally on the crucial second day pairings.
When the day of reckoning finally dawned at Palmares, Pope Polak decided to retain his winning partnership with Gummy and they were ultimately too strong for a tiring Riggers and an inept Godfrey. But this reliance on getting off to a winning start was a victory that would ultimately not lead to winning the war. Saint George repeated his heroics from the opening day to again combine with Zealey to trounce Hodges and COFB, while Reverend Howe and the silky-swinging Canadian Weirdo were also too strong for Bod and Hippo. The Catholics were vanquished and the inaugural COFB Chalice Challenge went to the Proddies 4 to 2. After 2 days of sometimes vicious fighting, it was time to put religious differences aside and remember that truism: (when one person is delusional, it’s called insanity, when many people are delusional, its called religion.)
After a fabulous dinner at Millwall Ken’s, it was time to look forward to Saturday’s one-round COFB Challenge tournament at Alamos. While George and Riggers were spent forces tied for the doughnut, it was the Catholics, relieved of the burden of their religious yokes, who took the top three places. Hippo produced a very solid 37 points, but it was Pope Polak and Bod the Jew who were truly inspired with 39 points a-piece. In true and one and only COFB style, the final winner had to be decided by a shoe-off and after a sometimes-difficult few days, Pope Polak finally got the divine intervention he was constantly craving when he secured victory with the perfect throw onto the trophy. Redemption at last!! A final fabulous meal at the stunningly situated Camilo restaurant, including COFB himself’s wonderful new face-drawing game, brought a fabulous end to COFB 2022.
Another great trip, superbly organised by Hodges, at a fabulous location and stunning beach, an innovative and successful new format, and a special mention to George for stepping up and proving a wonderful addition to the COFB family. See you in 2023!
“Good friends are like stars - You don’t always see them, But you know they’re always there”
So it was with much joy and anticipation that 15 men of COFB converged on Studley Wood GC in Oxfordshire for the first round of this year’s hotly anticipated competition.
Resplendent in wonderful, and flattering, athletic fit shirts it proved to be a record breaking start on a perfect opening course. Gummy ruminated his way around the 18 holes accumulating a massive 50pts while COFB himself rolled back the years with an equally breathtaking 47. Invictus, despite his newly modified swing, care of a double shoulder dislocation, found he had not quite perfected his takeaway and struggled to just 27pts and last place.
After a few libations it was quickly off to the heart of the Cotswolds and the sumptuous splendour of the Lamb Inn in Great Rissington the base for the next three days of comradely carnage. Post prandial pranks were interrupted for a very serious investigation into the heinous cock-up perpetrated between Bod and NM on the revered COFB trophy. NM passed the buck to Bod whose explanation that new engraver Irene was “a proper fat twat” garnered little sympathy with the crowd and an incandescent Hodges in particular.
Then it was on to who would have the honour of chairing the 30 year celebrations and following the always scrupulously fair election process and a surprise pint off it was COFB himself who emerged victorious and the perfect choice. The evening concluded as always with much laughter and games and the crushing realisation that 15 reasonably intelligent men still, after three decades of practice, can’t muster getting past 30 fucking 5 at fizz buzz.
The second morning shone bright and it was off to Heythrop Park, home habitat of COFB’s resident river horse and benefactor the Hippo. Also, the only COFB course to be alcohol free. Falling standards? Despite nearly losing it at the par 5 10th when the golfing gods refused to release his tree bound ball back into the middle of the fairway, “why do I never get any cunting luck” he regained his composure to record a solid round and bring himself into contention for the ultimate prize. With Gummy and COFB not rediscovering their brilliance from day one it was now getting too close to call at the top of the leaderboard and, more importantly, with RTLM having a bad day there was the possibility that Invictus’ inexorable hobble to becoming the doughnut was not the foregone conclusion many envisaged.
Early evening was spent at the delightful Feathered Nest pub in Westgate where the rolling gardens provided the perfect backdrop for some high-quality obstacle races and team Shoe-off competition before it was time to return to the Lamb. The relays to decide teams for the evening should be given greater consideration to ensure the presence of a local A&E prior to commencement.
RTLM’s disappointment with his golfing display did not last long after Godfrey’s odd combination of quiz, games and taste tests enabled him and teammates Groucho and Gummy, to emerge victorious, thanks mostly to Groucho’s ability to land a shuttlecock in a sombrero from six feet away.
The morning of day 3 provided a rare chance for some non-golfing and drinking activity when most able bodied tourists descended on the Great Rissington cricket ground to show off to the locals our magnificent and enduring football, rugby and cricket skills. The Hippo, in particular, was poleaxed when completely misjudging an up and under and the ball landing plum on his bonce leaving him momentarily speechless before explaining the sun was shining in his eyes.
Then it was off to the picturesque setting of the Wychwood club to decide the final standings. Despite an effort to leave him behind at the first Hippo again kept his cool to beat Gummy to the trophy in a titanic battle. At the sharp end Sicknote, after a stellar amateur career, 50 years of high and lows and even an Open appearance, found himself embroiled in a dogfight with RTLM and a resurgent Invictus (off 54) to avoid being the doughnut. As Gummy memorably quipped later “he’s gone from Seve to Stevie”. Still Sicknote managed to pull himself together to avoid and further humiliation and watch in awe as RTLM crumbled against Invictus’ burst of 8 for 1’s to take the doughnut title.
Prior to leaving for the 30th gala dinner, Weirdo was dispatched to the gents via the in and out doors to the kitchens, much to the mirth of those present. Joined by the ever-ebullient Serge Duffy and the ever lovely Chris Glynn (a high chair was provided) this turned out to be a hugely enjoyable experience and a poignant reminder of an absent friend. Dog gave a heartfelt and mercifully short speech before handing out the magnificent new COFB ties.
After a fabulous feed it was down to the serious business of swapping shorts with the person next to you (Groucho to COFB being a particularly straining experience) to get things going. There followed some bizarre massages and games all topped off with Groucho’s guitar (like fine wine improving with age) that managed to make even the most tuneless twits ( you and me Dog) feel like we can sing.
So there it is - 30 years of
Tiger feet and chicken suits
Inaugural provisionals and three off the tees
COFB kebabs and steak and chips
Receding hairlines and expanding waistlines
Duffing and fluffing
Fizz buzz and names of
Excess baggage and excess drinking
Keepy uppy and keeping it downy
Freezing beach dips and poolside bombing
3 for 5 and 8 for 1
Beautiful scenery and awful nightclubs
Magnificent memories and forever friends
See you all in 2022 - Godfrey
Back in 2009 the global credit crunch attempted to destabilise COFB. It failed. In 2020 Covid-19 also had a bloody good go, but also came up short. Nothing gets in the way of the 5th major! Quarantine rules meant a venue change from Lagos to Cornwall but we were still beside the seaside, drinking, eating, laughing and trying to play golf amongst a unique bunch of top mates.
Day -1 - Wednesday Trevone
The boys gathered in Trevone at a splendid house, courtesy of Tyrone’s mate, just 10 minutes walk to the beach (or a 1 minute drive for Rigsby) all except Andy who arrived day 1 and sadly Godfrey, who could not come away this year.
Hodges and The Love Muscle had visited COSTCO and sent the share price rocketing with their gargantuan purchase of beer and wine for the weekend. A game broke out in the back garden - some might call it cricket with many demonstrating their age. Most appeared as though they had never played before owing to poor eyesight and lack of agility/ability.
COFB surprisingly bowled quite well for a) Welshman and b) a Gunnersbury Old Boy. Invictus unsurprisingly didn’t bowl very well with his first delivery pitching on his own toe. Games begin as Nigel asks, “Did you pick my beer up from the top of the oven NM?” (of course, he has) It had started….
We dined at the Trevone Beach Café which is surprisingly good for a café.
The annual draw for chairman takes place. Fiasco doesn’t do it justice. COFB says “it's 3 to Hodges and only one person can catch him - we've just one vote left”. He unfolds ticket, shows it to Dog and says “we have a draw - 3 votes for Steve.” Dog says, “it doesn't say Steve”. COFB says “LOOK AGAIN WILL YOU”. Dog says, “unless I'm mistaken, it definitely says Tyrone “. Penny then drops. Agghh!
Hodges does a decent job, along with taking control of everything else for the entire weekend. Nazi Germany was more lenient. “Heil” “NM you are banned from swearing” NM “Fuck Off”.
The Flid Yid game is devised. COFB begins "Starting with to my right, Flid Yid. Russell counters, "Tim Greenwood springs to mind" COFB responds “Fuck off” See Russell it did make is past editorial bias.
The evening concludes with a hike up Heart Attack Hill. OK for the youngsters but COFB and Rigsby have to stop in the bus shelter to recover
Day 1 - Thursday Golf: Trevose
The young 6 go for beach games at Trevone. The elder statesmen, Bod and Love Muscle straight into the cafe for flat whites. Breakfast follows along with the arrival of Andy. Boris aptly names his new Covid marshals as Hodges.
We arrive at the glorious links golf course that is Trevose and Hodges engages the starter in idle banter. He states that he has seen pretty much everything in his 30 years. Cue Invictus; he steps up to the first tee and delivers a drive through cover-point that bisects the putting green at head height, proceeds, en-route to Padstow, hits the road and into a car, before continuing down the road. The starter in Cornish drawl says, “well I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
Russ tries to ease the tension by stating “Do you know I won the senior open?” Bit of Tyas in there maybe.
COFB apropos nothing says “Kevin has now taken over COFB. Might as well call it “KPH golf tours”, Jerome has left, and Holian is a cunt” all in one breath.
A wonderful meal followed at the Golf Club enlightened by fine Red wine and a callipygous waitress. Xxxxxx is in lust and wants to buy her.
Drinks follow at the house and the doubling cow is introduced.
Day 2 - Friday Golf : Newquay
Everyone is a little weary at Newquay following a sumptuous breakfast sourced by Bod and Kevin and assisted in the cooking by Tigs. Thanks guys, top job.
Great news from Ian that lifts everyone’s spirits
NM 1st tee at Newquay - “Only 3 buggies. Holian is fucking useless this is fast becoming like Auschwitz.”
NM - “The next fourball features The Flids against The Yids”
Gummy - “My weight is the heaviest. My handicap is highest and my scores the lowest. It can only get better’
Unattributed - “This is We will fight them on the beaches day.”
Misery continues, Rigsby hits a house and takes a tile off, hits into his own buggy, unfortunately doesn’t hit any greens and finishes with 8 points.
Bod wins with 43.
Holian again collects the scores……………….incorrectly!
We return to the house to partake in the Wine Tasting organised by Russell who had covered all the bottles in brown paper to preserve anonymity. Wolf Blassgate follows with random scores added to random wines!
Astonishingly, Tyrone, who claims a knowledge of fine wine, finishes last and COFB, much to everyone’s surprise wins with a bottle of Campo Vieja Reserve. It later transpires, in Ealing GC’s stock-take that they are one bottle of the aforementioned light.
Duncan comments to Tyrone “all that expertise (or was it bullshit) and you are still last” Tyrone blames the uneducated palates of ‘those heathens from Harrow County’.
The food (steak, baked jackets and “Corn on the Cofb”) are excellently cooked and served by the inner wankdom and the bonus was that they cleared up after. Well done boys, much appreciated.
Games begin and the doubling cow is now in overdrive. Tim Greenwood joins us in the form of Duncan’s brain. Bod is now on a roll and introduces reverse playground pick.
Bod instigates a game of Conkers and declares “I’m a Jew Dictator”
The games start to degenerate and culminate in Vidal Lozowski trimming NM’s airborne quiff. The resulting ‘candyfloss’ is attached to the cow’s head and remains there still.
Day 3 - Saturday Golf : Trevose
Breakfast at the beach and cricket for most. COFB exits the water in his budgie smugglers Nigel comments “From Thorpedo to Tour-Paedo.
Off to Trevose for the final round of punishment. The donut group eat Donuts in preparation for the day ahead. Somebody greases Dog’s clubs and the prime suspect is from Liverpool. Gum crime at its worst!
Bod is leading COFB so he is banned from drinking beer both before and during his round. Genius, as no harsher punishment is possible. Tour- Paedo again says “Fuck Jerome”. Anyone know why?
Hippo who, maintaining last year’s theme of continuous moaning, continues to talk total bollocks and makes unfounded accusations of walking in front of the greens. “Did you walk on the green in front of Tyrone?” Gummy “yes, we were in the group in front.”
History shows that Covid COFB Champ 2020 was NM beating Big Nose mk2 at the extra hole with a double bogey 6. The Donut was once again Invictus despite his 37 on the last day though COFB’s arse was very squeaky after 12 holes.
The last supper was again by the beach. Excellent food, beer and wine again with the usual banter and silly games to follow. After dinner we all headed back up the hill for the grand finale where Groucho and his Guitar kept us happy into the early hours with an awesome sing-song.
Sad to think it may be another year before we can all meet up again (Grim reaper allowing).
Day 4 - Sunday : Trevone
Cars loaded and fond farewells made. The M5 beckons.
Thanks are due to: -
Kevin Jong-Un, Supreme chairman (remember next year when voting that the ‘Supreme’ leader did not relinquish his post, as is usually the case, despite numerous errors). Don’t allow dog near the ballot box.
Hodges – for brilliant organisation and distribution of funds. Reorganisation of the whole trip which must have taken many days work
Tyrone – For sorting the out the accommodation
Ealing GC - provision of the winning wine
Bod – provision of conkers
Andy – for his unique entertainment
Everyone - for your friendship and good humour
‘til next year x
There is currently much concern around concussion and how it will/may affect rugby players in later life. If any of the medics involved in this research were in south-east Spain in early September, where 14 men including many ex rugby players ate, drank, golfed and forgot stuff, rugby would be banned for ever!
The pioneer group of Roger, Riggers and Red Rummy arrived early on the 6 am flights for reconnaissance purposes and some R and R. All was going well swimming and sunning until Gummy suggested “shall we have a beer”. An hour later Roger is giggling and gurgling – No tipping plants available. The lights are already dimming.
Dog is fortunate to arrive as he leaves his bag including cloths & passport on a National Express coach. Fortunately, the bus had stopped at Luton for its customary 1-hour turnaround and the bag was recovered.
The Remoaners arrive at various times and meet at the Funky Tapas Bar whose Tapas included ‘Sausage and Mash’, ‘Cottage Pie’ and the supersized ‘Texas Burger and not for the last time “14 lagers please”
Draw held for day 1’s golf. Astonishing that Roger and Holian managed to pick Dog, Jon Tyrone and NM into the group of death!
Oh! Tyrone did not stop moaning about his handicap.
Day 2 – El Parasio
After a strut around the beautifully adorned swimming pool the Dog, sporting his manly pink bandages as well as a khaki dressing for his injured carpal, decided it needed to disappear as sympathy levels are at zero.
The psychedelic room are 10 minutes late and are suitably abused.
Kevin now thinks that our esteemed leader is missing and despatches his roomy to see if he has had a heart attack in the room. Our leader Jones is MISSING! Somebody advises Kevin to ring the other minibus. He rings Rigby who is sitting behind him, he rings Andy, who is sitting next to him. Hodges has lost it. He gets some fresh air and appears to recover, remembering to ring someone in other mini bus. COFB is safe!
Our quick snifter before the round is punctuated by more handicap discussions. The ‘injured dog’ agrees to a cut from 22 generously awarded by his hypochondriac girlfriend in the V.A.R. room in Stockley Park.
It is further interrupted by Bod realising his money has been stolen from his bag. The club and police are notified, and CCTV is to be viewed whilst we are on the course. Have we been here before? By the sixteenth hole the problem had been resolved, the money having been found in the ‘secret pocket’.
Andy realises he has left a club on a previous green, so he drives back to the next group who said they had seen it and left it where it was (proper COFB response). He then drives back to next group. He gets to within reach of a buggy that contains his club but of course they drive off again. He eventually recovers his club but then Dave Jones nicks their buggy key, drives off and leaves it on the next tee.
The loss of the money seems to have motivated Bod as he finishes the round with 46pts, 1 ahead of Hodges on 45pts. Bod is elevated to Israel’s greatest sporting hero. Dog asks, “is Bod on a different bus?”
VAR room decrees Ealing members no handicap revision. Non-Ealing members cut 4.
Oh! Tyrone still moaning.
We leave the clubhouse with Hodges having forgotten to pay! Are I.S. losing the plot? Did they ever have it?
The Senior citizen tour presses on to ‘Shango’s ‘an excellent venue with excellent staff, food and wine. The psychedelic room arrives 70 minutes late for dinner.
Russell eats dinner and falls asleep. Tyrone is voted in as Chairman and proceeds to make a decent fist of it. Old rules are tossed out, Russell is woken and despatched to get the Swedish girls to join us. Unfortunately, the organisers think that the girls will not be able to cope with Fizz-Buzz a) They are Female b) they are foreign c) by virtue of a) and b) they are therefore stupid (intelligent and logical in my view). So Buzz begins, the girls pick up the game immediately including one girl who clearly didn’t need the help of the aging Lothario (but she got it anyway).
The Swedish National anthem is sung by the girls followed by all singing ‘Dancing Queen’ except for an increasingly red faced and angry Bod singing ‘birth control ‘and shouting that this isn’t COFB! Tyrone is bringing a new style to Chairmanship.
Riggers and Tyrone go to the casino for a nightcap. Receptionist: “you can’t come in, you are in shorts (yes, those chicken shorts and I can’t argue) and you are drunk.” Cue full scale row. I want the manager here; she can’t call me drunk and you’re going to need more than two bouncers if I kick off. He is eventually persuaded to leave surround by 8 bouncers although, as we all know, he can’t punch his way out of a wet paper bag. He is still moaning
Day 3- Marbella Golf and Country Club
A quick recap on the previous night over breakfast and the pool and it’s off to golf. Team photograph taken and we’re off and away in the buggies.
The golf is relatively uneventful, and the minibus is already waiting to take us back to the hotel so no drinks tales.
La Sala, a restaurant well-known for its beautiful receptionists and waitresses-wonder who chose this? Food was excellent but it was disappointing being hurried out. There was an outburst from ‘Angry Andy’ something nobody had ever witnessed previously. This resulted in the most pathetic bolt’em buzz in COFB history especially Rogers bolting of his Fanta orange. The I.S. need to look at this in future. We stand up to leave and the conveniently placed fans turn N.M.s hair into a candy floss impression.
all head down to the port and take up residence in the pub next to Sinatra’s. Compulsory large pernods are ordered by the chair’s nominated lacky. Roger does his magic trick “now you see him, now you don’t.”
Bod begins to weave his own magic. A slick movement of the hip, a quick flick of the nose and there is an orderly queue of signoritas in front of him. In due course Tyrone flashes his big wad and Bod is relegated to the cheap seats. Still it saves him £400 and joining in with Paul Simon’s ‘A mother and child reunion is only a motion away’ (with the assistance of a single digit).
Tyrone still moaning about everything.
Day 4 – Capobina
All try to ease the pressure on Bod, and attend the Wailing Wall ceremony and make appropriate wailing wall noises. Someone asks, “is he really Jewish?’ some wag responds “no he’s just got a fucking big nose”
N.M endures possibly his first ever Donut Group but is saved further embarrassment by O’Var who momentarily extracts his tongue from the Polish rectum to perform similar on the bent copper and give him two extra shots and ensure the six-time champ keeps his hair on for another year. He does however suffer further pain in witnessing Rigsby score a 3 for 5 on the opening hole. (normal service was quickly resumed)
At post-match drinks and presentations Russell dons the Arabian shoes, The chicken shorts and the donut shirt. Bod deservedly wins the COFB trophy with 104 points, closely chased by 6 others over 100.
Highlights of the post competition drink at the club were Gummy having a further shoe-Jew meltdown. What is it about that game? Redwood names his game as reverse fizz-buzz. Redwood “to my left 48”, Rigsby “buzz” Redwood ”..…………!”…North Harrow’s finest bolts another pint and moves ever closer to the coveted Tim Greenwood mensa prize…
As we rush to get on the coach, we once again witness Roger bolting a pint of orange left-handed and without pinkies perked! Further punishment is administered.
We make our own way from Andalusia Plaza to Tango. Another impressive restaurant with attentive staff. The smug, leading 7 despatch the unwashed herd to another table. Whilst busily patting themselves on the bottom the lowly 7 are onto their 4th bottle of Red. “where did you get that from” the cry went up. “ask a waiter” was the unsympathetic response from the already pissed, table two.
Following an excellent meal and some more large pernods, the tables mingled with Bod and Redwood bonding - Love shack baby- or was Bod telling him how to avoid choking.
The return journey was relatively unmemorable save that Dog for the first time in three years took his own bag home. COFB’s return from tour proved once again to be his nadir with a nail in his tyre. How is your luck?
Thanks to Kevin once again for his excellent organisational skills and keeping us in order despite his failing faculties
Good luck to Tigs who is likely to move to NZ and may not be able to travel next year. We all hope you can.
Well done to our virgin champ Baldrick.
Stop Press Next year’s COFB trip is being arranged around Caroline Powles’ holiday dates, O’Shea’s hospital appointments’ and a suggestion of better courses in colder climes .. There is an IS ‘off-site’ meeting (at a secret venue) currently being organised. Watch this space
They came from far and wide (Gatwick, Stansted, Luton and John Lennon) but with a common goal: to meet up with old mates and have a good laugh…oh, and to play some golf. The last time Weirdo won COFB he had a full head of hair, the top 5 in the Premiership were: Man Utd, Aston Villa, Norwich, Blackburn, QPR and interest rates in the UK rocketed to 12% following our withdrawal from the European Exchange Rate Mechanism. Difficult to believe I know but yes, it’s fact, Man Utd WERE top of the premiership, it was that long ago!
Day 1 (minus 1)
Early arrival plan disrupted by plane delay. Ha Bloody Ha and serves the early birds fucking right!
Day 1
The remainder of the party all depart their respective airports on time and arrive safely at Faro.
A cursory greeting was made with the EBs and a briefing meet was called for 9.50. The insubordination trend is set in place when 2 of the IS are late for the meet and their wild card, ‘Big nose 1’, fails to turn up at all despite his excellent night’s sleep.
It is 28 degrees by the pool and Jerome (IS) suggests that next year we go to Northern Ireland, cost £ 1400. Mmm. Are IS a spent force? Still we all had a good laugh.
A round of Golf takes place. Rigsby managed to hit the same burn on 16, 17 and 18. Gummy asks where he got his clubs from? His resigned response was “the complete and utter fucking golfer”. The die is cast methinks. Redwood and Frank Worthington are ‘out of the traps’ like a couple of whippets with 36 & 37 points respectively.
A couple of beers, a shower (for most) and hit the road to Lagos. Except that an IS member, a semi aquatic mammal, and one that requires a periodontist are late stating that their time is “more precious”.
We arrive in a deserted car park in Lagos at the same time as Jason Bourne being chased by the Stazi. Nevertheless, Kiko’s Tapas bar was excellent both in terms of atmosphere and the quality of food. Amazingly the vote for Chairman ended up as a draw resulting in the most pathetic “pint off” between Dog (IS) and Hodges (IS) fortunately with Hodges winning. For the best I suspect as Dog had a private detective following him to ensure his good behaviour in the shape of his brother in law Steve.
N.B. Roger lasted all night. Hurrah.
Day 2
Pool meet 10.22. Hippo is diving like……… well a hippo, though in his head he thinks he is Tom Daley. Who was his
roomy? Surrogate parent? Absence of a number of golfers at meet time and failure of Big nose 1 to appear at all.
Again! Though the appearance of Frank Worthington made up for it. ‘Big nose 1’ not only fails to wear but refuses
to wear a COFB top. IS will make their decision on the expulsion period for him, but as a fellow yiddo, I suspect
he will be granted chairmanship next year instead.
Golf at Espiche for the final time ever. Trial over the pint leaving saga brings Roger and Frank before Hodges. As would be expected ‘The plod’ lied through his remaining teeth and hair and Roger rolled over and had his tummy tickled. Despite 14 totally broken and tortured men there was, as always good bants. Dog having already used his trainer to decant a pint for ‘big nose 1’ made a schoolboy error and ‘Big nose 1’ had already placed his shoe under the chairman’s nose to reciprocate the punishment.
Thus, the Shoe-Jew game or was it the Jew-shoe game, as Bod (Big nose 2) described it 3 times in a different order. This effectively threw gummy under the bus. After his 4th crash and burn he said. “I thought on the 16th tee that Rigsby had taken over my body now Tim Greenwood has taken over my brain”
Dog, sharp as a beachball, suggested that a fellow player’s (loose terminology obviously) adidas gazelles constituted an oxymoron and they should be renamed adidas warthog. ‘Big nose 2’ calls for a shoe off, minus teeth, amidst cries of laughter from all.
We left Espiche for (did I mention it for the last time) and headed for the gay Millwall fans restaurant. Seating was arranged by size of nose with big nose 1 and 2 joining Weirdo (big nose3) and Andy unfairly (big nose 4) on their table for 4. That part of the evening concludes with the shalom song.
Dogs private detective sat outside.
A couple a bars, beers and shorts later and COFB’s legs have gone, thankfully ‘big nose 2’s in benevolent mode and gets him home safely. Roger slips home early.
Day 3
Jerome leaves breakfast early and in a hurry to part company with last night’s meal. The remainder of the tourists began the day with champagne and some cocktails by the pool (did I mention Northern Ireland for next year). Though it has to be said that ¾ of IS were again absent. The term coop was being repeatedly whispered though I may have misinterpreted it as coup. Perhaps next year in Merthyr!
“Aah, the Beluga (COFB) takes its offspring (Hippo) on its inaugural swim” unattributed
Following our splendid morning at the pool, the final round at Penina was again played in beautiful sunshine – the two important positions in COFB ie 1st and last were decided at completely different times in the day. It was clear by the 9th that Rigsby was going to be sweating in a chicken suit. However, at the other end of the field drama was unfolding. Having led from start to finish the Redwood (now also known as WTC as in World Trade Centre: huge in stature but prone to collapse) was, in usual fashion, beginning to fold like a cheap suit with Grandad/weirdo/big nose 3 turning up the heat. After 54 holes of golf their scores were level which speaks volumes of the accuracy and great work of the handicap committee (Sicknote O’Shea).
The first ever playoff on COFB between these 2 giants of the game went to the 2nd extra hole and was a eventually won in dramatic style with a 25 foot downhill putt to make ‘Big nose 3’ the COFB champion for the 2nd time, 27 years after his first triumph at Lyme Regis. A triumphant Grandad/weirdo/big nose 3 was ecstatic whilst the Redwood (AKA Monty, as in ‘never won a major nor minor) was left to rue another collapse. In between all this drama O’Shea took a shit in Roger’s driver head-cover.
Saturday night was spent enjoying more excellent food at ‘No Patio’ followed by more drinking and singing at MJ’s. NM’s constant pestering of the attractive waitress put the meal back for an hour. A harassment suit has apparently been served. Quotes as “its behaviour you would expect from a 15-year-old adolescent” and “is he delusional?” are only two statements that have so far been made public. The remainder of the evening was a blur but thankfully everyone made the bus back to Faro the following morning and all flights back to the UK were occupied.
COFB is always a brilliant trip primarily because of the people involved: comradely, friendship and lots of laughs were again evident in abundance and it’s of course necessary to thank firstly Hodges for his logistical brilliance in organising the trip and secondly Tigs for making it the cheapest COFB trip in living memory for all apart from one of us. On his arrival home there was a slight ‘disturbance’ at Stansted airport when the COFB himself tried to get out of the mid-term car park only to be confronted with a £280 exit charge (on top of the £90 he’d already paid). All of a sudden, the cost-saving extra day didn’t look like such a good idea.
All goals achieved
Held over until next year, punishment for sick note for having missed breakfast, team meet, evening meal, soiling Rogers property etc. though guess there will be the usual cock sucking in the committee rooms of EGC and all will be forgotten
Until next time…
All were present and correct from 2016, save the Love Muscle (on honeymoon), Carlos (attending the Edinburgh whisky festival) and NM who, in keeping with the Seventies theme at least, sent Leicester footballing legend Frank Worthington in his place - though strangely, he also couldn’t hold his beer either.
Hodges and Weirdo again enjoying extra days to acclimatise, met the rest at the airport and it was off to the first round in Penina. Celebrity guest Worthington won the day with 34 but the real shock came when Stephen (eight for one “I’ve buried my ball”, it actually went backwards at Galway) Rigby tamed the course with his magnificent 33 off 30.
The evening festivities took place at the steak house in Alvor, scene of love muscle’s self-immolation the previous year. Here Gummy was elected chair by a very short tooth and the games, including a ritual cake-smearing round, began.
Day 2
After breakfast, the morning was spent by the pool where COFB, resembling a young buck manatee and Hippo, resembling … well a Hippo, were in their element while others enjoyed a respite before the trip to the gorgeous Palmeiras course where Hodges used his Henry Kissinger-like diplomatic skills to eventually get the ageing men of COFB some buggies. Wierdo who may need a full time carer with him next year, left it all out on the course, including the camera and tensions rose as jostling for the climactic final round began.
It was off to Lagos and the world’s worst laid out restaurant in the evening where the high table’s singing selection peaked with “You’re shit and you know you are”, while COFB’s insistence on a rendition of -----/---/-/----/---- plunged the festivities onto a one-way street back 40 years.
The journey was complete with the discovery of Marilyn’s, a back-street bar where ashtrays adorn every table and the alcoholic, chain smoking owner thought she was auditioning for an Xmas special of Love Thy Neighbour.
Day 3
After some more pool therapy, the crucial final round for the trophy began with a lead fourball of Sicknote (enjoying a rare symptom-free weekend). Dog, Hippo and, incredibly, Riggers maintaining his form from the first day. A harshly handicapped Hippo, whose on course behaviour in the first two rounds was exemplary, couldn’t maintain his calm claiming collusion but in the end, with a birdie/birdie finish, Sicknote rolled back the years to take the coveted title for the 5th time.
It was back to Lagos for the evening and the excellent No Patio restaurant where the tour’s most memorable moment; Andy looking a spit for Dick Emery’s 70s goofy vicar sang sloop John B, resplendent with Bod’s teeth in, will remain with all who saw it.
Then it was back to Marilyn’s for more darts and debauchery and a fitting end to the fun. It is only a pity our bodies didn’t travel back in time with us.
P.S. Inevitably, Doughnut was a ginger twat.
‘Special’ golf continued within that same fourball when Dog hooked his first drive into another post code and Russell, who’d managed to get to the 1st green with 2 beautiful strikes proceed to take 7 further putts.
The COFB 25th anniversary tour was always going to be a grand affair – 16 golfers based at classy Penina on the western Algarve, sponsored golf clothing (big thanks to both Hippo and Godfrey) and the usual meticulous planning by Hodges.
Ground rules were set down by Hodges during a splendid beer & sandwich lunch on the terrace at Palmeiras (Carlos, as usual preferred whiskey with his sarnie). Groucho failed a late fitness test on some gout and had to sit out the first round whilst early favourites Hippo, Redwood and Weirdo (Formerly Grandad) slugged it out in the sunshine on the tough first day at Palmeiras.
An excellent dinner that evening at Alvor was followed by more drinking and some serious tiredness (Russell asleep at the table whilst Gummy introduced him to the Nikki Lauda school of hair growth!) The topless pint-off between COFB and Gummy was a tight affair with COFB just edging it.
Day 2 saw (and heard) the arrival of Ginge, back on tour after an absence of 9 years.
Round 2 was played at the very very tricky Espiche course near Lagos. Suffice to say Ginge's stableford points total was never going to surpass his ‘lost ball’ total. Groucho’s gout had been suppressed by an elephant’s dose of co-dydramol and he hit the ground running despite his last round of golf being in Benidorm on COFB last year!
Dinner on Friday night was in Lagos at the very appropriate Restaurant Arribale where we were looked after by our excellent (and slightly camp) host Cockney Ken. Great fish and steak was followed by a memorable inter-table sing-off won quite convincingly by the Catholics on the top table.
By virtue of the fact that we were playing our final round at Penina, Saturday morning was spent leisurely sat around the pool. NM was seen taking flexibility lessons from Sick-note and Bod narrowly won the swimming race (by a long nose). The final round saw early favourites Redwood and Hippo fall away in the home stretch and overtaken by a very calm and focused Godfrey who played with his usual feminine finesse to take the COFB trophy back to Wembley. The doughnut competition was nowhere near as close: Rigsby's new driver (the one with the Spacko setting) didn't let him down and the slightly orange chicken suit fitted Ginge like a glove.
Back to Alvor that evening for another excellent dinner and more drinking.
So, 25 years of great fun golf, loads of laughs and most importantly very special friendship. Can we make it to 30? Let’s give a go!
The Hippo's pre COFB warm-up world tour (where allegedly he played with every top 10 golfer in the universe) paid dividends as he deservedly took the COFB cup back to the Cotswolds. A delighted Tyrone said "I'm so proud of my performance. I've worked really hard to get to this point and I know I can get even better unlike my horse who is due to debut on Blackpool beach next week with the other donkeys" After a few years of near misses Rob managed to finally put 3 consecutive rounds of completely shite golf together and the tiger feet will reside in Rickmansworth for the next 12 months.
Alicante airport was again our landing destination for the 3rd year running where we met up with Nick 'mind the gap' Mathew and the newly-married Nigel. However, instead of heading south to sophisticated Murcia and La Manga, we instead went north to the badlands of Benidorm. Our base (and venue for 36 of our 54 holes) was Melia Villaitana, a beautiful golf resort hotel, nestling in the hills below Mount Mathew, 5 miles north of Benidorm. The resort incorporated a nicely set-up golf course (Levante), slightly spoilt by some average greens.
COFB and Wierdo set the pace in round 1 with a splendid 41 points, with Tiger Redwoods somewhat off the pace with 30. Thursday evening was spent finding our feet (not tiger) in Benidorm. We stumbled upon a decent restaurant where normal proceedings began: Chairman’s half hour followed by the vote for the new chair. Ayatollah Hedge duly took over and things were about to get bad for some.
Friday's golf was at Bonalba, about half an hour away and again a decent track with better greens. Friday proved to be 'moving day' for many in particular, Hippo, going up to 2nd with Wierdo still leading and much fancied and Hodges right on their tail. One person who didn't move was Lozowski, still rock bottom!
Friday evening was spent at the resort where we enjoyed a splendid buffet meal followed by the opening game of the 2015 rugby World Cup between England and Fiji. The Hippo, fully clad in a resplendent Fijian sarong managed to make a spectacle of himself but eventually piped-down as England eased to victory.
The evening ended rather bizarrely with a variation of Bods old shoe-throwing game which involved a bit of beer-throwing followed by a bit of chair throwing. The following morning Nigel and Tyrone had a kiss and a cuddle in the pool and were friends again.
So, onto Saturday. More beautiful sunshine and an opportunity to catch some rays beside the pool before battle commenced at 2.15pm, again on the Levante. The hastily re-arranged 4 and 3 balls weren't required when at around 2pm, and much to the annoyance of Lozowski who sniffed an escape route, Who should turn up? - One very poor decision followed by one very good decision so I suggest we just move on.
Tyrone powered to deserved victory with 38 points and a 54 hole total of 103 points. In second place was Wierdo with 97, 3rd was Hodges With 96.
On Saturday evening we headed for the rather more sedate ‘Old Town’ for dinner where Carlos had booked an excellent Tapas restaurant. More drinking, more singing and general fun ensued. Some great drinking games including names of North American sports teams, 'The Bay City Rollers' didn't quite get beyond our sharp chair and COFB himself was severely punished. We finally managed the “Reverse Buzz, starting on 50” game and the evening finished with COFB facing a noise abatement order from the hotel owner having given another wonderful rendition of ‘The Spaniard that blighted my life”. Some final drinks, stories and songs from the shows back at the hotel before the last sleep and early departure home.
Another excellent trip expertly organised, delivered and managed by Mr Hodges. Maybe the ‘zoo’ that is Benidorm wasn’t quite right for us but perhaps it demonstrated that great friendship, beer, rosé wine and golf are the most important aspects whilst the surrounds are secondary.
Work has already commenced on planning our 25th anniversary tour which will be enlarged to accommodate some old COFB faces who missed out this year. Bring it on !
On Sunday 21st September,2014 twelve American golfers arrived at Edinburgh airport en route to Gleneagles in preparation for the 2014 Ryder cup with their minds firmly set on taking the coveted trophy back to The States. On the same morning, twelve COFB competitors arrived back at Luton airport from Alicante. One, Nick Mathew with the COFB cup in his hand luggage for a record 6th time and another, COFB , wearing a pair of monster feet: COFB had become the doughnut for a record 6th time.
The tour got off to an irritating start with fog delaying our flight out of Luton by 90 minutes. Our subsequent late arrival at Alicante dictated that we'd miss our tee time on the glorious north course and we would have to start COFB 2014 on the bollox that is the West course. Many struggled on the tight fairways and the resulting score range of 33 points (Tyas), 16 points (Rigsby) down to 11 points (COFB) told a story.
Dinner on Thursday night was at the splendid Via Romana in Los Belones where everyone ate and drank to their hearts content. The Chairman’s half hour was a fine affair with many misdemeanours coming to the table, most notably the 'Corfu kid' Pearson choosing a stag weekend ahead of COFB in 2012 and Hodges 'fessing up' to his first clerical error in 23 years (airport meet time). Abbott’s scurrilous, scandalous and deeply insubordinate attempt to rename the Inner Sanctum (to Inner Wanctum)was crushed quickly and without fuss - his subsequent punishment has convinced him that it was a disrespectful and rather silly idea which won’t be repeated. The evening ended in 'The last Drop' with a constant flow of ghastly shots to help the boys sleep.
Friday was a glorious day - blue skies and a light breeze were perfect conditions for good scoring and several of the boys took full advantage on the far more pleasurable, but by no means perfect South course. Johnny Tyas (The Canadian Redwood, don’t you know), Nigel and Bod all fared well. At the other end of the scoreboard things were looking bleak for COFB with just 22 points and Rob just 23 points. This meant that the final round would see 5 players within 2 shots of each at the top of the leader board and COFB, in need of the round of his life, bringing up the rear.
Friday afternoon was spent drinking by the pool, followed by another brilliant night at La Finca restaurant. A special mention must go to Andy Howe who, due to a very sad family bereavement, missed the first day of the trip. His arrival on Friday evening was met with much emotion and encapsulated everything that COFB stands for: heart-warming friendship, tradition and true commitment - awesome performance Andy, it was great to have you on-board.
A wonderful meal was followed by a short court session which included a 24 hour gagging order on Tyas (observed for 24 minutes) and a splendid sing-song with COFB himself taking centre stage with a classic rendition of "Alphonso Spagoni - The Spaniard that blighted my life". Another amusing highlight from Friday night was trying to decipher a very very intoxicated Bod talking Swahili at 3 o'clock in the morning.
So onto the final round - some may wish to stop reading at this juncture. Tyas (now known as Jean Van Der Tyas) required a 6 up the 18th to win his first major (he took a 7 and may never recover). Hanlon showed great fighting spirit to draw level with Mathew after 54 holes only to be robbed on the 'count-back'…and the sad inevitability of the monster feet residing in a garage in Ickenham for the next 12 months came to fruition.
Saturday night was another cracker involving a good meal at 'Mulligans' followed by a big session in 'TPB' and some sore, stiff hips being loosened-up on the dance floor.
So in summary, well done NM (might need to re-acquaint himself with the R&A rules section 48, paragraph 4 regarding “Free-drops’ and ‘Improving one’s lie’) , hard lines COFB, top work Andy and huge thanks Hodges (with a little help from Rigsby) for his organisational genius in bringing COFB 2014 together.
It has been 6 years since the 12 COFB disciples have toured continental Europe but when COFB himself hit on an awesome deal to La Manga there was only going to be one destination. Located in the seaside area of Murcia, La Manga is a world renowned luxury golfing destination comprising a 5 star hotel, some great restaurants and 2 very good golf courses (plus 1 very shite one).
After 18 Years of competing in the competition Connolly finally managed to get his hands on the coveted trophy although we're still negotiating an insurance deal with Legal & General because of the astronomical cost of the artefact being in Speke for 12 months. COFB appeared troubled with both his rather badly timed illness (redlegitis) and the technological advancements of Rigsby's 'Shake and vac' app on his iPhone which was used arrange the initial Fourball groupings. Needless to say, he reverted to pen and paper on day 2. Sadly COFB's tour was to be adversely affected by the illness which meant he couldn't drink. However, his worst pain came when Howe, in an act of magnificent retaliation, managed to inflict the most painful of blows to COFB by convincing the incumbent chairman (Rigsby) that he should dock COFB 6 months in the COFB roll-call. He was mortified!
Trees and ravines were in abundance on the north course on day 1 and when Bod incurred a double violation of hitting a tree before dropping into the Ravine he became Tree Ravino!
Early runners after the first 18 holes on the North course were COFB on 40 points, followed closely by Hodges and Nige on 38 and 37 respectively. Paddy Power and Ladbrokes had stopped taking bets on the huge pre tournament favourite Tyas so it was no surprise that he was also in the mix.
Bottom of the pack on the first day was again full of WD3 postcodes so the huge session that was to follow in Mulligans wasn't going to help the Massiv. The piano bar was in full swing until the very early hours and COFB 2013 had started!
Bright warm sunshine welcomed us on day 2. Additional focus was required when it was announced that the lowest stable ford score of the day would be presented with the ”Peter Stringfellow” leopard skin thong ( to be worn by the pool for the afternoon drinking session) It fitted Bod like a glove and he received several rounds of applause from the other hotel guests.
The West course was very fiddly and rather disappointing and 'moving day' sorted the wheat from the chaff. Up front were Connolly, O'Shea, Hodges and COFB whilst bringing up the rear were Bod, Rigsby, NM and the Hippo. Afternoon activities by the pool included a medley swimming race which included a Paralympic back stroke leg.
Friday night was very very funny: La Finca restaurant was the perfect al fresco venue for some great food including the pork belly with a hint of apple (iPhone) and loads of drink. After a crazy musical chairs session the evening finished with the regular clientele sipping their Napoleon brandy whilst Bod and Abbott had a naked fight in the pool. So, back to the piano bar for more alcohol and a bit of dancing.
Saturday was still warm but it brought dull skies and a serious risk of rain. The South course was excellent and there was definite feel of edginess in the air. COFB and O'Shea were rowing about who should pick up the buggy and the hippo was sulking about another lost bet. The course was undoubtedly the best of the 3 and despite a late surge by Howe who blobbed the last 4 holes, the chicken suit was on its way back to its spiritual home in WD3 courtesy of Rigsby. There was also drama surrounding a count-back for the Borat Mankini and the thong. Holian escaped, Howe and COFB didn't.
A rather average evening meal followed at La Rusticana but the drink was soon to take over and another visit to the Piano bar got the team going again.
Sundays 6 pm flight out of Alicante was about 3 hours too late but we didn't have much else to moan about on yet another brilliant trip. Well done COFB on sourcing this marvellous deal and week done to Hodges for his military precision in delivering the logistics.
We may never see the COFB cup again now that it's in Merseyside but the memory of our time in La Manga will stay for years.
At around 6.20pm on Saturday 29th September O'Shea tapped his ball into the 18th hole at Kinsale golf club to register his 4th Major victory by a healthy 10 points. It looked at one point that the result was going to be close but his power, patience and precision (not preparation) up the home stretch proved too much for Hanlon, Mathew and Bod and he eventually won the coveted trophy at a stroll.
Thirty minutes later, on the same green, in rapidly fading light the situation was slightly more dramatic: COFB and Lozowski had somehow conspired to arrive on the 18th tee on exactly the same (and completely pathetic) 53 hole score of 56 points. Two solid drives up the par 5 were followed by 2 very adequate long irons to set up an intriguing 'pitch and putt off' over the pond in front of the 18th green. Now in near darkness COFB thinned his pitch 30 yards beyond the flag whilst Dog flicked a clumsy lob wedge to 20 feet. The watching gallery, expecting COFB to thin his 4th back into the water, were instead treated to an exquisitely delicate chip that left him with a tough but makeable 6 footer to half the match. Sadly though for COFB the putt slipped by the hole and the 2012 donut attire, a resplendent and nicely fitting banana suit was on its way back to Ickenham.
The fear of hurricane Cinders (which turned out to be no more than a quiet fart in the North Atlantic) had abated when the 11 strong COFB group from London arrived at Cork Airport on an overcast but mild Thursday (Connolly landed at around the same time on his flight from Manchester) Waiting at Cork airport was our hilarious and very likeable driver Jimmy who was with us all weekend. A quick stop at The White Lady hotel and then a short drive to the magnificent Old Head links.
On the way to Old Head, we played “guess the number of balls in the golf bags of Tyrone, Jerome and Rigsby”. It was likely, given the reputation of Old Head, that people would have stocked up and true enough they had – Jerome had 24 balls (many more than forecast) and Rigsby had 48 (including two new boxes of 12!). Tyrone, lost two of the three guesses – he just managed to not come last when guessing those in his bag - and paid appropriately in drinks fines later.
We’d all seen internet images of Old Head GC but when we arrived it was at another level… everything about the place oozed class: The tees, greens and fairways were awesome, the views were just stunning and the service was first class – they made us feel like they genuinely wanted us there!
Fortunately the wind was kind and the points spread of 30 points (Jerome) to 12 points (COFB) displayed what could/couldn’t be done. Afterwards COFB presided over chairman's half hour, where the major event was a long awaited hearing for Mathew who was found guilty of gross misconduct, dereliction of duty and an attempt to pervert the course of justice for losing the COFB cup. He was given an interim fine whilst the assembled decided his fate later that night.
After the chairman's half hour, came the vote-off for new chair. The usual shenanigans meant that a pint off between Nigel and Rigsby ensued which was won by Rigsby after the 2nd pint following an unbelievable a dead heat with the 1st. Rigsby, unbelievably handed over the chairmanship straight away which has been noted for next year!
Thursday evening was the usual nonsense with a great meal at the hotel and a good, lengthy games session. Mathew paid for his heinous crime by drinking at least a bottle of wine through the 'glasses of truth', supplied by Nige.
Friday morning bought more good weather: Sunshine and even less wind meant we enjoyed Old Head at its absolute finest. O'Shea and Hanlon pulled away with Bod and NM in close pursuit. Tyas, Howe, Holian and Abbott all played good, steady golf whilst Lozowski and COFB continued to deliver mediocrity. The low point of Friday’s golf was a sad incident when Connolly, in attempt to retrieve his wayward ball slipped and fell off a very sharp stone wall and ripped his hand open. This was the last we'd see of Nigel's awesome ball-striking because he had to retire to the bar and drink left-handed for 2days.
Friday night was another cracking COFB evening and thanks must go to Tyrone for covering the cost of dinner on his 51st birthday. Games including "expressionless whiskey drinking" and "running away from Susan Boyle" kept the magnificent 12 amused and it wasn't long before everyone was trolleyed. The live music in the pub later had everyone rocking and in good form.
Saturday morning was a sedate affair with a mixture of walking, sight-seeing and coffee by the harbour keeping the chaps busy. On the journey to Kinsale golf club, Bod, rather irritatingly managed to get Jimmy to divert the bus to take in some seriously dull and boring landmark - he will be dealt with accordingly next time we meet. Kinsale golf club was exactly what was required on Saturday. Wide open fairways and a lovely downhill opening hole of 350 yards. O'Shea smashed his drive to 260 yards dissecting the fairway in the process. We were all delighted to hear he took 5 further shots to eventually put the ball in the hole!
Saturday night was again, a cracking night which started with another excellent dinner at the White Lady followed by a rather foolish "sing-off" challenge from the Waterville wobblers. The result was inevitable annihilation by the COFB boys after a superb rendition of "Oh Evaline" by COFB and Howe left Boyley and co. with nowhere to turn! Our VIP passes into the White Lady nightclub later, ensured we could fully enjoy the last knockings of our final evening, and not have to worry about finding our way home after a skinfull. At 3.30am, a rather giddy Howe phoned and woke COFB to tell him that he and Mathew had barricaded the entrance into the hotel and he must come down from his bed to see the evidence. Tyrone was outside and getting rather irate, so some diplomacy was used by COFB and the two pranksters meekly agreed to take down the barricade before Tyrone turned into the hulk, charged the door and carried out his promise to demolish the hotel. Finally quiet ... then bed and sweet final dreams for all the tourists.
The rain arrived on cue on Sunday morning as we packed our bags and set off for Cork airport. This hugely enjoyable trip, with much laughter and a little pain for Nige, will test the 2013 organising committee (to be decided at the next IS meeting) to keep up the standard
The '20 years of hurt' anniversary COFB tour to Dorset was another wonderful trip which ended with glory for Mathew, his 5th with a very solid 95 points and pain for COFB, his 4th with a paltry (or poultry) 74 points.
It all started so well for COFB on Thursday morning with a magnificent inaugural drive at the 1st at Came Down. However, it finished with him 'spitting feathers' on Saturday afternoon at the Isle of Purbeck as the chicken suit didn't return to its normal WD1 postcode but came home to roost in UB10 instead.
This celebration tour was a huge success and great fun for all 13 competitors plus Mike Lozowski and Basil who dipped in for rounds at Came Down and Remedy Oak respectively. Big thank you to both (and Doris) for everything.
We met for breakfast at Came Down golf club near Dorchester on the Thursday morning where the weather was fine and sunny. Following a swift early pint the official tour polo shirts were presented and new COFB participants Carl and Mike were introduced and welcomed into the group...and then the battle commenced. The course proved to be good fun despite some dodgy greens. Howe returned an awesome 42 to make the early running with new boy Carl not far behind with a very creditable 38 (which included 8 4's in a row on his card) The super heavyweight pairing of Tyas and Connolly both played some solid golf whilst Rigsby and COFB bought up the rear with 24 and 25 points respectively. After golf we returned to East Cottage for some pre dinner drinks and for Abbo to take an unplanned 'dip' in the swimming pond.
The gala dinner at The White Horse was a grand affair. We were welcomed by our landlady and host the delightfully curvaceous Cassie and the lager and strongbow began to flow. The evening got better when Jed arrived with his wife Julie to join in the fun. Great food was followed by a few drinking games and the evening was rounded off with a throwback to yesteryear as Andy strummed his guitar while we all sang some old songs. Bod’s teeth came out at 10.15 as he prepared for a memorable duet with Julie.
Friday morning was bright and breezy and we started the day with a group dip in the pond. Breakfast was at the local Little Chef (which served an unusual peppered coffee) after which we headed north-east to the magnificent Remedy Oak golf course in Horton courtesy of Basil (top man!). Despite a deluge just prior to tee-off we had a cracking day on this very special course. By the end of the round, the final groups were emerging with Nick, Tyrone and Andy leading the group, a bunch chasing them comprising John, Nigel, Carl, Bod and Rob and the doughnuts made up of Ian, Jerome, Rigsby and COFB (who was trailing by 7 and starting to look rather sugary) Lozowski’s rant on the par 5 15th following his pathetic duffed chip into the stream was heard in Exeter. A few drinks were had at Remedy Oak before we headed down to Bournemouth for the evening festivities.
After settling in at the Wessex hotel, a wonderful dinner was had at the excellent Patrick’s Bar in Ashley Cross, with fine wines (courtesy of a Tyrone’s successful gambling exploits, cheers Hippo!) and delightful service from the staff there. Some light dancing on the floor completed the night and it was back to the hotel for some late night discussions and attempted ‘drink spiking’ to gain advantage prior to the last day.
Saturday morning included a very pleasant walk down to the beach, a traditional ‘dash and splash’ into the sea and some pathetic ‘head tennis’ in the water. A total of 10 consecutive headers is NOT acceptable and we all need to take a long hard look at ourselves before next year!
The Isle of Purbeck awaited, and what a test it was. In fine but windy conditions Nick pulled away for victory with a total of 95 points, edging out Hippo (92) and Andy (91), whilst Rigsby delivered the best round of the day with 32 points to hoist himself right up the leaderboard. COFB, despite a ‘plucky’ 28 points was a comfortable last.
So it was back to Ashley Cross and Le Bateau Bar for early drinks and again to Patrick’s for more frolics and dancing with Chicken George (COFB looking more like big red rooster) strutting his thang on the dance floor. On a slightly concerning note, the antics of some COFB members on the dance floor with the Saga holiday group ( they were the ones drinking Cinzano and smelling of urine) was wrong, a low point for all of us and something that shouldn't be mentioned nor repeated in future.
Back to the hotel for final tour night reflections and a slice of Abbo's 'tampered' COFB birthday cake before the forecasted weekend’s rain started falling ... and not stopping till we were all home the next day and thinking just how lucky we all were.
Well done Hodges for your meticulous planning and preparation, the tour ran like clockwork- there’s little doubt now that you're wasted in IT and that you belong in a high-viz jacket as a car park attendant.
20 years of hurt? You betcha ... but they’ll all be back for more next year – a little older, a little larger and a little greyer.
He has finally done it! After what seems an eternity of grief and ridicule COFB has finally removed the biggest monkey ever from his back and has won the trophy that was named in his honour nearly 20 years ago…so what else was going on at that time?
• The Premier league was only just formed
• John Major, Boris Yeltsin and George Bush lead their respective countries
• The Queen describes this year as an Annus Horribilus
• Average house price was £67k
• A pint of beer was £1.16 (give or take 50p when served by Les in The White Horse)
The golf courses of the Wirral can be vicious and unforgiving in July – strong winds and quick, undulating greens can undo a good card in an instance. But this wasn’t the case when our tidy group of 10 COFB golfers headed north to play some golf and have some fun. Leasowe Castle hotel (now renamed COFB Castle) was base for the tour and proved perfect with easy access to the beach and a good sized lawn for footy.
Two excellent courses, Wallasey and Caldy, plus 1 ‘only ok’ course (Bromborough) were brought to their knees by the swashbuckling, super-slick COFB who manufactured and shaped shots to suit the conditions.
Russell started proceedings on the Thursday afternoon at the beautiful Wallasey links – Hodges and COFB both scored well (35 points) and led the field after the 1st day with the Hippo bringing up the rear on 23 points. After golf, ‘Chairs ½ hour’ culminated in the vote for 2010 chairman. Skullduggery was in the air and Hodges ended up ‘in power’ after some scandalous vote-counting which made the recent Iran election look like a democratic process. Handicap adjustments for Bod and Russell (much to the displeasure of the Hippo) were followed by a good meal at Wallasey GC. We had a pleasant but relatively quiet night in Hoylake ending with the compulsory COFB kebab at around midnight.
More calm weather greeted us on Friday morning which started with breakfast and some football on the hotel lawn. A 20 minute cab ride to Caldy GC followed where we enjoyed a great round on a very picturesque course set on the banks of the river Dee. The points were mounting up for the leaders Holian, Tyas, COFB and Sage (or Chairman’s Pet as he has now been named) whilst everyone else were scratching around for the odd point here and there. The evening fun started at Albert Dock with a lovely meal and a rather unique ‘chairman’s wine tasting’ session where the warm Pino Grigio got the vote. Then onto the Grapes pub (reminiscent of the Mos Eisley bar in Star Wars) followed by ‘Flares’ nightclub where the boys cut some shapes and got those old, soon to be replaced in some cases, snake-hips moving.
So onto the business end of proceedings: Saturday was another calm day which started with another game of footie with diminished numbers due to injury (Abbo’s back, Jon’s toe, Russell’s ribs) This was followed by some naked sun-bathing, a refreshing swim in the sea and some salt-water line-out drills where Mathew couldn’t catch a cold. Ian’s back was getting worse and sadly led to his retirement from the competition. However, he was replaced by another heavyweight in local-boy Nige who was to join us for the day’s golf and evening’s activities.
Despite being in rather poor condition, the set-up at Bromborough GC suited a dog-fight at the top and bottom. COFB kept his nerve to record his famous victory whilst the Hippo capitulated and joined the ignoble ranks of the doughnut club (he also fell down a hole whilst looking for his ball on the 18th.
Celebration ensued with beer, sambuca and wine all flowing freely at Albert Dock and later into the night. The ‘Flares Five’ comprising COFB, Bod, Hippo, Nigel and Russell managed to be the last men standing in the club at 3.30am and then continued until 6.30am at COFB Castle. A truly great performance men!... very well done.
Everything about COFB 2010 was excellent and won’t be forgotton in a hurry particularly as the trip has been encapsulated by the tour song written and produced by the new champ himself:
“It's coming home, It's coming home, It's coming- COFB's coming home (x4)
Everyone seems to know the score, They've seen it all before
They just know, They're so sure
That COFB's gonnaThrow it away, Gonna blow it away
But I know he can play, Cos' I remember
Three times the doughnut, COFB Cup still gleaming
19 Years of hurt, Never stopped him dreaming
So many jokes, so many jeers, But all those oh so nears
Wore him down, Through the years
But I see Abbott, hanging off doors, Jed puking on floors
Rob shanking the ball, and Cinders smiling
Beer stains on his shirt, COFB Cup still gleaming
19 Years of hurt, Never stopped him dreaming
I know that was then, But it could be again
It's coming home, It's coming home, It's coming, COFB's coming home (x4)
Beer stains on his shirt, COFB Cup still gleaming
19 Years of hurt, Never stopped him dreaming”
(repeat to fade)
Ten people turned up at Haywards Heath on Thursday – Nick, Nigel, Kev, COFB, Andy, Russell, Drew, Rigsby, Tyrone and Bod – henceforth known as the “Thursday-Ten”. The weather was kind, with blue skies greeting us. The best scores recorded were Russell with 38 points, Tyrone with 35 and COFB and Andy each with 34. Other scores were quite reasonable, and no handicap adjustments were deemed necessary for the following day.
We set off for Brighton straight after prize giving and settled in at The Kings Hotel, which was quite acceptable for our needs including a handy late bar. Local guide, Dave Radcliffe was on hand to show us the ropes and we firstly took in the Lion & Lobster pub – a great venue for the early evenings, which we visited on all 3 days. We took our evening meal at the lively Alfresco restaurant, where an interesting phone-in with question master Ian Abbott, returned Tyrone as this year’s chairman. After dinner, it was off to RDK bar, where everyone ended up quite the worse for wear, although it was best remembered for the “wheel-of-fortune” drinking game, where Radcliffe suffered several times as the loose hand/pointer mysteriously, but regularly, came to rest on the the 6pm position – his given spot on the wheel – something to do with a subtle screwdriver adjustment loosening the hand, no doubt! A lively debate was also had, discussing golfing sanctions on the “Friday-Four” – the latecomers on tour arriving tomorrow. It was then back to the hotel for some final beers before bed - Russ and Bod outlasting everyone naturally, both staying up till 5am, talking drivel.
Saturday truly got under way at breakfast, where the Friday-Four - Jerome, Jon, Ian and Rob were initially ignored - as previously agreed, then accepted onto the tour, and were told of their handicap adjustments for the day and given a further ten point handicap to count towards their overall doughnut score. They were not especially happy, but they accepted this minor irritation with grace and prepared themselves for battle.
The full complement of 14 set off for the West Hove golf club with the weather looking iffy and with hopes high for a good showing on the course. Hilly going, crap greens and some inclement weather meant that scoring was not good, with one exceptional round from Russell apart ( 41 points) - quite amazing c onsidering the rain, cold and his pre-match preparation. Rigsby with 32 was next best with Kev, ensuring that they would be in the first 3 ball on Saturday, contesting the cup. Surely, Tyrone’s 3 for 2 offer was now looking a cert. to pay out. Meanwhile, down at the bottom end, only one of the Friday-Four, Jon, – managed to extricate himself from Davy’s doughnuts, at the expense of Bod, who returned a miserable 22 points. Everyone suffered with 3 putting, on the crap greens which tested their patience, with COFB regularly cursing and on one occasion, telling Tyrone in a deep and frosty voice to “LEAVE IT THERE” after Tyrone reached down to pick up COFB’s putter cover for him in a supportive gesture as they were walking off the green after another hideous 3 putt.
We took in some post match revelry at West Hove, including a traditional games session, where Russell and Drew’s Fizz Buzz performance had to be seen to be believed, it was that bad – some said it made Tim Greenwood look like a candidate for University Challenge by way of comparison!
Then, it was back to Brighton where, we again took early evening beers at the Lion & Lobster, then to various pubs in Brighton centre, and finally back to the hotel bar to round off of the day’s activities. Russell and Bod again took advantage of the late bar to discuss their golfing tactics for the following day’s play, late into the night.
Saturday, and the weather was fine for our trip up to Ditchling and the Mid-Sussex golf club. All drives off the first tee were good with the exception of Jon who first topped his ten yards, then pulled his second shot horribly, but fought back to score 6 and earn a point – just the sort of commitment which would be needed for the long day ahead.
Up front, suitably “unrefreshed” and playing off a new handicap of 18, Russell was storming away to maintain his considerable lead, whilst Rigsby was feeling the pressure of playing in the top group for the Cup and scratching his way around the course – on one occasion so far off the hole he was playing that COFB somewhat bemused, remarked “What are you looking for, Steve” – his reply “what do you think”, putting COFB firmly in his place.
At the back-end, the doughnut dogfight was turning into a classic with all parties looking sugary at various points during the round. The leading groups were all interested to hear on their progress, with some reports coming back that Jerome, the man himself – who 20 years ago graced Troon in the British Open – was staring at last position at the turn.
Finally, matters were resolved with Russell a runaway winner with 75 points overall (34 today), some 11 points ahead of the field. Joint-Second places were taken by Kev and Nick with a score of 64. The doughnut was taken by Ian, with Jerome ever so close – same score but scraping through by virtue of a better back 9. If he had not played for a 5 on the last, or subsequently lost in a chip-off, the popular rumour has it that he would have hung up his golf shoes. As it was, someone did this for him anyway.
As is often the way on COFB Saturday, there was already skullduggery going on, with a perfect set-up at the post match meal. Someone had smuggled a red coloured bottle of hand cleaner into the spike bar with the objective of getting some poor bugger to use it instead of Tomato Sauce. The bottle could pass off as a legitimate sauce bottle, but first, labels had to be stripped off, and the bottle placed strategically on a dining table. Now COFB, unsuspectingly arriving into the room, was called over in a friendly way by Dog and invited to join him at his table. COFB was offered the bottle and he tried and tried to make the thing work, holding it right over his nice looking meal, whilst repeatedly trying to depress the plunger, getting redder and redder with the effort – however, he narrowly avoided disaster as the plunger failed to activate properly, the landlady saw everyone laughing hysterically, realized what was going on and retrieved the bottle from COFB, running off saying “you very stupid boys” or words very similar.
Saturday night was enjoyed in the usual style, with the highlight being 3 thrashes on the bottom for Ian, as he straddled the bonnet of a Ford Fiesta in the Chicken outfit. This was administered at the hands of a young lady out on her hen-night, strutting around in dominatrix gear, complete with a nasty looking whip. He then elected not to reveal his face when asked to do so by her friends, for fear of the possible adverse publicity.
Later on Saturday night, Russell and Tyrone were lost in Brighton so went up to some people and asked “Do you know the way to ‘My Hotel’?” (n.b. the venue called exactly that) – the response came back – “Fuck off you gay wankers”
Apart from Russell’s wonderful victory, the final note must go to Tyrone, who enjoyed no success in virtually all his betting exploits over the weekend – the ignominious highlight being that of settling his last bet which was with Jerome after the final round “How many points did you get, Jerome --------- I got 30?” . Jerome’s reply “31 ----------- Its that sort of weekend, Son”
Oh well …. there’s always next year!
An early flight out of terminal 5 and late morning breakfast meet at The Old Clubhouse - Gullane meant that between the hours of 6-11am, Hanlon only managed to fit in 3 breakfasts.
Calm conditions allowed for some good scoring and 'Hanlon’s tote' looked comfortable when an unbacked Rigsby, playing off 36, came in with 45 points, a COFB record for an individual round. The largely unfancied Matthew was next in with a sound 38 points - however, the heavily backed Evans started well and was causing some concern for the hippo on the lower holes amongst the mud flats. Meanwhile down at the business end of the table, a 'foot blistered' Howe was looking exposed to the chicken/tiger feet combo with 18 points, as was Bod with a rather untidy 23 points.
The session in the bar after the first round is always lively and the exiting chairman Connelly’s half hour concluded with a thrilling 'grape-off' between Dog and Bod. This ended in victory and chairmanship for the latter following some extremely accurate grape throwing under intense pressure as darkness descended.
The Tailors Hall hotel was our base again for the trip and Friday morning hangovers were made slightly more bearable as we were greeted by another glorious late summer’s day. North Berwick GC was looking equally stunning despite the temporary clubhouse (a shitty portakabin) and the people (just shitty).
Normal service was resumed with Rigsby coming in with 17 points. Bod, Connolly and Tyas also had difficulties whilst Howe, having discarded his new Adidas golf shoes in favour of a pair of old trainers, managed to work his way out of danger. Connolly, Pearson and Lozowski were all spotted on the beach whilst Matthew paid heavily in the bar for a ‘double wall’ violation.
At the top of the leader board Abbott (twice a previous winner) and GD (Inaugural winner -1992), were locking horns along with Matthew and Holian emerging from the mix. After having been chucked out (with possibly a sine die ban) from North Berwick we made our way back westwards along the Firth of Forth to Edinburgh for a very lively night out – but not before the coach journey was made interesting with Hanlon and Abbott’s re-enactment of Oliver Reed and Alan Bates’ semi-naked fight in “Women in Love” and Maurice’s now-traditional toothless sing-a-long.
We entered ‘The Jam House’ on Friday evening without queuing, primarily because there wasn’t a queue (i.e. nothing to do with Russ’s pre-arranged fast track VIP entry!). Regular vodka and Sambuca shots ensured a good turn out on the dance floor from the COFB boys, particularly the big man himself who was spotted ‘quick stepping’ with an orc.
Saturday morning came very quickly and before we knew it we were heading out to play our 3rd and final round at The Glen GC. Howe’s feet had deteriorated and his participation was in doubt. However the ‘Dunkirk spirit’ demonstrated by COFB last year through his illness was repeated and Howe played the final round in flip flops, amassing an impressive array of 41 points to steer himself well clear of trouble.
A titanic struggle at the top of the leader board involving GD, and Abbott (plus COFB himself, emerging strongly from the next group) was finally resolved with Abbott scoring sufficiently to pip GD and COFB by just 3 points. The more important issue of doughnut was far clearer with Bod capitulating under the pressure and ending up an undisputed last – The chicken suit was calling/clucking and fitted well.
A hilarious final evening, helped by the arrival of Ginge, included a great tour dinner comprising steak, wine, beer and a high-altitude shoe throwing game which was curtailed (not by us!) for health and safety reasons. Travel to The Jam House later was by Rickshaw (what else!) – a very slow process bearing in mind a combined w eight of circa 55 stone, with only a nine stone rider to power this load.
More drinking (all), dancing (all) and bullshit (Coops) made for another superb evening. The homeward journey back to the hotel became disparate with Hanlon, unable to get a cab, finding himself solo in a rickshaw, having to pretend to be asleep whilst getting some stick from the locals walking along and shouting things like “get out and walk you fat bastard” – they have a point!
So COFB 08 had come to a close - another superb trip expertly organised by COFB. Next year, we will probably seek out new pastures, as you can only take so much political correctness and dealings with the Krankies - most of the bar staff and pub security people we seemed to met.
COFB ’09 will surely seek to go somewhere where we may be more appreciated by the locals – and this could be a challenge!
The beautifully situated Hotel Baía was to be our base for the trip with our opening round at the very tight Oitavos golf club. Evans made the early pace with a tidy 36 points. After a good meal and a few beers at the golf club we managed to leave Coops at the golf club but rather foolishly spent the remainder of our 1st evening in O'Flaherty’s (just like the one in north harrow) drinking Guinness and brandy cocktails!
However, the unveiling of the doughnut attire (The chicken) had taken place and suddenly everyone became slightly more focussed on their golfing short-comings with a view to improving over the next two days.
Fun was had in the hotel pool on Friday morning with a swimming relay race. Holian took a considerable lead into the 3rd leg, but his impression of a one-legged blind frog, crashing into the side wall caused much laughter and also turned his team’s certain victory into ignominious defeat!
Golf on day 2 took us to Estoril: another fine day and another fine course but a desperate lack of fine golf from the group of ‘developing doughnuts’ that included Rigsby, Howe, Sage and Connolly. A quality 'shoe game' followed, the result of which was decided by a very wet putt-off at dusk between Holian and Lozowski as the green was in the process of being sprinkled. Again, we somehow managed to leave Coops at the golf club.
The Friday evening was very lively following a good meal complete with serenading guitar player. Inevitably it ended up very similar in structure to the year before in that we all got very drunk again- Coops met his next wife (again) and Jerome’s pesky shoe was installed on top of a 20 foot statue – courtesy of the 6 foot 7 geoff, standing on top of the 6 foot 6 Connelly to reach up and place said object. Jerome in vain tried to throw stones to dislodge the shoe but to no avail.
Later on, a few of the guys stumbled across a club where a top Portuguese water company were running a product launch event. Not being slow on the uptake, the lads performed their marketing duties to perfection - various COFB lads could be spotted dotted around the event with their unique style including unconventional clothing, drink in left hand, pinkie perked, and Rigsby smoking. Howe & Holian met the CEO and Marketing Director to promote the COFB subsidiary Aqua G (water,… with a hint of Ginger {note – nothing to do with coop}). Contacts were made, visits planned, but when rumbled, unfortunately our lads’ business cards were left back at the hotel. COFB decided to leave when Coop realized the sushi had not been cooked and was mortified when the chef refused to cook it!
So, to the final round of COFB 07 at the very beautiful Penha Longa golf club. COFB showed true COFB spirit by battling against a seriously debilitating illness to post 19 points, Coops opened his big gambling gob again and lost 90 Euros, Evans managed to hold off a stiff challenge from O'Shea to take the trophy for the 1st time and Rigsby became a very comfortable doughnut - also, quite extraordinarily, his 1st time.
England’s win in the rugby world cup semi final was momentous on Saturday night (made all the better by the presence of the Jean-Francois Hippo Hanlon) as was the 6 foot chicken telling the 5 year old kid to 'fu*k off and leave me alone' in the town square.
All in all another great COFB trip.
A good night sleep was followed by the slightly longer coach trip along the ‘Firth of Forth’ to the very traditional, very elegant and very friendly ‘North Berwick Golf Club’. Even the news of the ‘sad loss’ from the previous evening couldn’t dampen the spirits of the 16 competitors and the battle commenced in good, bright conditions. ‘Wall’ and ‘car’ avoidance were the order of the day and Lozowski managed to find both with his hideous hook off the 1st tee!..- he wasn’t alone though and 5 hours later there were many taking ‘fine wine’ as a result of their inadequacies. A magnificent 43 points from Mathew, playing off 10 (yeah right!) basically finished off the tournament as a competition after only 36 holes, however things were hotting up at the ‘business end’ of the scoreboard with Howe, Russell ‘the shudder’ Pearson, Greg ’66 gross’ Evans and the Hippo all within 5 points of each other: Davy’s Doughnuts were in place for the final 18 holes tomorrow!
A memorable meal of ‘Haddock and Steak’ was taken at North Berwick with an equally memorable crumbage-ridden ‘cake-off’ between Hanlon and Matthew. Lozowski drank enough ‘fine wine’ to water the inhabitants of a small African nation and the evening’s festivities commenced with a great sing-song on the coach home. Bod’s toothless rendition of ‘Roll a Silver Dollar’ was worth the journey on its own. Things were about to get even better; a suggestion that ‘The Jam House’ might be a good evening venue saw a convoy of rickshaws hurtling down ‘Princes street’ toward the establishment in question (I understand that the rider of the rickshaw that delivered Jones, Tyas and Rigsby lost consciousness on arrival and sadly passed away that evening). ‘The Jam House’ didn’t disappoint with the Cage ‘topping the bill’ on stage for 10 minutes with the band (I can’t quite comprehend how such a wonderfully talented drummer can be so totally uncoordinated when it comes to clapping his hands and tapping his knees in the ‘numbers’ game!)
The final chapter in the COFB 2006 golf challenge came at ‘Craigielaw golf club’ on Saturday. Beautiful sunshine, tiger feet on the 1st tee and very little wind greeted the competitors – the only irritant was the appearance at around 3.30 of a large ginger head in a golf cart. Coops had arrived and was audible from all corners of the course. Pearson managed to continue his bad form and was eventually a very comfortable last. The Tiger feet were handed over by a relieved Bod, they fitted perfectly and yet again they managed to ‘weave their charm’ that evening for the ‘Shudder’ Yet another excellent ‘Haddock’ meal at Craigielaw was followed by a final session of games and another memorable shoe throwing competition, comfortable won by the Haddocks. Holian enjoyed some uniquely ‘distilled’ fine wine at his very own private ‘cheese and wine’ party and then it was back into town for more festivities.
Another excellent trip, meticulously planned and executed by COFB himself (his first useful contribution in 15 years) Congratulations to Matthew (2006 COFB winner) and Pearson (2006 COFB doughnut) – COFB 2006 will certainly go down in the annals as one of the best to date!
New tourists Greg, Cage & Russ slotted in superbly - all adding value with their lively behaviour in good COFB tradition. Famous drummer Mick in particular, entertained many both inside and outside COFB with his live performance together with associated & interesting running commentary. 2005 was also the year of the fair-chair with Nigel taking office after a dodgy vote and an exciting double pint-off with Maurice. The “fair” tag was later removed as he adopted a more dictatorial and cruel approach. Lozowski’s out of bounds in the shoe game was as hilarious as it was unfancied – his normal steady game deserting him as an approaching car’s headlamps caused him to overreach and hoyke one right at the car.
One potential nasty incident – a buggy being piloted by O’Shea and Tyas went out of control on a wet steep hill and careered into a tree. Luckily for him, O’Shea abandoned the vehicle and control of the steering wheel early, leaving Tyas to the gods. Said Buggy was destroyed and Tyas, somewhat dazed - but otherwise ok, slowly recovered his poise.
The highly recommended “Michael Collins” bar proved massively overrated and so too, Barcelona for this type of trip, although it must be said that once we found the harbour and the right kind of bars – this was not the case. All agreed that 2005 was a pretty good COFB, with all the usual fun, revelry and rivalry one expects.