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Beckys Blog
Topic Started: Nov 10 2007, 07:23 AM (492 Views)
Bada Bing
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El Crack
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20 oct THE RETURN OF TJ

My name is Julie Beck(techan 22 which happens to be a made up name of complete rubbish following a few glasses of wine) I'm mother to a 6 year old and happily married and been 21 for ages now and Kylie seems like a giant compared to me!

Fairly new to basketball having won season tickets at a charity night last season renewed this season because I loved it so much ( and love Fab who is extremely sexy)

Still haven't quite got the hang of all the rules but can clap and sway to Zorba with the best of them!

Would like to tell you what I do for a living but most people run a mile when I tell them so I won't bother.

Of course I live in God's country - it's Newcastle where else?
 
Anyway......
 
On Friday 26th November myself and the family took ourselves along to watch the Eagles v's Cheshire Jets.
Once we got past the entrance foyer with a little bit of money left in our pocket's, as my wee boy thinks we should definitely spend his non existent inheritance, we took our seats eagerly anticipating the return of the legendary TJ Walker (you wouldn't believe the tears when he broke my wee lad's heart by leaving the Eagles).
 
After the 59 millionth time of asking "is he here yet?" TJ finally appeared to tumultous applause. I had quite a lump in my throat. Actually no that was my son strangling me with excitement.
 
It was an emotional start to the game especially when TJ clapped the crowd.
 
However what really grabbed my attention was fabs muscles( no sorry lets not go there)
 
We did panic slightly when we couldn't see Bongo Boy( the greek chap with bongo drums who plays at the metro radio arena) but thankfully spotted him eventually although his Bongo's appear to have been lost.
 
After that it was all eyes on what was ,quite possibly for us, the most exciting game of the season.
 

I still have no idea about fouls. It all happens so fast I can never see a foul being comitted other than when someone gets pushed and if Fab does the pushing it can't possibly be a foul, he's just being playful! First time I saw a ref call a travelling violation I thought he'd lost the plot and was about to launch into Saturday night fever/John Travolta routine.
 
So here we were watching the most fantastic game unfold before our very eyes, in between " I need the toilet" "I feel sick " and "can I have some sweets and a drink?", so high in drama, adrenaline and rippling muscles - sorry I can't help myself.

All affection for TJ was driven out of the window by our desperate need for a win.

Our normally fairly quiet block were screaming by the end of the game, the noise was deafening and how very welcome. I only get loud after a glass or two of wine but this week I needed nothing stronger than water and the thought of taking a tearful child home in the car if we lost to virtually shout myself silent.
 
The last five minutes were virtually heart stopping. Oh please god no screaming child in the car travelling home because we lost.And then the miracle occurred and those magical balls dropped through the hoops. The Arena erupted and my boy had a big lump in his throat - no actually that was me hugging him too tightly with excitement.
 
The team made mistakes but all was forgiven as we had won an important game.
We still haven't won the signed basketball but seeing as though we kept winning the 50/50 club last season we can't complain.
 
Just can't wait for the next game - bring it on!
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10 NOV REFFIN HELL - THERE IS NO GAME

As there is no game this week I thought I’d spend a little time familiarising myself with some of the rules and in particular what the blinking heck those signals from the refs mean.

I had a look on BBC sport academy and I have to say I did have a laugh. The pictures are incredibly funny (although I have to admit they are rip roaringly hilarious after drinking copious amounts of alcohol..... but if you are under age it’s not big or clever, just in case there are any law enforcement officers reading this).

Anyway I discovered that the referees are not big X factor fans after all, merely calling for substitutions and no, they are not making shadow rabbits on the walls it’s a two pointer.

I now need to apologise to all the refs because I thought they were making fun of the game for being boring and feeling for their pulse, they were actually signalling a holding foul.

I really liked the fact that they had caught on to the legendary Oota chant “if you’re proud to be an eagle be a house” but now discover it means they are signalling a time out.

I had wondered why they were trying to get the Mexican wave going when they should be concentrating on the game and not entertaining the crowd – oops it was the jump ball signal.

I know that basketball is an aggressive sport but I thought that the ref signalling he was going to punch someone was a little over the top but now realise that he’s talking about a charging signal. I can rest easy in my seat now!


I used to giggle when they were asking the table “do you think we have big muscles?” Ha – it’s the blocking signal.

I have been ready to offer a shoulder to cry on when the refs had had enough of the game and stick they come in for but I can leave the Kleenex at home now, it’s the pushing signal.

On more than one occasion I’ve been ready to call for the men n white coats when those “lost the plot” refs kept making funny gestures with three fingers of each hand above their heads. Good job I didn’t it was a three pointer.

We all know what I thought the travelling violation was – get those disco lights flashing.
Lastly the refs are not playing air basketball with both hands because they want to play the game but failed to make the team, they are calling for a double dribble.

It’s a pity that I took the time to learn all this as it did provide me with endless amusement during those annoying stoppages.

I’ll just have to think of something else now.

Can’t wait for the next game!

(ED - Don't forget anyone wanting to be a BBL Noddy can ask Forrester questions even anonymously about anything to do with the game. E-mail badaball@hotmail.co.uk wiht your queries)



06 DEC OOOH ERR MISSUS

In my quest to further my knowledge of basketball I again decided to surf the web.

What can I say (again)? I spent a most enjoyable evening chuckling and trying to get my mind out of the gutter.

For starters I found a site offering expert tips:

You don’t need a lot of space to practice your ball handling just start dribbling- what was all that about?

Just remember to keep your eyes up and work on your off hand twice as much as you do your strong hand. Goodness me!

Having a soft touch is very desirable and an undesirable trait is thinking too much and it is due to being too tentative. Flipping heck man.

Video tape it all?
 
That was me finished. I could take no more.

Then I found another site telling me to pump fake it 5 times then dribble 5 times to the right – is that achievable? Best avoid that site then! The next site told me I’d discover the perfect technique. I didn’t get past that! We can get vertical on another site – and they provide photographs!

More than enough. I am talking about the intricacies of basketball people, come on!

So, to the last home game.

Some wag, who shall remain anonymous, but you know who you are, decided to give my little boy a hooter to blast out during the game. We sit on the quiet side and I honestly thought my life was in danger. I sat there pretending he wasn’t with me but his cries of “this is great mum” gave me away.

In the end we bribed him to give it up by promising him a shot at the hoop at half time. How costly was that! He never stood a chance. At 6 years old the basket was miles away and for the amount of money we spent to take his mind off the hooter , we could have bought a flipping basketball anyway!

Oh yeah, the game itself was fantastic with another convincing win and Fab looking gorgeous as usual.

Can’t wait for the next game!


19 DEC IT'S THE PANTOMIME SEASON AGAIN ......

It’s the pantomime season again and so much has happened to make me think that life is one big pantomime in the basketball league.
Take for example our beloved Eagles:

The evil King Rat in Dick Wittington was out for self gain but no good came of it and he disappeared amongst much booing and hissing – no contest who played that part this year!

In Dick Wittington the streets really were paved with Gold when Dick made his fortune just as the Eagles earned a good sponsorship deal.

Who reminds me of the ugly sisters with those notorious wigs and face paints ( clue: one has an ASBO and the other loves salad) and they are both game for a laugh( at least I hope so if they read this)

The cheerleaders were banished by the wicked stepmother never to go to the ball again. Could Paul Blake be the principal boy and bring some cheerleaders back? Not that I’m calling him a girl because the boy is always played by a girl! What’s all that about?

I’ll leave the OOTA to decide which of the seven dwarfs they want to be, suffice to say I am definitely the right height to play any one of them although I’m always happy especially with a glass in my hand!

Wrong sex but hey it’s the age of political correctness so I can be, right! Perhaps FBS could be grumpy as he never stops moaning about the lack of cheerleaders! (only kidding mate!)

Our Very own Bada could possibly be the Sheriff of Nottingham as he has squeezed every last penny out of me! Alright it was for a good cause so, to be nice he could play Buttons who was always kind hearted.

No contest for prince charming it has to be the fabulous Fab – erm sorry I mean my hubby who just happens to be watching me write this. I love you really.

Jamieson from MK lions should always get a mention as he provides such entertainment when he visits Newcastle but I couldn’t possibly comment on which part he should play!

Would the Eagles win the semi’s – Oh no they Won’t – OH YES WE DID!
In the end good triumphed along with help from the supporting cast – take a bow the OOTA.

So it’s coming to the end of the show and we all clap and cheer and then go to the pub for a cheery drink all geared up for the big day.

Merry Christmas.















EuroLeague Women because women's basketball is the most important thing in life after family and good health!
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07 JAN - GETTING MUGGED FOR CASH

Well it seems like a while but here we are again.

At the game against the rocks there was plenty of comedy and drama.

To begin with I was mugged as I walked in the door at the arena. Actually no that was Dougy sticking the fundraising bucket for swoop in front of me giving it a good shake and threatening to come and sit on the quiet side that did it. I instantly parted with a load of cash. He’s got an ASBO you know (alright it is from Bada but hey who cares?)

Then I had to buy the raffle ticket for the signed ball and as if that wasn’t enough that man who eeks every spare bit of cash out of me and more took my son’s birthday party money off me to pay for some badaball.com hats. (mentioning no names BADA. Alright, so I’m lying, it wasn’t my son’s money but he blackmails me with his tales of woe and fundraisers so I thought I’d get my own back but failed miserably because I’m a crap liar)

Oh and yes I was almost shoulder to shoulder with Dave F last night who was next to Bada as I handed over my cash but didn’t say anything to him as I definitely do not want to be labelled as a noddy because of my complete lack of technical knowledge, so slunk off with hubby in tow protecting my honour and ignorance.

So by the time I took my seat I was again bankrupt and this time my wee boy wasn’t with us. He was poorly so we left him in the garage at home with the light off because of the hike in energy prices. Only joking he was being spoiled by Grandma as he really is ill.

So anyway, I couldn’t believe that I had no money left and could only afford a hot chocolate. As I sat there drinking it I began to wonder if the bar man had felt sorry for me and spiked my drink or whether it was the lovely hubby hoping for some fun when we got home because the next thing I knew, there was Andy from Little Britain masquerading as a photographer with no wheelchair or Lou in sight.

It was only when I looked closely that I realised that he was maybe? the photographer for the Scottish rocks! Well they have the rockettes and that drum so something had to give! Speaking of that drum, it really does prove the saying that size doesn’t matter it’s what you do with it that counts.

Sorry Dougy but you will have to do better mate! Bongo boy switched tactics with his drum and used wooden sticks which made his drum louder but they definitely beat us on that score.

Whilst all this was going on I could see our fab photographers doing their stuff and made a mental note to let gridiron know I was watching him and loved his new pink bracelet – not sure what that’s about though! Can’t wait to hear that explanation!

In the meantime I decided I definitely need an umbrella because fatbaldskint is reaching fever pitch with no cheerleaders to letch over and drooled constantly at the female physio.
In order to prevent a flood at the arena I really think Paul Blake needs to invest in some cheerleaders to at least calm the situation.

So on to the game. I thought the refs performed their dance routines well, timing their travelling violations marvellously well with the music. They obviously hadn’t gotten over Christmas as they were still in panto roles because their decisions were so ridiculous and full of comedy.

We were all expecting a hard fought, close game and were shocked at how the game unfolded. The Eagles were on fire which was more than could be said for the rest of us as the arena was freezing!
It is amazing how the team have performed since the man who shall remain nameless left (CLUE: he hasn’t got a house). Total respect to them.

I do, however have one complaint against the lovely Mr Flournoy, which is rare, but has to be said.

His groin injury is obviously healing, which is a good thing, but he no longer flashes those thighs at me whilst being massaged. Selfish is what I say. Glad it’s healing but why stop showing his thighs? Some people are so self centred. If you are reading this do you need any Occupational Therapy ? I’m fully registered and would provide OT free of charge. I am a generous person and believe in charity!

Anyway, back to the game. I really started to feel sorry for the rocks as no matter what they tried our stars just interrupted their flow all the way.
Even the valiant efforts of their coach , whose voice could be heard shrieking above that drum, and that is no mean feat, could influence the course of the game.
I would not have wanted to be on their bus on the way home. That was one angry man!

Our class shone through and they all performed brilliantly. Whilst I sneezed in to my handkerchief, Will Spragg did an amazing impression of Superman and moved so quickly I never saw him move on or off court again. Amazing!

I look forward to seeing what Brian Defares will bring to the team next week as, sadly, he sat out the game obviously traumatised by that interview to even think about playing!( so I’m skating on thin ice with bada now – I don’t care I’m on a roll).

Right I hear the sound of popping corks as my beloved pours the last of the Christmas fizz. Until next time, happy new year.

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21 JAN ITS BEEN A FUNNY OLD WEEK

It’s been a funny old week as the saying goes.
Speaking of which, has anyone noticed the sign on the side wall as you walk around from the car park to the front of the arena?
“Anyone caught in possession of illegal substances past this point will be prosecuted”
Woo hoo! so make sure you stand to the left of it when you have them because that’s okay, not that I advocate drugs unless it’s Calpol for Kids – parents you know what I mean.

Anyway. At the game against the Tigers I walked in and had a leaflet shoved in my hand. As I read it I had to chuckle, the Golden basket are you having a laugh? To even hit the kids hoop in the foyer I need to stand where the really young kids shoot - I meant baskets not drugs- seems like I’m obsessed having had a bit of a week with my wee boy. Right where was I ? - oh yes I still can’t hit the basket from that point either.

So on to the ritual bankrupting process of collection buckets, signed basketball comp, sweets, drinks etc. feeling very much lighter having emptied my pockets of cash we walked towards a rowing machine. EH? Apparently it was a promotion for activity sport and weight loss. Excuse me, I just lost a load of weight – about 7 pounds in fact just by walking in through the foyer.
So my wee boy and myself decided to have a go . What was vastly amusing to the demonstrators but another humiliating experience( one of the many) for myself was the fact that the blinking feet supports wouldn’t adjust down enough to my size. My son got an “oh isn’t he cute?” when his feet didn’t fit, I just got laughed at!

At that point I was desperate to just get to my seat and sink in to the depths of invisibility. Which just brings to mind what’s going to happen when I get really old? Am I going to be the incredible shrinking woman? You can just about see me now if you look down towards the ground. “Honey I shrunk myself”, the new age concern film starring Techan 22 springs to mind too!

We settled the wee chap with FIFA 08 on my phone to play with. He’s decided he’s not really interested in Basketball at the moment but we paid for his season ticket so he’s going to sit there whether he wants to or not, admittedly armed with his Nintendo DS, my phone, sweets etc so he seems fairly happy.

Everyone happy? Great, time for the game. I was so looking forward to the fun on court with Richard Midgeley but unfortunately as he’d strained his leg muscles bungalow hunting and hit his head moving his furniture in he sat on the bench enjoying his evening with his bestest buddies( what do you mean only buddies?


I have it on good authority he’s a lovely guy, mind you that did come from the prawn sandwich brigade so may they have been high on one too many sarnies, or enjoyed themselves beside that sign just before going in to the game, not that I’m casting aspersions on anyone’s integrity!)

Credit where credit’s due. He took some stick from the OOTA throughout the game and laughed and did acknowledge them. The man has a sense of humour.

It was a fairly easy game for us which really didn’t stretch us too much , thankfully, considering the injuries the team are carrying. Here’s hoping our points score will boost us in to the next round should we fail to win. Is that Semi’s next I mean ? Alright so I’m one of those noddy’s that no one wants to admit being!

It was a happy game certainly helped by the fact that I had one of those small bottles of wine which went straight to my head at half time.
I thought I was really drunk because I kept seeing the colour of one of our photographer’s lovely bracelets changing pink white pink white etc but realised eventually he was just playing games. Don’t worry love I really can help you. I deal with mental health problems at work every day. I can fit you in to a group therapy session anytime . Just give me a call.
Which reminds me, another of our photographers had a health scare this week but I’m happy to announce he’s okay and having a rest before going back to work.

So we won and that was fantastic. The amazing Fab did it again.
Then another life changing event occurred. No they didn’t give me growth hormones, I’m talking about the second coming – King Kev.


The atmosphere on Tyneside is electric at the moment. It’s all we seem to be talking about. I’m not expecting miracles this time around as the situation is different but it has certainly been a smart business move and given us all a bit more hope.

I had to celebrate these monumental events by going to a whisky tasting evening with my beloved husband and my dad.
Actually it all went a bit pear shaped. We were a disgrace to those refined wine tasters who thought it would be a good idea to host something a bit different and have a whisky tasting for a change.

We were sat there with 6 samples which were thimble full measures and weren’t allowed to touch them for nearly ¾ hour whilst the speaker spoke. Virtually frothing at the mouth we were.
He was so boring that my beloved went to sleep and started snoring. I had to dig him in the ribs and the looks made our blood freeze.
Then my dad’s mobile kept beeping with messages and we kept whispering and giggling over the texts. What made it even worse was the speaker didn’t know what he was talking about and had to keep referring to notes which in turn made us hysterical. Remember school days when under the teachers beady eye you almost died trying not to laugh? Say no more!
So by the time it came to tasting we were completely ignored by the speaker who asked for comments but wouldn’t even look at us lot.
We sat there in the corner suitably chastened and tasted our thimbles . Four of them were really nice but 2 were undrinkable. They are all cask strength so much stronger than your bottled whisky and there was also a bar.
At the end of the evening we trooped out and immediately disgraced ourselves by waking straight in to the middle of a muddy cricket pitch because it was so dark and we couldn’t see where we were going. I don’t know how any of the other guests managed not to do that but the tuts echoed around the dark pitch and whilst there was no fertiliser on the pitch you would have sworn there was because their noses were held so high in the air.

A shining white horse mercifully rescued us in the guise of a taxi and took us to our castle where large drams awaited us. We congratulated ourselves on a successful night.
Onwards and upwards is our motto and we just can’t wait for the next exciting adventure.
Bring on the next home game!
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