SCRIBE REPORT, RUN 2091; ST PATRICK’S DAY/BUBBLES BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION.
In the absence of any other literate volunteers, I found myself in the scribe’s chair after a prolonged absence of about 7 years, and it was a rare pleasure to be seated through the second circle, especially with the kind hearted Fat Max bringing me a beer as and when needed. It was also a pleasant surprise that the PH3 pen worked quite as well as it did, a great idea to furnish scribes with a pen, although there will be a few hashers with a boxful at home now, but many more who will never, ever receive one….
It is remarkable that the patron saint of such a small country as Ireland is recognized the world over, with so many people claiming Irish ancestry – mainly it has to be said, the ‘Mericans who actually invented the St Patrick’s Day parade. And our celebration of all things Irish at the Hash, was unless I’m mistaken, conducted in the absence of anyone from Ireland. When I was a youngster, the Irish were ridiculed in jokes and stories for their stupidity and hit the headlines for shooting and blowing themselves up; being second generation Irish myself, I’m not sure why so many yanks want to claim membership of the big green family. And some useless but interesting info on St Patrick – he wasn’t Irish, he was renowned for wearing blue not green and is also the patron saint of Nigeria. True story.
Any way back to the events of The St Patrick’s Day Run, this year celebrated on the actual occasion, rather than the closest Monday, and as luck (of the Irish) would have it, it was also Bubble’s birthday – a double celebration, and I remember it all so well, almost as though it was just yesterday.
The 4 hares would have been gratified by the high number of sign ups that included a handful of virgins, a couple of likely lads from the south east of England and an American guy by the name of Hero. Really. He seemed an ok guy but cold feet when asked to join the second circle and as much temptation as there was, what new jibe can you offer to bloke called Hero that he hasn’t heard before?
The A site was nothing if not familiar, but the concrete area that was always welcoming has now been covered by a few inches of dirt and sand, and as we gathered to the GMs call for the first circle, a gentle rain shower fell upon us – perhaps in honour of the Irish weather which is unfailingly rainy, but some of the old wrinklies were still taking shelter and probably missed the highlight of the first circle, which was one of the resident dogs approaching the ice blocks, and raising his hind leg to leave a splattering of his scent on the ice. The usual reminders of rules (traditions) and announcements done, the hares gave us their limited briefing – ‘there’s only one hill’ said Cannonball, ‘and if I can do it anyone can do it’, words of reassurance to some but actually worthless as you didn’t actually do F*ck Me Mountain did you mate??
The trail was as to be expected in this area, 1.5 km of flat, 1.5 km of ever-increasing undulations then after the runners/walkers split the seemingly unending steep ascent that was a test for us chubbies, but we all managed it without serious mishap. On a personal level I was accompanied on much of the ascent and subsequent slog along Corona Ridge by the as of yet un-christened Gavin, who encouraged me as I struggled to climb up one section of rocks - ‘this’ll sort out the men from the boys” – put me back in bloody kindergarten I thought to myself.
100 meters to go and a couple of the hares had set up a drinks stop, and provided all the runners and walkers with a shot of Jamiesons in honour of the occasion – a nice touch guys. Back at the A site the welcoming and familiar sight of VVs barbecue was reward for our struggles on trail, but somehow despite plenty of people receiving second service I didn’t manage to snag one of the snags and ended up hangry, making do with some of the fruits provided by the hares.
The relatively new GM, taking to his role like an alcoholic paddy to Guinness, got the second circle underway, while I, blissfully forgetful of my commitment to scribe had done nothing to prepare, so hurriedly found the chair, pen and paper and took my seat close to the beer truck – a mistake as it turned out, as the constant chitter chatter from the increasingly inebriated hares and hashers as they came to procure another beer inhibited my ability to hear everything going on in the circle, I could and should have moved but I thought it better to have something to moan about in these notes, just in case my mind went blank regarding the rest of the proceedings.
The increasingly confident GM got things underway with his now regular feature, The Fashion Police, followed by Hash Trash and Hash Crash, all of which led to miscreants being iced. The GM elicited views on the trail from the crowd and its fair to say it was well received, even though it was almost the exact trail, but in reverse that was used not too long ago – the hanging paper in the colours of the Irish flag was also appreciated. However, it was discovered that Kee Mah was incorporated into the hares’ team solely as he has a truck which was of use – and not all of the hares did the whole trail – no surprises there. Hairy Crack was justifiably censured for wearing a Swamp Rat shirt – his excuse of expecting to receive his award shirt at the start of the circle impressing no one.
The raffle followed with many regular winners claiming a prize (they are the ones who buy tickets every week by the way) and as usual this was followed by Emperor Airhead who further interrogated the hares before naming the siblings of Whore In The Window, Whore In The Window 2 and 3 – one is his older sister and one his younger brother but I don’t recall who was named 2 or 3. Another christening was lined up, with Scotsman Gavin on the ice, and after a short consultation with the circle EA christened him Glass Cow, which is the way EA pronounces Glasgow…..Gavin’s home city. It could have been a hell of a lot worse…
Tampax was called to sing for the hares, and had brought his guitar and amps (as oft times before) and gave us a rendition of an old Dubliners song, popularized by Thin Lizzy, Whiskey in the Jar, good effort, especially from Disco Dick, who with no invitation took his place with the hares, dancing and shaking a tambourine as the real hares led the singing of the chorus.
More people were iced by the two other RAs, both seemingly vying for the title of Really Bad RA but to be fair Scar has the experience to see off all pretenders to the throne, and before we knew it, it was all over. A boisterous rendition of the Final Down Down and the Hash Hymn brought this stage of proceedings to an end. A relatively short journey back, thankfully as I was in the back seat of a smallish car accompanied by the supersized, Super Virgin (thank you for the new Wanker of the Week spoons) and Stupid Kraut C*nt who insisted that he put his arm around me as it provided more room – make of that what you will.
Kubla Bar our On On hosts treated us royally as always, blighted only by Milky Piss ‘entertaining’ the 50 or so hashers present with his rendition of “where is it?” Dirty Old Town, that’s where it is.
See you all next week at 4pm Monday, when its time for Pattaya Hash House Harriers audience participation jamboree, number 2091.
On On The Wizard