Fixing Cars and Football! (I.P.)

Fixing Cars and Football!        (I.P.)   

Men are such funny creatures. I feel sure I will never understand them.  They say and do things that are completely inexplicable to me.  They can be polite, they can be charming…but can they really be for everyday use?  I’m not sure they can.  When I think of some of the things that my beloved has done over the many years that we have formed an attachment I have to wonder.  For example, I have only to think back to the last time I asked my beloved to watch the dinner while I went upstairs to get changed.  I should explain that I was roasting the potatoes and meat in a glass halogen oven where you can see the food cooking and the oven is small enough to sit on a work surface.  All the easier for some one to keep an eye on…or, so one might think.  Not so!  Smelling something burning I hurried downstairs to find my beloved staring at the halogen oven while Rome, well, possibly not Rome, but certainly our dinner BURNED!  In a very reasonable tone I asked my beloved why he hadn’t turned the oven off or even taken the dinner out.  Ah ha!  Quick as a flash he came back with,

“But you only asked me to watch the dinner and I haven’t moved I’ve stood and watched it all the time you were upstairs.”

Then he gave me that look that says surely some kind of praise is going to come my way.  I seem to remember I did have something to say but I feel pretty sure it didn’t start with “Thank you, darling…”

Anyway, there are two other aspects of the male psyche that immediately spring to mind, the first of which is football.  It matters not one iota what type of function one is attending  if just two males find themselves within talking distance the discussion will be one of only two subjects on which they have an opinion.  Fixing cars and football!  Sometimes only one of these is mentioned at other times both are discussed at some length.

Should a woman find herself in the unfortunate position of being in the danger zone then she will be subjected to a heated discussion concerning the parentage of the referee at any given match, the innermost machinations of the offside rule and the most dire consequences suffered by the club that signed a striker for millions, yes, millions of pounds but who sadly needs a guide dog to find the opposing sides’ goalmouth.  “Tragic!”  I hear you cry.  ‘How can this be?’ 

Surely there must be some mistake, the country is in economic crisis and a football club has just paid millions of pounds for a lad to run around a field kicking a football?  And this at a time when we are all going to have to work longer before we can retire, our high streets are becoming bereft of shops and indeed shoppers.  The costs of electricity and gas are going through the roof, petrol is becoming almost a luxury and oil to heat our homes is putting millions of people in fuel poverty. How fortunate then, that men can put all this in perspective and be quite happy for millions to be paid to a striker providing he has the skill to find the opposing goalmouth, which is a very big space for him to find for his little ball!

And that’s not to mention another strange little idea:  namely, that there are eleven men in each team and they all run about for ninety minutes chasing, would you believe, this one ball.  Now wouldn’t you think with all that money spent on a striker the club could afford to buy a ball for each of their players instead of them having to chase just the one? Then it could all be over in a matter of minutes instead of the ninety minutes that is wasted. 

I tell you if female logic was applied the men would all be at home in the bosom of their families.  Possibly even, doing one or two useful little jobs around the house such as putting in a new bathroom or even a kitchen, building an extension or re-roofing the wife’s mother’s little annexe.  No one can argue that this is not a happy little scenario and would be so beneficial to the man as there would be no need for him to be standing about on some freezing football pitch hoping the ball will find its way to his feet.  No, instead, he could be freezing his nuts off up some ladder re-roofing his dear mother-in-law’s annexe in order for his dear wife to allow him back in to the house again once it gets dark.        

Then these same men spend any money they have on buying football paraphernalia such as football strips that no sooner have been bought from the club’s shop for the club to then decide to change it. Next there is the collection of past programmes that are kept under the bed gathering dust because they are never picked up again but the wife is not allowed to throw them out.  Then the children must be kitted out in the appropriate strip and taught the club’s anthem which for one club is, I believe “You’ll Never Walk Alone!” Well, that part is certainly true because regardless of whether the team wins or loses the end result is the same. The man comes home paralytic either from disappointment that the team lost or euphoric because they won and that is where the never walking alone bit comes in as he has spent all your housekeeping plying fellow supporters with drink.

Next we come to that other great male infatuation…fixing cars!  Now this is something so absorbing that even football must take second place to this most interesting subject.  If a woman should attend say a party, for instance, she will be assailed with talk of big ends, carburettors, cam shafts, alternators, braking systems, suspension and all manner of equally obscure items that apparently make the car go.  And all this talk of things mechanical pushing right to the back of her mind the really important stuff such as which foundation is best for dry and which is best for oily skin and does long lash mascara really work?  However, if she is a good student and prepared to cast all thoughts of the correct makeup for her skin from her mind then she will learn where, in the engine, these parts live.  This knowledge is so useful that one can hardly imagine how she has got to this point in her life without knowing such details.  To a man, the idea that a woman can go through life without knowing the difference between a cam shaft and a carburettor, well, it just beggars belief! 

At this point it might be useful if the reader can picture the scene that I will attempt to convey in order to illustrate the length and breadth of a man’s infatuation with things mechanical especially when they are being discussed at some social gathering.  For example, a husband and his heavily pregnant wife go to a party and the wife starts to go into labour and so tries to attract the attention of her husband.  Unfortunately, for her, he is discussing the merits of his team’s defenders and will allow no interruption from anybody least of all his heavily pregnant wife.  So, she takes the only option available and attempts to make her way towards her husband but just as she reaches the area where people are dancing to a slow tune, she selfishly allows her waters to break.  A couple busy smooching to Nat King Cole break away from licking each others’ ears and go to inform the husband that his wife needs him, to which he replies,

“Tell her to do her breathing I’m in the middle of telling this chap that the linesman put up his flag when the ball wasn’t even in the penalty area.”

This message is relayed back to the wife who is frantically doing her breathing in between contractions which her husband ignores because he thinks she is doing it for effect.  Besides, things are getting a little heated about his team’s central defender.

However, the wife is in no mood to be trifled with so she sends back a message to the effect that,

“If that selfish bastard doesn’t get me to hospital in double quick time I will have this baby right here and now and as he is the only person I will allow to deliver it he best get his arse in gear and get me to hospital before he has to act as midwife.”

The husband looking a touch put out finally comes over and says,

“Couldn’t you have waited a bit longer I was in the middle of something?”

“And I am in the middle of something myself so get your coat and with car keys at the ready get me to hospital in the shortest time possible.”

They are soon on their way and the wife is still frantically doing her breathing; concerned because she feels the birth is becoming increasingly imminent but that is nothing compared to the anxiety felt by her husband.  He has noticed smoke coming from the engine!  As the poor man anxiously continues to drive all his thoughts are directed towards the question of what is causing the smoke.  Is it the manifold, cam shaft, or worst possible scenario, the head gasket but, no, his instinct tells him it is more likely to be one lower down in the hierarchy of gaskets?  And then his wife gives the most piercing scream and the severity of the situation hits him like a bolt of lightning.  It’s his Big End! Oh, my God!  His wife is having very short intervals between contractions and so now he has the added concern that the car’s seat covers could be ruined as if he didn’t have enough to worry about with his Big End playing up! 

He could be forgiven for thinking that perhaps his wife is being a little bit selfish in the circumstances.  However, he is relieved when he sees the words Accident and Emergency and he stops to get his wife settled and then drives onto the forecourt but she is somewhat surprised to find herself sitting on the bank by the side of the road with her little case ready packed for her hospital stay.  In his anxiety, though, her husband has still managed to hold on to his wits long enough because he has put POLICE AWARE on his wife’s case.  She meanwhile sitting abandoned by the roadside doing her breathing and trying her best not to bear down sees the sign that set her husband on this course of action.  It reads Accident and Emergency REPAIRS!

Before too long, however, the sound of police sirens can be heard and she breathes a small sigh of relief as she thinks now they will assess the situation and know what to do.  The husband also hears the sirens and goes back to his wife.  A Police car and a Police motorbike pull up and both Policemen start coming towards the woman.

“Thank God you’re here!” says her husband.

“Don’t worry, sir, we’ll soon have the situation under control.  We’re trained for just these sorts of emergencies.”

The woman leans back relieved that they have arrived in time and that they said they were trained for this sort of thing.  Probably doing it every day.  Just routine to them. 

“Where is it?” says the first Policeman to reach them.

Where do they think it is? The wife thinks to herself.

“On the forecourt of that garage but they don’t have a mechanic to fix it.”

“Disgraceful!” says the other Policeman.

“It shouldn’t be allowed,” says the first.  “If they say they are A & E Repairs then they should be made accountable if they don’t provide the service.”

“My thoughts exactly,” says the husband.

The wife groans loudly as she gets a very strong contraction and the three men turn to look at her.

“Do your breathing,” they chorus as they turn back to continue with their discussion of the car’s Big End!

At that moment in time the wife is more concerned with her own Big End problems as she can feel that baby is not going to wait any longer to make its arrival known..  Then with a sudden rush baby is born and on hearing it cry the Husband comes over to take a look.

“Oh, you’ve done well there old girl.  It’s a boy and from where I’m standing he looks pretty well endowed too…must take after his old man.”

“How would you know…you’ve never seen his old man?”

“What?”

Oh, did I not say?  Your team are not the only ones to have been playing away!   

End