So long, farewell....

This week was supposed to be all about saying goodbye to heroes. Thursday 11th was the Stray Cats in Manchester. The Stray Cats were my heroes in school and my love for them has never diminished. I've supported all their solo projects and seen them live a couple of times before. This tour though is billed as their final tour and was therefore something I couldn't miss. The reviews have been great from shows acroos Europe and anticipation was high. My neice was even going, she's only 14 and loves the Cats, the future generation if you want. Then, disaster strikes, as Slim Jim falls off the stage at the end of the London show and breaks his arm in three places, causing the remainder of the tour to be cancelled. Next comes the final one-day game of my favourite cricketer of all time, Graeme Hick. I've watched him hundreds of times and he is outstanding, absolutely brialliant to watch. I've seen him punish bowlers to the point where you almost feel sorry for them - almost. Anyway, before the big day comes, Worcester is under 9 foot of water and the game gets moved to Kidderminster, which isn’t beig wnough for the members never mind the general public. I'm just glad Elvis Presley isn't alive to play Pele in a farewell game of head-tennis. I could imagine I've got front row seats and then the world ends. The pathetic old line, ah well, there's always tomorrow doesn't work with farewell shows and games. All you got left are the memories - thank God they're precious.