So you may recall that I mentioned in my “What I’m Looking Forward to in December” post, that I was going to an event called Gillette Potting Saturday. At the time I had no idea what this actually would entail – other than a boat load of booze and giggles. And I was right!
On Saturday Tom and I headed over to our friends house, where eight of our other buddies were congregating for a Saturday of Gillette Potting and fun. Potting is a game the boys invented during a weekend away in Brighton this summer.
It’s not that difficult in theory, although apparently it’s pretty difficult in real life, as no ‘pots’ were scored over the duration of the weekend. Even though they must have spent the best part of 4-5 hours actually playing it!
So you stand in a circle, in shorts and bare feet (which is a much nicer thing to experience in the summer, but you have to make sacrifices for your sport, so even in this cold weather, the socks and shoes must stay off!), and have to do twenty keepy-uppy’s. If someone does two in a row, that only counts as one. It only counts when you pass the ball onto another member of the potting team.
Once you’ve hit twenty, you then have to continue with the keepy-uppy’s, but slowly move down the garden towards the ‘pot’. A pot is generally a large flower/plant pot of some arrangement – without a plant in it. Once you arrive at the pot, you then have to get the ball into the pot. All this time keeping it up in the air. As soon as it hits the ground (or your hand), it’s game over and you have to start again.
Sounds simple. But apparently not! The boys had an awful lot of close shaves (lots of rimming going on!), but no actual pots. Shame.
Us girls did watch them play for a surprisingly long time. We made up chants and hurled abuse at them like we were at a football game.
Oh, which reminds me. It’s called Gillette Potting Saturday, as there’s some TV show called Gillette Football Saturday. Catchy title huh!?
After about three hours of unsuccessful potting, the boys got showered and all ten of us and Daisy the dog headed off on a lovely long walk towards a local pub for a nice late lunch. The walk was lovely, through fields and woodland, past sheep and some rather curious and over-friendly (read scary) horses!
We ended up at the Hampshire Bowman – a nice little pub which serves lots of good food and drink.
We stayed there for hours, until about 8ish I think (we’d had quite a lot of drinks by then). Then we headed off on the long walk home… in the dark!
We’d got about two minutes down the road when our friend Jarvis jumped into the hedge. None of us had any idea what he was doing. If he needed a pee, then this was not the place to do it!!
But after a minute he emerged back out of the bush with two carrier bags – full of beers and mixed drinks (the pre mixed G&T’s, vodka and coke things). What an utter legend!! He had bought it all the day before and planted them in the bush, hidden away from sight, knowing that a couple of beverages would be just what was needed to get us through this mammoth walk home in the pitch black.
Needless to say the drinks lasted longer than the torch on my iPhone! Luckily we had a few other proper torches in the group, otherwise it would have been a rather alarming walk home.
It must have taken us over an hour to get back. Luckily we were able to walk around the field with the nosy horses in, as I would not have wanted to go through that field without being able to see where they were!!
Once we got home, we carried on drinking. Then the boys made us girls watch Two Girls, One Cup (gross – I only saw about a second of it before I gagged and didn’t watch the rest!).
The next morning we woke up and made the mother of all fry-ups before heading on our way home (but not before another unsuccessful potting session from the boys!). I spent Sunday afternoon lying on the sofa watching The Goonies and Home Alone.
The perfect weekend!
EDIT: On 27/12/13 I was notified that at approximately 2pm on the Sunday, two hours after Mr Chapman and I had left, a Pot was indeed scored. I apologise sincerely to all the boys involved in this winning Pot. At no time did I mean to cause any offence when reporting that no Pots had been scored over the weekend. Scoring one Pot over the course of roughly eight hours of Potting fun is something that should be celebrated and noted down for the future generation to aspire to. Please accept my heartfelt acknowledgement of this fact. I would now appreciate if divorce proceedings could be stopped, as we all know Mr Chapman would be lost without his little Pixie-Poo.