No wins, no losses, all draws doesn’t win the trophy.
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It is late evening time and I find myself at a large floodlit football stadium in Scotland (strange setting as I’ve never been to Scotland and I don’t like soccer. I can only assume that this dream has a symbolic meaning?).The game on the pitch is drawing to close and I am aware that it is the last match of the season and will decide which team has won this season’s trophy. The game finally ends in a goalless draw. Everybody in the stadium would seem to be deep in silent thought as I look at the expressions on their faces. Everyone appears to be trying to calculate who has the most points and who the champion is for this year I join in the calculation too.
I realise that the team I have been supporting all season has not won a single game but neither have they lost a game they have only had a long continuous run of draws most of which have been goalless. I reflect deeply and wonder if it is possible to go a whole season and only draw matches and still win the trophy? (I checked with a friend at work if this was possible and he told me it wasn’t, in fact it is actually possible to be relegated down to a lower division!).
Everyone in the stadium is still caught up in their own little world trying to calculate the outcome. A loud robotic sounding female voice suddenly comes over the public announcement system and explains that a team other than the one I was supporting has won the end of season trophy. Apparently this team had mixed fortunes they drew a few games and even lost some but they also won a couple of games too and it was the points awarded for these won games that helped them to seal their victory.
I head off out of the stadium with the sea of other football fans I am feeling a little glum and down at my teams not winning the championship. There is a lot of boisterous activity outside the stadium with people being noisy and a bit rowdy.
Suddenly someone comes out through a throng of people I can see him approaching me aggressively and just have a moment to see him wielding a motorcycle chain in his right hand. Before I know it he has violently whipped me across the head with the heavy makeshift weapon, the pain is very real and excruciating.
I step aside clutching my head and go to sit down on the pavement to try and alleviate the pain and steady myself. A stranger, quite possibly a female then rides up towards me on an extremely shoddy rust bucket of a moped come small capacity motorcycle. She offers me a ride on the bike, she doesn’t say so but I get the impression that it is with the intention of trying to sell it to me.
I decide to give it a go and step astride the junk heap, the young woman passes me a battered old 1970’s style full face crash helmet, I note that it is white with red markings and doesn’t have a visor it is also covered in lots of cheap childish stickers as well as bump and scratch marks.
I put the unsafe looking helmet on which slips over my head far too easily and doesn’t even have any chin straps and then set off up the darkened street which is lit which tall street lamps. At first I ride on the pavement which doesn’t seem safe I then thud down onto the road from the kerb this proves even less safe as I am actually approaching the oncoming traffic.
The knackered old scrap heap of a bike is much worse than I thought and is a complete death trap I decide I’ve had enough and turn around to go back and return it to the woman. In fact the bike is so bad to ride that I decide to not even ride it back to her but instead get off and push it back.
