Grubs M.C.C.

Ugly Grub's Ball.

May 23rd, 24th, 25th.  1997.

   If you are keen on your history, which I am not, then Market Bosworth may
ring a few bells.  It seems that nearly 500 years ago, in a nearby field, a group of
leather clad & be-helmeted types set up camp prior to kicking the shit out of a similar group. 

They say history often repeats itself.   Well apart from the shit kicking bit in a
way it does. In a field, near to Market Bosworth a group of be-helmeted & leather clad persons are setting up camp.  Tents of all shapes & sizes appear.  Flags of different "legions" appear.  Is this some historical society keen on re-enacting the Battle of Bosworth?
NO. It`s just the Grubs M.C.C. holding their Ugly Grub's Ball rally.
 The Grubs rally is one of those peaceful, laid back affairs where people can
take part in really silly games and not feel a prat.  Much enjoyment & silliness was had by all.
The venue is Market Bosworth rugby club, about a mile out of town, so it`s
not too far to walk in order to sample some of the good pubs in the village. 
The Olde Red Lion does a wonderful pint of Theaksons Old Peculiar.
 Being old & peculiar myself, I find it a beer I can empathise with.  Oh my head. Never again.
 The beer prices in the club were reasonable, and when the bar closed, the
kitchen opened selling assorted types of  falling down water.  The Grubs version of "Pass the parcel" went down well.  Just don't mention custard pies.  It was good to see the "Gaffer" of the rugby club enjoying  himself along with the lads.  He drank so much "enjoyment" that the last I saw of him he was lying on the grass outside with his coat over him.
 The rest of the night carried on as Saturday nights on rallies should.  The raffle,
followed by the eating & drinking competitions, then the awards.  I was dead chuffed to get the prize for best Trike.  I then remembered that there was only one Trike on the field.  Good job there was no award for rat Trike. 

Thanks lads.
 Seeing as this rally was held on the Bank holiday weekend I assumed that
Sunday night would carry on in the same vein as Friday & Saturday.
 For some reason, Sunday saw almost everyone pack up and leave.  From 150
plus, down to 4.  Yes, 4.  Three of us intrepid Moonshiners and "Day-glo", a chap I have known for the best part of 15 years,  and still don't know his real name.  Due to much dinner time drinking, I was the only one who managed to go into town Sunday night.  The others were still sleeping it off  at ten O'clock Sunday night.  That's the way to do it, as Mr. Punch often says.

I like Grubs. 

I like Ugly Grubs. 

I even like Ugly Grubs Balls.
Catch you all next year lads and thanks for a good one.     


 Lone Wolf.

Back to 1997.