The Vegas Files

5.30AM British time and the blinding neon light is sending me into a mad rage "What the f*ck are they doing putting these lights on at 5 in the morning? People are trying to sleep and they put these f*cking lights on full blast" Karl chuckled to himself in agreement and then hid his head in his hands.

No, we had not landed in Vegas, but were on the 3.30AM Transpennine Express to Manchester Airport. I had only had 2 hours sleep between 12 and 2, and the previous night only had 6 hours sleep after an impromtu trip to the Gallery nightclub. I had banked on getting some sleep on the train, but it soon transpired this would be an impossibility.

Our flight to Vegas was with KLM, and this meant we had to fly to Amsterdam airport to catch our transatlantic flight. With the airlines prohibiting passengers from carrying liquid in their hand luggage, I had not set aside any contact lens fluid for the flight. However, when we reached the check in desk, it became clear that a small amount of fluid was allowed. I measured out a few ml while Karl fired off an early contender for quote of the trip "What? You are not allowed liquid on the plane? Am I allowed to take my sausage roll on?"

After confirmation that Al Queda are no longer using baked savouries as detonation devices, we stocked up on caffeine and made our way to the plane. We were closely flanked by a group of Man U casuals who were connecting at Amsterdam on their way to Copenhagen, but although boisterous they seemed to be in good spirits and no carnage was caused on the flight.

Amsterdam saw a dykish looking member of security personnel interrogating us as to the purpose of our trip to the States, and then came a moment of abject fear as I checked my hand luggage and found my Gucci aftershave in there. It had somehow not been clocked on the X-ray machine, and I calculated the best thing to do was keep quiet, as alerting security would mean surrendering the expensive liquid.

The transatlantic journey was uneventful other than Karl's addiction to a computer game on the inflight entertainment system. 'Bejeweled' was a tetris-esque puzzler, and smashing Karl's high score led to an even heightened psychotic concentration from the shaven headed one. Karl would not put down the controller for 2 hours, despite calls for the system to be switched off when we were about to land.

We landed in Memphis, and immigration control saw several Eastern Europeans push past us in an attempt to gain quick entry to the States. I politely told one of them there was a queue, which had little effect, so after immigration we went to the bar for a couple of beers to calm down. As soon as we were settled on the cross-states flight, I fell asleep and was awoken by the sound of Beyonce and the neon lights of Vegas (Beyonce was on my I-Pod, not sitting next to me).

We arrived at our hotel to find that we had been allocated us a smoking, rather than non-smoking, room. This was soon the least of our troubles as we discovered a hyperdermic needle near the side of the bed. I asked Karl what could be worse than arriving at a smoke-filled drug hovel after a trans-atlantic flight, only to be reminded that this was actually better than the Hans-Brinker budget hotel. We went to the casino, tired. I put $50 on red. It came up black. Our luck was clearly out so we returned to the room and passed out on our smoke-stained beds. End of day 1.

England Expects Every Man Will Do His Duty

The cans of Red Bull have been purchased, the excuses for falling asleep at work lined up and the talking is almost over. At 00.00 GMT tomorrow, Andrew Flintoff will lead out 11 proud English warriors as we attempt to defend the Ashes on Australian soil for the first time in 20 years (Well, 8 English warriors plus two South Africans and a Papua New Guinean). The general feeling is that injuries have now made this an impossibility, with Australia's price to win the Ashes shrinking from 8/11 last September to 1/5 on the eve of the first test. There are numerous betting opportunities on offer however, so at least we can have an interest if it all goes tits up.

Favourite for top England batsman is KP, but in the absence of any real competition from Vaughan or Trescothick the sensible pick has to be the reliable Strauss at 3/1. Ian Bell has made real strides since last summer and would also be recommended as a saver at 5/1. We will have to see if he is fit for the first test before investing however.

Ponting is another reliable scorer, and with Langer losing form he is my pick for top Aussie at 5/2. A lot of punters are heavily backing Warne for top Aussie bowler at 5/4 after his 40 wickets last summer and Glen McGrath's lack of match fitness. I think Lee is value at 11/4 and prefer to take this in the knowledge he will be main strike bowler.

England's bowling is in disarray with Jones injured, Flintoff, Harmison and Giles coming back from injury and Monty Panesar not filling me with the upmost confidence. The ball only swings for 10-15 overs in Oz, so Hoggard is not going to take as many wickets as in England. A small punt on Harmy to by top bowler if he lines up in the first game at 3/1 is a tentative pick.

There are not many drawn tests in Oz, so scores of 3-1 (6/1) and 4-1 (9/1) to the home side look likely. I may do an accumulative bet laying the draw in each test, but will be checking the weather forecast prior to every game to avoid a repeat performance of laying the Old Trafford draw last year!

We are in for a great series, and hopefully Bell and Jones will shine in the first test to hit back at the undue criticism they received last series. Jones's batting in tandem with Flintoff was a real innings builder, and his rebound catch of Ponting in the Old Trafford test was top drawer. Now even Warne has had a pop at his catching in the press - maybe Warney has temporarily forgotten the moment he dropped the Ashes? (pic above)

If you want to watch the best moments of last summer, check out Sky's site below. Also check out the Aussie version of the Barmy Army (Monty - can't catch or bat - LOL), and the place we would all rather be at midnight tomorrow - The Brewhouse.

http://survey.sky.com/herewegoagain/

http://www.thefanatics.com/index.php?action=results&poll_ident=143

http://www.thebrewhouse.com.au/

Knocked for Six

My first blog entry for nearly a month for a mulitude of reasons, firstly being that the girl I was seeing from Sheffield Uni decided that she did not want me to visit her again, thus bringing on a period of depression similar to that of Marcus Trescothick. It was due to the fact I accused her of being overly promiscuous i.e. a slag. Although the comment was only in jest, she seemed to take it a little too seriously and broke down in tears in the middle of the pub. I was pretty annoyed about the whole thing as we had been getting on really well, and I knew that in order to try and get her out of my system I had to go out and pull a better looking girl. Maybe Tresco called his missus a slag and this is what triggered his 'stress injury', but we will never know.

Unfortunately, this failed as my confidence was shot, plus a lot of the women hanging around York's nightspots on the weekend in question were complete dogs. On top of this, eveyone I told about the story failed to brighten my mood. Instead of people saying 'There are plenty more fish in the sea', the general concensus was 'You're a f*cking idiot'. There wasn't much time to go until the trip to Vegas, so after a couple of nights heavy drinking I decided the best thing was not approach any other chicks until we got to the States.

America came and went without any success in the pulling department, in fact while we were out there I hardly tried as there were so many other diversions (gambling). After we returned I couldn't be bothered Blogging as I was so jetlagged I slept most evenings. Luckily, I managed to end my drought last night in the tried and trusted manner of Ziggy's nightclub (Before you ask - yes, she was legal, and no, it wasn't a stripper).

I feel now that the air of gloom has been lifted and I can get back to some hardcore blogging. The plan was to serialise the Vegas adventures over 4 or 5 entries starting today, but I woke up with the worst hangover known to man and haven't felt like typing all day. Sometimes people say 'I have the worst hangover ever', but they don't really mean the worst ever. They probably haven't been hit in the back of the head at point blank range by a paintball travelling at 180MPH before embarking on their drinking session. But i'll leave that story for another day...