Thankfully I brought these tickets well in advance so I will actually see some sport. First up was Hockey.
The previous night England's men's team had lost in the semis to India on penalties after a 3-3 draw. The women has also fallen in the semis,
which meant that they'd be playing South Africa for the bronze.
Thanks to India's love of hockey it was pleasing to see a decent crowd and an even more decent venue.
I was greeted by the oddest sign yet at the games. I still don't understand what it was trying to say.
Temperatures pitch side were over 40 degrees and hence didn't make for good hockey. I don't remember South Africa as being a power in women's hockey but they played quite well. England seemingly drained by the competition and
the heat played quite a tactical game, some might say poor. The only goal came from a bit of a hit and hope. Thankfully it went to England. Not a classic but a medal none the less.
After a short break spent re-hydrating (still no drinks in the venue) and some bird watching the final bullied-off.
Australia v New Zealand turned out to be a great game. The Aussies steamrollered the Kiwis early on and it looked like a thumping was on the cards. Somehow they got to half-time only 1-0 down but I didn't fancy there chances.
What do I know. The match ended drawn at 2-2 so it was off to golden goals. Much in the nature of football golden goals both teams were more worried about losing than winning. Hence the dreaded penalties. I don't know why but New Zealand never looked like winning, they were, to a girl, knackered
and were soundly beaten 4-2. Why they didn't gamble in the golden goals defeats me.
Two good games but they'd have been so much better played in the evening. When the temperature drops below 30.
Next up were the boxing finals. I was picked up by out travel company and we started off to the venue. The only problem was that it didn't open for 2 hours. I tried to explain to our guide Vinny that I didn't want to sit out side a venue for 2 hours and to drop me in Connaught Place and I'd have some lunch and get a cab to the venue.
He was having none of it and said he couldn't leave me. I'm not sure if he feared for my safety or his bonus. We settled on going to McDonalds were I eat and drank and he read the paper and played on his phone. Sitting on the pavement outside the venue now seemed the better option.
Arriving early I got talking to an Irish couple who gave me the rundown on the afternoon's final; the running order for this evening; a general form guide and most of their life history.
Would you believe it they'd lived for 26 years in Balham south London two roads from where I was born. Small world.
A wondrous sight met me as I entered the boxing arena. Not a bar or some of those scantily clad round number girls you get at Ceasar's Palace. No, none other than the CWG mascot Shera.
Now I 've gone on about the absence of merchandising but we've also missed out on a 'real live' Shera. Something of a Frostie's tiger rip-off, he adorns many a billboard in Delhi.
As a good mascot does he waved, clapped, had is picture taken and even signed autographs. What a pity we were now less than 24hrs from the closing ceremony.
From the home countries there were 3 English boxers and 2 Northern Irish. The bouts went something like this:-
- India walkover against a Kenyan. All the lad had to do was get into the ring and he'd win. In a show of Amir Khan style theatrics he chose to flip over the top rope and proceeded to fall on his arse.
I laughed out load ... nobody else did.
- India whoops English man who seemed to have forgotten all his boxing basics. If you're going to fight the local lad either score loads of points or knock him out. He did neither.
- Irish man give boxing master class. My man from Balham had tipped me this boxer call Eamon O'Kane. Unlucky for me he was facing an English lad and I was sitting with his mum, dad, two (useful looking) mates and two (stunning looking) sisters.
Balham man was proved right as Eamon boxed beautifully. The score was flattering but he deserved victory. My reward, consolatory hand shakes from the family and a kiss from mum. I didn't chance a kiss from the sisters in case the mates took offence.
- English man TKO's Irish man who didn't seem interested and turned his back after 90 seconds. This left the locals bemused. There answer was to boo the English lad, both from the ring and during the medal ceremony.
Terribly bad form. I bet they wouldn't have done it to his face.
- Last up was another Indian against a huge Trinidadian. The guy had muscles on his muscles and look like he'd eat Rocky for breakfast. I sort of wanted him to KO the Indian as there fans were starting to annoy me.
No such luck. The muscle mountain had forgotten two important things. Technique and stamina. He was as mobile as a wardrobe, couldn't hit the proverbial barn door and had less stamina than my mum.
Funniest sight of the evening. The Indian teenage lads try to decide whether to get a picture with their new gold medallists or with the pretty young Irish girls. We'll call that one a draw.
I fun night all round.
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