Transcript:Frieda Monk of Nottingham had poor timing.
On 11 April 1936, so eager was she to be the first camper at the newly opened Butlins holiday camp in Skegness that she rocked up at the gates in her finest apparel, determined to enjoy whatever this fancy new experience had to offer.
Sadly for her, she was a day too early. The grand opening was the following day. She’d got her dates mixed up.
No doubt the red coats inside the camp were wondering what this person hanging outside was up to while they swept up, polished the boards and made final adjustments to the fitting of their famous blazers.
Being generally good eggs, they invited her in anyway, gave her dinner, and a chalet to stay in… although no doubt the smell of fresh paint wafted around Frieda Monk’s nostrils all night.
Frieda Monk’s timing was not great.
Neither was Ben Folds’. After achieving a degree of success in the 90s with his three-piece band, confusingly called Ben Folds Five, he decided to go solo and made an album all by himself, one in which he played the majority of the instruments - even the drums - talented know-it-all that he is.
But there was a slight snafu - this debut album - Rocking the Suburbs - was released on 11 September 2001 - a day in which it is fair to say that other things happened.
Ben’s timing was not great either.
The Slade brothers timing - or more specifically, the timing of a train in Southampton on April 10th 1912 - was substantially luckier.
On April 6th, 1912, brothers Alfred, Tom and Bertram Slade all signed on as firemen on the Titanic. After reporting on board at 8 am on April 10th, they decided to pass the time before boarding in one of Southampton’s many pubs, specifically, The Grapes - conveniently close to the docks. At 11.15 they were joined by crewmates John Podesta and William Nutbean, who had been drinking elsewhere but decided to chance one last drink with the Slades.
Eventually - and no doubt suitably imbibed - they left The Grapes to make their way to the Titanic. However, a passenger train on its way to the docks drew up and blocked their way.
They had left it late and were now cutting it fine, and the train was a long one.
The Slades were quite relaxed and according to Podesta said, “Oh let the train go by.”
However, Podesta, Nutbean and a fireman from the ship were not to be deterred and didn’t want to risk being late, so they dashed across the train lines just in front of the train, leaving the Slade brothers behind.
By the time the brothers reached the White Star dock, it was 11.59, and the gangplank was just being drawn up. The officer in charge of the gangway refused to lower it. As it happened, and the Titanic being a bit of a big deal and supposedly a good gig to get, firemen and workers were in plentiful supply around Southampton docks that day and the Slade Brothers were replaced. They did not board the big boat.
Those who replaced the Slade brothers did not return.
The timing of that train worked out rather well for the Slade Brothers. Their timing was good.
(Since you were wondering, John Podesta and William Nutbean managed to survive the sinking.)
Someone else who has good timing? Danilo dos Santos de Oliveira. Danny or Daniel or Danilo to you and me. (Quite liking Daniel to be honest though.)
The clocks have gone back, April is in full swing, lambs are frolicking, and Easter eggs have been consumed. Chico’s time came and went - it’s now Danilo time. Danilo is no longer typing. Danilo has entered the chat.
Just like last year, his rummaging around down the back of the sofa has come up trumps as amongst the fluff, crisps and uneaten boiled sweets, he has found his form and is goddam going to use it. This time last year, he scored three in successive games, and he was at it again on Saturday.
His timing is good.
Bad timing? Well…not so much bad timing as continued lack of timing to head or kick the round thing far away from our goal when defending a corner kick. But we know all about this…it does none of us any good to dwell on it. No good can come of this.
Divock Origi could not have picked a better time to scamper clear on goal in the ninetieth minute…. but a metaphorical train blocked the path to his goal. Unlike Podesta and Nutbeam, he did not take decisive action, but rather like the Slade Brothers, dithered and dallied and just waited for fate to take its own course. The ball sailed into the doldrums between the far post and Chris Wood. His timing and accuracy was not great.
Oh god…Everton - with their battering ram attack reminiscent of cannonballs raining down like the battle of Helm’s Deep or the slings and arrows of outrageous bad fortune like in the Battle of the bastards. It’s going to be muck, netttles, bee stings, paper cuts, stubbed toes, banged heads, smashes to the skull, knees to the chest, tummy aches, standing on rakes, bitten tongues and things going wrong.
Or maybe it’s not. Maybe everything is going to be alright. Not fantastic or life-affirming…. but just about alright.
In a week in which North America enjoyed a total eclipse, we are going to need some heroes…. ideally, ones with excellent timing.
Forest 2-2 Wolves 13 April 2024