Amid the chaos that was the Commonwealth Games Rugby 7's on Sunday 27th July, a combination of circumstances brought me to the Sportsman's door. Well, to be entirely accurate it brought me to the queue which stretched about twenty yards outta their door, but in a day of more queues than a Russian supermarket I was glad to squeeze in.
Arriving too early for our session set in motion a beaurocratic nightmare that would have made even the Immigration Service grunt in sympathy, and in the intervening two hours I needed a munch.
After a 400 yard trudge round the numerous, ahem, 'outlets' in the stadium, I realised that paying 8 quid for a skanky hotdog and chips would have killed any desire I had mustered up to eat it, and an alternative was required. Quickly...
Luckily the Sportsman was only a 200 yard wade through a crowd of tourists, coppers from Newcastle and a gaggle of foam- finger wielding Games volunteers, and the wait in the queue was minimal.
Like other businesses in the area, the Sportsman had jacked their prices up a wee bit, but only enough to cover the cost of the extra staff that kept up great levels of service during this insanity.
Being a traditionalist, I opted for the steak pie supper, and with an icy can of ginger beer to wash it down, the tab was only 4 quid. And worth every penny...
The chips were what you'd hope for from a traditional chippy, scorching and plentiful, and the pie was done to a turn, crispy and loaded with the good material.
On a day like that, things should have went badly wrong; tens of thousands of people from 20 different countries, all let loose and wandering around bumping into walls, it SHOULD have ended in tears. And maybe in some cases it did, but for me, I queued to get back into the Rugby with a beatific grin, a pleasantly full belly and a slight nagging impression that I needed to pee soon. Hey, it meant I didn't kill and eat a wee wandering tourist... read more