Number 27: Make a fifty quid bet

A challenge that possibly doesn't jump off the List as being that much of a milestone to be achieved. In short if you don't like gambling or betting then this is possibly quite a stupid task to attempt. However if you've ever stood in William hill twiddling a blue pen and thinking maybe, just maybe this one is going to come off and planning what you're going to do with the money before you've even won it-then you know what its all about.
I came quite late into the betting game. Just two years ago up in Edinburgh I recall watching a WestHam Tottenham game with Gantie and being mildly amused by his agitated state,  as he agonisingly missed out on £150 quid due to West Ham being incapable of summoning a goal. With the beginning of the next season I took up the blue pen myself and found that the landscape of my Saturdays had changed. No longer was I casually scanning final score, now I was sat on my laptop, in a pub or even with my face pressed up against the glass window of Currys. Have Brighton equalised? Are Bolton still winning?Is that security guard about to ask me to leave?
Before people start thinking, where does Naylor get the money for this caper?I will level with you, I'm not talking about high stakes here. In fact before I completed the bet for my blog the most money I'd ever bet in my life was five pounds.It was that sum which gave me my first ever win which happened earlier this season. I had correctly predicted that Man utd would beat liverpool 3-2 and then forgotten all about it. Which saw me in the bizarre situation of walking round a photography exhibition of Chernobyl victims with my girlfriend and her mum, all the time getting frantic text updates on my phone from Gantie. Minutes later I'm expressing my horror at the harrowing images in front of me while also realising that I'm now £175 quid richer thanks to Dimitar Berbatov, Liverpools defence and an absent minded sunday afternoon flutter.
The rules on this challenge were simple, to get the stake for the bet I needed to make it from a bet. I didn't want to use any of my meagre salary on such a high risk gamble. I haven't got big enough balls for that. So it came to find me sat in the sunshine of highbury park with my beautiful lady friend on the last but one weekend of the season. As we enjoyed the surroundings of the park and witnessed Sonia Jackson from eastenders eating a twister(or five) I leapt into the air as thanks to Frank Lampard scoring a consolation for chelsea, Gantie was £700 quid richer, I was £120 quid richer and the challenge was on!
Now I didn't want to put the bet on online, If i was going to go out then I wanted the buzz of doing it to be greater. So it was I called in the third part of my gambling axis of evil-my father and good friend Dai Naylor. With dangerous Dai on board there was only going to be one place we were heading. So it came to pass that on Saturday 28th May I stepped into the Leicester Square Casino with the express intention of dropping fifty pounds on either red or black on roulette. picture below of me looking nervous and incredibly hungover pre bet thanks to ganties bday celebrations the previous night.

I was flusher than I thought I was going to be due to triumphing with a £2 bet on the champions league final which handed me another forty quid to play with. Despite this I still admit to cowering behind dai with my hands over my eyes as about half hour into our casino session we decided it was time to drop the bigun. The wheel had gone to black the last six spins and I decided to go for it. The spin seemed to take forever but soon the little white ball was dropping into place on....RED! I kissed the top of Dais head and scooped up my winnings. I'd like to say that I rode the bet and banged another fifty straight on. I didn't though, we stayed for another hour and a bit but my heart or bank balance couldn't stand another high roll. As it was I left the casino thirty quid up and treated Dai and me to a taxi home.Challenge completed!
I will leave you with three quotes:

"If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;"

Rudyard Kipling


Gambling: The sure way of getting nothing from something.  ~Wilson Mizner
" If Afc Wimbledon beat Crawley then I'll win a tenner. Gambling is life"

Lee Gant

Number 7: Climb a British Mountain

The British mountain part of this challenge wasn't just a nod to the fact that economically I will probably never manage to leave these shores again. I mean it was mainly that but also because I do have previous mountaineering experience.Five years ago while a bright eyed young English teacher in Japan I scaled the mighty mount Fuji on the eve of my 25th birthday. Fittingly years later and now more of a bitter/journeyman English teacher I set off to Snowdon with one of the same people I had scaled Japans highest peak with, my good friend and one of Hulls finest John Ullyet. Making up the trio was of course the other half of London's most unpolished sketch act Mr Lee Gant.
The mood of the trip was captured instantly as having told the lads to be at Euston for half eight to catch the eight fifty train, I swanned up at about 8.47 myself having had to return home for my wallet. With Gantie nowhere to be seen, Mr Ullyet and myself boarded the train cursing the fact that the bumbling Leicester bred idiot had the tent with him. Visions of Gant sprawled under a pub table in crouch end wearing only hiking boots and crying flooded my mind as I turned the air blue.Then a familiar voice from behind me confirmed that he was on the train and the trip was back on. Edmund Hillary and the boys we weren't.
After an uneventful journey to Bangor we boarded the bus to Snowdon increasingly aware that we were leaving it a bit late to get up and down one of the highest mountains in Britain. The ominous blackening skies seemed to be frowning down at us as we arrived at the campsite and began what can only be described as a shambolic attempt to put up the tent. I cant really say anything as I didn't really do anything apart from hand pegs to Ullyets strong northern hands. A troop of experienced campers watched us and sneered as we eventually managed to get the tent looking a bit like the picture on the bag. Time was running out and it was 4.15 before we were on the right path to snowdon after two abortive attempts. With the climb estimated to take five hours up and down we were going to have to work hard to beat the dark.Picture below of me and John before the climb:

So it was then that our expedition began. The hundreds of normal people gaped at us in disbelief as we swaggered in the opposite direction to them and headed up the hill. The beautiful scenery was accompanied by some pretty tasty weather and we were soon all soaked to the bone and becoming increasingly dismayed by the fact that the peak seemed to be getting further and further away. There was also a bit of a dense mist settling in and by the time we settled down for a cup of tea in the halfway hut visibility was getting poor. This fact didn't stop Gantie and I from buying a postcard each and engaging in our usual abusive banter that we probably could have left till later. I'm not going to lie, the final stretch was hard, it was misty, it was freezing and  the going was getting hard. Digging in we kept the image of a well deserved pint in our heads and powered for the summit. At just after 6.40 we did it.I'd like to treat you to a picture of a beautiful shot of rural wales but to be honest it was so misty this photo could have been taken anywhere. It wasn't though, it was up the top of Snowdon, you can ask John and Gantie!

Shortly after this second photo, Mr ullyet succumbed to a bit of vertigo and in his words " Had to get out of there pal!" . The mercurial Northener was soon just a speck in the distance as he arrowed in on the pint and started descending the mountain double quick. Gantie and I eventually caught him up and we all basked in the glory of a job well done. Then with his customary awfulness Gantie exclaimed that
"No ones stacked it yet. It would be well funny if someone stacked it!"
Cometh the hour, cometh the man I stepped up and embarked on a spectacular fall that saw me fall head first into a gnarly mountain rock and bounce up with what I initially thought was a fractured skull. The boys had the good grace to not laugh for five minutes although I could tell gantie was biting his cheek. Here in all its glory was my injury:

Once my worst fear had subsided( I would have to get stitches and wouldn't be able to drink) we completed the descent and wandered into a friendly looking mountain hostelry. If we'd made a few misjudged moves earlier in the day then heading into the Pen-Y-Ceunant tea house certainly made up for that. As soon as we stumbled in our new friend Steven was pouring us three beers, popping TCP on my war wound and then putting our soaked clothes in his tumble dryer as we chilled out in front of the fire.I can fully recommend visiting Steven if you are in the Snowdon area, check out his website on www.snowdoncafe.com.

He's da man!

Here's Gantie and I with our aforementioned host.That's about that then for this challenge, big thanks to my fellow climbers and to Alan Cusack for the kind loan of his tent!Challenge Seven completed!

Number 15: Memorize 50 randomly selected capital cities

From first glance probably a bit of a weird one. The reason for this challenge was a bit of nostalgia and to prove a little point to myself. When I was younger I loved geography. Not geography that you end up getting taught in school that seemed to consist of different types of farming and words like fallow. I used to like learning about different countries and all the different capital cities. When I was eight I must have known every capital in the world and on my ninth birthday I even had a birthday cake that was specially made with a map of the world on it.You are probably thinking:
A) I bet you were beaten up regularly as a child
B) Not much of a challenge if you know them all already is it.
Alas, it came to pass that knowing all the capital cities in the world didn't really impress girls or all the cool kids in school. It became more about who could roll a spliff or look the surliest whilst drinking a bottle of white lightening. It breaks my heart when I look back now and see myself sat in my room looking at my big book of countries, as happy as larry.
Anyway you get the picture so for this challenge to mean anything I knew I had to go further and learn more than just the run of the mill capitals. Which is why most of April saw me wandering around repeating unpronounceable places in my head. Countries such as Madagascar, Liberia, Uzbekistan and Tajikstan and cities such as Antanarivo, Villnius, Abuja and Gaborne became as familiar to my addled brain as the names of the Thundercats. So it was then that I came to be tested by my good friend Laura Hill and filmed on my cousins IPhone, managing to name all fifty with a little help on the last one!If you want to see this challenge in full then check out the link below and remember.....we've all forgotten the capital of Gabon, once in our lives!
Challenge fifteen completed. This one belongs to a cleverer lad than me so I'll give him the glory in the photo

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1hfSpnchhxI

Number 5: Write to 5 people I admire

A relatively easy challenge then but one that caused me to put quite a lot of thought into as well as a couple of tears. Without wanting to sound like Sid Vicious, I have never really had any famous heroes as I always quite arrogantly thought I would be as good as them if I had a bit more luck. The five people I chose to write to aren't massive celebrities, but they have all affected my life in a positive way and made me think" why am I such a moaning arsehole".
In no particular order the people I wrote to were:

Jane Tomlinson's family
Bald blogger Adrian Sudburys parents
My Dad
My mate Ben
My Friend Andrew Marsh's parents

If you haven't heard of Jane Tomlinson then check out this link

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jane_Tomlinson

Or read one of her books-The Luxury of time or You Cant Take it with You. I know for a fact if I got cancer I would sit in a chair crying for about two months and then hate the world. I very much doubt I would have the courage to leave a legacy with the time I had left. This is exactly what Jane and the next person I wrote to " Adrian Sudbury/bald blogger" achieved.

If you have a spare hour at all over the weekend then visit:

http://baldyblog.freshblogs.co.uk/bone-marrow-donation/

And read the archives of Adrian's blog before he died. I was feeling a bit whiny one day and read it and then cried for about half an hour. Heroes.

Number three on my list was my Dad which is probably a bit of a cliche but fuck it. I owe this man everything including about eight million quid which he has never made me feel bad for. Thanks Dai.

I don't want to bang on about my friend Ben because he is a private guy and wouldn't appreciate it, but he went through a lot last year and came out the other side having taken it all on the chin. Nice one Benno.

Last but certainly not least I wrote to my friend Marshies parents Julian and Carole. Marshy was killed a couple of years ago in a tragic accident at the age of just twenty four. The dignity and bravery that Julian, Carole and Andrew's sister  Claire have shown since this awful news has been immense.They really are three very special people. I know this wont help them at all but I just wanted to let me know I was thinking of them.

No big photo needed for this challenge but the most rewarding one I have completed so far.

Number 10: Run the 100m in less than 15 seconds.

One thing I learnt at Finsbury park athletics track yesterday morning was that 100m is a lot longer than it look on the telly, or in childhood memories. As I stretched out my pasty hamstrings and looked at the finishing line in the distance it began to seem less and less of a good idea. The plan had been to make a race of it and get five or six of us down there so that I could comfortably finish in the middle. As it turned out due to late weekend trips, distance from finsbury park and enthusiasm for the task it left just myself and my younger, fitter former international rugby playing brother to race it out. At least both our girlfriends were there to watch as well as our Dad. I face the risk of losing pride, the respect of my lady, the challenge and my fathers love all in one fifteen second swoop!

With timing being the main issue,the problem was having to give Georgina the responsibility for stopping the watch as I crossed the line. I know myself that stopwatches can play up, if she was to press the wrong button I could be left with the appalling dilemma of having to turn around and do the sprint again. This could NOT happen. So it was down to the kindness of Erran a sprinter who was training down at the track and agreed to jog(yes jog!) along beside us and press stop as soon as my feet touched the line. With all this arranged there was nothing left to do but assume starting positions, try not to look at my brothers superior leg muscles and just give it everything I had, once.

Seeing as this is my blog and none of you were there I could say that I swept past my brother and waited for him to trundle home. As the picture above shows although  that wasn't the case, I was not in any means disgraced and most importantly I crossed the line in the time shown below:

That's right, make way Usain! If the Olympic champion should somehow become five seconds slower and start hanging around finsbury park on a morning that I didn't have a hangover...............I reckon I'd have him!
Challenge completed and the knees held on magnificently!Pic below of the sprinters post race!

Thanks again to Tim Naylor for getting up on a Saturday and sprinting despite having a cup final to play later. oh yeah and also for easing off a bit at the end.Cheers bruv!

Biting off too much....

Ello, Just wanted to update in case it appeared I had given up on the whole thing and moved to a small cottage in dorset to see out my days. Had a big weekend planned on Saturday as I was due to be attempting my marathon. However two weeks ago disaster struck as I was slogging through the fifth mile of a training run and my knee completely gave up. It was a harsh reminder of two things:
1) I have shown scant respect for how hard it actually is to train for a marathon. I figured if pensioners can run them dressed as Polar Bears then I should be alright.I barely got past twelve miles without shattering my joints.
2) I am actually getting near the age when some people have to retire from football forever. I could push on and have a crack this weekend but would possibly have to add number 31 to my list as: Have corrective knee surgery.
So that means that knees allowing I'm due to be hitting finsbury park athletic track this saturday for my 100m sprint.Im looking to get in under fifteen seconds and was feeling quietly confident but would now except 14.99 seconds just to get it done. Got a few of the lads involved to push on the pace and possibly carry me the two miles home as my knee caps have slid off.
So hopefully after some rest and having bought a new pair of trainers( my old trainers were three years old and had no heels left. Apparently this is bad) I will live to see another long distance sprint.Will keep you posted on whether this happens in time to complete the challenge.If not suggestions accepted here for a replacement one!

Number 14:Get my Palm Read

Another challenge completed then and not the most physically taxing of my list. The idea of getting my palm read occurred mainly because a mate of mine Aliwyn, is a top notch palm reader, and also because I thought that at the least it would be very interesting. I meet Ali at a pub in Holborn and she fills me in a bit on the science of palm reading. Basically I realise that shes not going to tell me the exact date of my wedding or next weeks euro millions numbers, rather the possibilities that lie ahead for me,
I must admit that I was relieved to find out I have a strong life line and barring any tragedies I should be able to at least see out this blog. Ali was also able to tell me that my line riddled hand ,that I had often been mocked for as being like a pensioners,  simply meant that I was bursting with energy and creativity. The biggest results of the reading were:
A: I have a feint but readable success line, which many people don't have!
B: I am far too sensitive to ever be a murderer!

So as long as I keep chipping away at the writing lark there is every chance that I may end up doing it professionally one day. In these troubling times for the British economy it was also good to hear that i will always find steady work.After finishing the reading and letting it settle in I actually felt really good. Until I realised that I have no excuses. If the palms had said that it wasn't really my fault I could have resigned my self to a life of self loathing and special brew. The palms have spoken and I have a success line to live up to, one more episode of Scubs and I'll get cracking!Photo below of me and the talented Aliwyn Cole.

Six challenges completed, twenty four to go and now just 110 days till Thirty.