TSP in Tignes, 19th to 27th October 2007 “There’s Alain Baxter!”
This is TSP’s October 2007 Tignes Diary. I’d stake my reputation as a tedious raconteur that the whole of this record bears some relation to the truth. Cross my heart and hope to die, terrapins tickle me if I lie.
‘twas on the 19th October that our flotilla set sail for France. Well apart from the Gardners who chose to go under the channel.
Our intrepid leader, as ever, was Chantelle, ably supported by chief engineer Rorie ‘Scottie’ Scott and apprentice coach Phil Gardner.
There can have been few occasions when so many families swelled TSP’s ranks in a trip abroad. The Goddard-Jones’ were there of course, though Andy was left to look after things at home. They were joined by clan Holdsworth, Poth, Innes, Marment, Mitchell, Andrew, Paine and Gardner.
The racers were Brodie and Briony G-J, Lauren and Jack Holdsworth, Dan and Rob Poth, Iain and Robbie Innes, Creagle and Robyn Marment, Fraser and Olivia Mitchell, Oliver Andrew, Tom Paine and the ageless Chris Gardner.
No James Howells however, as he had rejected the icy wastes of Tignes for Florida in the New Colonies. I’m told that he’s likely to be entertained by an overgrown rodent called Mickey, and that his meals will largely comprise road kills.
The trip down the French motorway was sort of Cannon Ball Run meets Top Gear. The only casualty was Tim Andrew in his Bugatti Veyron. He was fined 45 Euros for exceeding one (or two) hundred miles an hour by a really polite traffic cop. In his defence, Tim had said he was a distraught Welsh rugby fan who’d lost his sense of direction, and that was enough to cheer-up said cop.
Oh and Chantelle found that the roof of the car parking level of the Bec Rouge apartment block (home for the week) was only slightly lower than the height of her ‘bus’. I guess they are both the same now.
Sunday morning greeted the tourists with temperatures of minus 7 at Le Lac and a breezy minus 11 at the Glacier. Naturally Phil Gardner decided no coat was necessary, and Fraser had to be persuaded against shorts and tea shirt. They and the others survived a gentle day of acclimatisation and technical exercises served up by the coaching team.
That evening, most of the party headed to the Alpaka Hotel for the World Rugby Cup Final. Boring old England against the tournament favourites South Africa. Predictably one game too far for England though they showed up well, cheered on by TSP’s sirens Claire Holdsworth, Claire Mitchell and Jenni Gardner. In the end England lost on penalties (sound familiar?) to a blonde Africaner called Percy though, rather than the more customary Ayrian Franz or Fritz.
Scottish skiing God, Alain Baxter was staying at the Alpaka. He’s a top man and followed the Team around for the next few days. He’s also handy to have with you if you’ve got a stuffed up nose. He sent Creagle the following message:
“Hello mon, I’m Alain Baxter. Welcome to the Team Slalom Plus Tignes diary 2007. Thanks for pointing me out Creagle? See you later”
So sure enough, Alain was with us on the train on Monday morning, and sought autographs and photos from the team on the terrace of the top station. After a short while we sent him away, as there was training to be done.
For Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday the weather stayed cold and bright, allowing GS runs in the morning and slalom after lunch. Not for me as a mere trainee to assess my colleagues, but seemed to me that Dan and Rob Poth and Brodie were on something containing high octane, and no one was holding out any. Creagle was also looking in fine nick, good news for next week’s final Race League.
On Monday night, Dave and Chris broke curfew to watch Newcastle v Spurs on Setanta at the Alpaka. Think Dave realises that if he wants to watch a good footballing team that plays in black and white stripes, he’d best go to the New Lawn and catch up with Forest Green Rovers. Setanta promised “more football later in the week – Stalybridge Celtic v Blyth Spartans”. Sorry, guys, not worth an extra tenner on my Sky subs.
Anyhow, Tuesday morning found the author suffering from a combination of altitude sickness and sleep deprivation. Certainly nothing to do with the jugs of lager served up at the Alpaka to mask the awful fayre from St James Park.
Meantime, Phil Gardner was having loads of trouble with his boots. Rorie had the answer and took him over to Nevada sports where two blow jobs later, the boots were much more comfortable. Involved a lot of friction heat and a bit of grinding so I was informed. In fact, I was so impressed that I visited Nevada later in the week for some boot treatment too.
Back at base camp Bec Rouge, the Innes were as hyperactive as ever. Nicki was like a dog with an unlimited supply of lamp-posts. So many mountains to run up and down. It’s exhausting to watch her.
Wednesday was a full day with everyone sparking well on the morning GS course. However, the it got harder on the icy slalom run during the afternoon with Chris managing to smash his slalom skis and ski boots. Not so Simon, who skipped down the course like a ballerina, midway performing one of the best recoveries seen in the Haute Savoie.
That afternoon, after turning down loads of offers, Chantelle allowed some of the TSP squad to model for a top Dutch ski magazine. Thus, Oliver, Creagle, Iain, Lauren, and Olivia landed 120 Euros each and developed some expensive tastes that their parents may live to regret.
An excellent evening meal followed, at one on the few bars open at Le Lac. Much was learned about Phil and Claire’s contrasting lifestyles while he works away in London. He lives like a hermit every night at his company flat at Kingston, too bushed (tired that is) to contemplate going out. In the meantime, Claire flashes the plastic with her mates at Cheltenham’s top fashion stores. Did I hear that right guys?
So much happened on Thursday that its difficult to know where to start. There was a blizzard scouring the top station and glacier. Sure enough, Phil decided that a jacket wasn’t required. But a few yards on the first chair lift was enough for Chantelle to recall the team to the shelter of the restaurant.
Now subtlety is not Creagle’s middle name. “There’s Alain Baxter!” he fog-horned (just before Alain could utter “there’s Creagle”). Once again he insisted on being surrounded by Team Slalom Plus, getting as many photos and autographs from them as possible. I guess he was seeking coolness by association.
But Creagle wasn’t finished yet. “There’s Roland Fischnaller!” …. ”There’s Patrick Staudacher!” ….. ”There’s Yannick Bertrand!”
One by one, the top international world cup skiers came to pay their respects to Team Slalom Plus, and listen attentively to the life experiences of Creagle, Fraser, Brodie, Robbie, Robyn, Olivia, Jack and co. Roland, Patrick and Yannick asked them to pass on their compliments to the diary:
“Bonjourno, this is Roland Fischnaller and Patrick Staudacher. Enjoy the Team Slalom Plus Tignes diary 2007. Oh and be sure to tell James Howells that Audi gives us R8’s now ‘cos only, ‘ow you say, hairdressers drive A3 Turbo Sports. Arrivaderci, Olivia cara”.
“Allo mes amis, Yannick Bertrand ‘ere. Bienvenue to the Team Slalom Plus Tignes diary, 2007. You’re cool Robbie but tell your English amis that they can’t play Rugby, heh? Au revoir”.
“Look there’s Alain Baxter!” Er no Creagle, he’s gone home.
As the blizzard eased back to a gale, the Team set off for the training piste in good heart. But things were to take a dark turn.
Chris, Rorie and Chantelle prepared to mount the chair lift, heavily laden with skis, poles and other paraphernalia. Was it a subtle nudge? Had Rorie accepted James’ contract on me. No matter, seconds later I was plunging to certain death on the jagged rocks below.
My life flashed before me, highlights too many to list all. Why had I been passed over as BBC Sportsman of the year so many times? How had Botham been selected ahead of me in 1981? What a senseless waste of outstanding sporting talent my sudden death would be!
But as quickly as I had fallen I was granted a reprieve. Luckily the ground broke my fall and I rose unscathed other than scratches to my black bases. The angels had saved me for better things.
As the commotion died down, the Team resumed its route to the pistes, but with the dark cloud of suspicion and intrigue hanging over.
A shortened training stint saw the racers making their way back to the top station restaurant by early afternoon. Phil Gardner was supervising his mini minis onto the T bar beside the training piste, with some of the parents close-by. Without warning the dastardly Essex Free Style Mongrel Skiers clattered in. At their lead was a spoiled cur called Wayne (probably). He pushed and shoved the youngsters, muttering obscenities only taught at the most exclusive educational academies.
Phil was quick to intervene. “Hey fellow, kindly leave my young charges alone. Go and resume your proper place in the queue, and be quick about it”. Amazing, Phil had assumed the character of Tom Brown, School days and all.
Then he thought, “what would Nick Marment have said? I know!”
“Ok laddee, I think we’ve had enough of this. Cut along”.
The effect was instantaneous. Wayne turned into a cowering, whimpering puppy, capable only of muttering epithets to Phil’s back, as the TSP party made its way to the restaurant. But he was still able to cause trouble and sobbed a tissue of lies to his obese bully of a father, Wayne senior.
Wayne senior waddled up to Chantelle, spoiling for a confrontation. He spat out some incoherent insults to skiers in general and Phil in particular, before lurching back to the cave he’d left minutes before.
Momentarily stunned by this unprovoked assault, Chantelle went into flashback.
It was a year earlier, at Tignes. Wayne was careering out of control towards her TSP minis as he tried to jump the lift queue. She succeeded in shielding the minis but then was hit by the lunatic cur. She fought for her balance but then fell, agonisingly slowly, towards a yawning crevasse, facing death as Chris did 12 months later. She too was saved, as her extra strong Team Slalom Plus hoodie (available at all good outfitters or through the TSP web site) caught on an overhanging ledge, and gave Rorie the opportunity to pull her to safety. Yet even as she struggled to come to terms with her near miss, Wayne Senior had made his appearance and rasped the same choice insults, as his fawning son crept away.
So, TSP had twice suffered at the hands of the Mongrels. Don’t count on a similar result in 2008.
For Friday, the weather had turned. Snow and high winds closed the glacier and a swift change of plan was called for. The TSP Superstars.
Three teams, all with combinations of the youngest racers and their creaking parents, strove for footballing supremacy. Claire Holdsworth shocked the packed stands by striking a sweet volley that settled the first game. Hard as Brodie, Creagle and the other young racers tried, their attacks were often blunted by the no nonsense tactics of their elders.
The second round of matches saw the kids plus Rorie and Phil, against the parents. Suddenly we were in the presence of genius, one Lazlo Poth. Time and again, he rose like a salmon to head home or beat defenders with a clinical volleyed finish. He was unstoppable and must have notched 7 or 10 by the time that Chantelle called a halt for lunch. Later it was rumoured that he had been a member of the famous Hungarian team led by Ferancz Puskas that thrashed a fancied England XI at Wembley.
So on this occasion experience had triumphed over talented youth.
The afternoon was heralded by the run around the lake, 1.5 miles per lap. Some fantastic performances here. Briony led home the mini-minis, with Robyn and Jack not far behind. Brodie devasted the older field, tracking pacemaker Nicki Innes before letting fly with a ruthless sprint for home at the end of his second lap. Iain and Creagle followed him with equally impressive runs.
Nick, Dave, Chris, Phil Mitch, Karen and Simon also weighed in for the adults with respectable runs over one or two laps. Claire Holdsworth and Jenni walked their lap, still a good effort. Fortunately for the men Claire Mitchell claimed some medical knowledge, and was able to confirm their A1 post race health, using her own groin-pulse-taking technique. Unusual, but seemed to sharpen them up some.
And so ends the October 2007 Tignes Diary. Saturday morning will permit some slalom training for all, if the weather holds up, but yours truly will be heading home by mid morning.
What a brilliant week. Thanks are due especially to Chantelle, Rorie and Phil. But the superb young racers played a full part, and the many families turned a training camp into a memorable break.
Bring on the final round of Summer Race League on 3rd November!
Chris Gardner 26th October 2007
‘twas on the 19th October that our flotilla set sail for France. Well apart from the Gardners who chose to go under the channel.
Our intrepid leader, as ever, was Chantelle, ably supported by chief engineer Rorie ‘Scottie’ Scott and apprentice coach Phil Gardner.
There can have been few occasions when so many families swelled TSP’s ranks in a trip abroad. The Goddard-Jones’ were there of course, though Andy was left to look after things at home. They were joined by clan Holdsworth, Poth, Innes, Marment, Mitchell, Andrew, Paine and Gardner.
The racers were Brodie and Briony G-J, Lauren and Jack Holdsworth, Dan and Rob Poth, Iain and Robbie Innes, Creagle and Robyn Marment, Fraser and Olivia Mitchell, Oliver Andrew, Tom Paine and the ageless Chris Gardner.
No James Howells however, as he had rejected the icy wastes of Tignes for Florida in the New Colonies. I’m told that he’s likely to be entertained by an overgrown rodent called Mickey, and that his meals will largely comprise road kills.
The trip down the French motorway was sort of Cannon Ball Run meets Top Gear. The only casualty was Tim Andrew in his Bugatti Veyron. He was fined 45 Euros for exceeding one (or two) hundred miles an hour by a really polite traffic cop. In his defence, Tim had said he was a distraught Welsh rugby fan who’d lost his sense of direction, and that was enough to cheer-up said cop.
Oh and Chantelle found that the roof of the car parking level of the Bec Rouge apartment block (home for the week) was only slightly lower than the height of her ‘bus’. I guess they are both the same now.
Sunday morning greeted the tourists with temperatures of minus 7 at Le Lac and a breezy minus 11 at the Glacier. Naturally Phil Gardner decided no coat was necessary, and Fraser had to be persuaded against shorts and tea shirt. They and the others survived a gentle day of acclimatisation and technical exercises served up by the coaching team.
That evening, most of the party headed to the Alpaka Hotel for the World Rugby Cup Final. Boring old England against the tournament favourites South Africa. Predictably one game too far for England though they showed up well, cheered on by TSP’s sirens Claire Holdsworth, Claire Mitchell and Jenni Gardner. In the end England lost on penalties (sound familiar?) to a blonde Africaner called Percy though, rather than the more customary Ayrian Franz or Fritz.
Scottish skiing God, Alain Baxter was staying at the Alpaka. He’s a top man and followed the Team around for the next few days. He’s also handy to have with you if you’ve got a stuffed up nose. He sent Creagle the following message:
“Hello mon, I’m Alain Baxter. Welcome to the Team Slalom Plus Tignes diary 2007. Thanks for pointing me out Creagle? See you later”
So sure enough, Alain was with us on the train on Monday morning, and sought autographs and photos from the team on the terrace of the top station. After a short while we sent him away, as there was training to be done.
For Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday the weather stayed cold and bright, allowing GS runs in the morning and slalom after lunch. Not for me as a mere trainee to assess my colleagues, but seemed to me that Dan and Rob Poth and Brodie were on something containing high octane, and no one was holding out any. Creagle was also looking in fine nick, good news for next week’s final Race League.
On Monday night, Dave and Chris broke curfew to watch Newcastle v Spurs on Setanta at the Alpaka. Think Dave realises that if he wants to watch a good footballing team that plays in black and white stripes, he’d best go to the New Lawn and catch up with Forest Green Rovers. Setanta promised “more football later in the week – Stalybridge Celtic v Blyth Spartans”. Sorry, guys, not worth an extra tenner on my Sky subs.
Anyhow, Tuesday morning found the author suffering from a combination of altitude sickness and sleep deprivation. Certainly nothing to do with the jugs of lager served up at the Alpaka to mask the awful fayre from St James Park.
Meantime, Phil Gardner was having loads of trouble with his boots. Rorie had the answer and took him over to Nevada sports where two blow jobs later, the boots were much more comfortable. Involved a lot of friction heat and a bit of grinding so I was informed. In fact, I was so impressed that I visited Nevada later in the week for some boot treatment too.
Back at base camp Bec Rouge, the Innes were as hyperactive as ever. Nicki was like a dog with an unlimited supply of lamp-posts. So many mountains to run up and down. It’s exhausting to watch her.
Wednesday was a full day with everyone sparking well on the morning GS course. However, the it got harder on the icy slalom run during the afternoon with Chris managing to smash his slalom skis and ski boots. Not so Simon, who skipped down the course like a ballerina, midway performing one of the best recoveries seen in the Haute Savoie.
That afternoon, after turning down loads of offers, Chantelle allowed some of the TSP squad to model for a top Dutch ski magazine. Thus, Oliver, Creagle, Iain, Lauren, and Olivia landed 120 Euros each and developed some expensive tastes that their parents may live to regret.
An excellent evening meal followed, at one on the few bars open at Le Lac. Much was learned about Phil and Claire’s contrasting lifestyles while he works away in London. He lives like a hermit every night at his company flat at Kingston, too bushed (tired that is) to contemplate going out. In the meantime, Claire flashes the plastic with her mates at Cheltenham’s top fashion stores. Did I hear that right guys?
So much happened on Thursday that its difficult to know where to start. There was a blizzard scouring the top station and glacier. Sure enough, Phil decided that a jacket wasn’t required. But a few yards on the first chair lift was enough for Chantelle to recall the team to the shelter of the restaurant.
Now subtlety is not Creagle’s middle name. “There’s Alain Baxter!” he fog-horned (just before Alain could utter “there’s Creagle”). Once again he insisted on being surrounded by Team Slalom Plus, getting as many photos and autographs from them as possible. I guess he was seeking coolness by association.
But Creagle wasn’t finished yet. “There’s Roland Fischnaller!” …. ”There’s Patrick Staudacher!” ….. ”There’s Yannick Bertrand!”
One by one, the top international world cup skiers came to pay their respects to Team Slalom Plus, and listen attentively to the life experiences of Creagle, Fraser, Brodie, Robbie, Robyn, Olivia, Jack and co. Roland, Patrick and Yannick asked them to pass on their compliments to the diary:
“Bonjourno, this is Roland Fischnaller and Patrick Staudacher. Enjoy the Team Slalom Plus Tignes diary 2007. Oh and be sure to tell James Howells that Audi gives us R8’s now ‘cos only, ‘ow you say, hairdressers drive A3 Turbo Sports. Arrivaderci, Olivia cara”.
“Allo mes amis, Yannick Bertrand ‘ere. Bienvenue to the Team Slalom Plus Tignes diary, 2007. You’re cool Robbie but tell your English amis that they can’t play Rugby, heh? Au revoir”.
“Look there’s Alain Baxter!” Er no Creagle, he’s gone home.
As the blizzard eased back to a gale, the Team set off for the training piste in good heart. But things were to take a dark turn.
Chris, Rorie and Chantelle prepared to mount the chair lift, heavily laden with skis, poles and other paraphernalia. Was it a subtle nudge? Had Rorie accepted James’ contract on me. No matter, seconds later I was plunging to certain death on the jagged rocks below.
My life flashed before me, highlights too many to list all. Why had I been passed over as BBC Sportsman of the year so many times? How had Botham been selected ahead of me in 1981? What a senseless waste of outstanding sporting talent my sudden death would be!
But as quickly as I had fallen I was granted a reprieve. Luckily the ground broke my fall and I rose unscathed other than scratches to my black bases. The angels had saved me for better things.
As the commotion died down, the Team resumed its route to the pistes, but with the dark cloud of suspicion and intrigue hanging over.
A shortened training stint saw the racers making their way back to the top station restaurant by early afternoon. Phil Gardner was supervising his mini minis onto the T bar beside the training piste, with some of the parents close-by. Without warning the dastardly Essex Free Style Mongrel Skiers clattered in. At their lead was a spoiled cur called Wayne (probably). He pushed and shoved the youngsters, muttering obscenities only taught at the most exclusive educational academies.
Phil was quick to intervene. “Hey fellow, kindly leave my young charges alone. Go and resume your proper place in the queue, and be quick about it”. Amazing, Phil had assumed the character of Tom Brown, School days and all.
Then he thought, “what would Nick Marment have said? I know!”
“Ok laddee, I think we’ve had enough of this. Cut along”.
The effect was instantaneous. Wayne turned into a cowering, whimpering puppy, capable only of muttering epithets to Phil’s back, as the TSP party made its way to the restaurant. But he was still able to cause trouble and sobbed a tissue of lies to his obese bully of a father, Wayne senior.
Wayne senior waddled up to Chantelle, spoiling for a confrontation. He spat out some incoherent insults to skiers in general and Phil in particular, before lurching back to the cave he’d left minutes before.
Momentarily stunned by this unprovoked assault, Chantelle went into flashback.
It was a year earlier, at Tignes. Wayne was careering out of control towards her TSP minis as he tried to jump the lift queue. She succeeded in shielding the minis but then was hit by the lunatic cur. She fought for her balance but then fell, agonisingly slowly, towards a yawning crevasse, facing death as Chris did 12 months later. She too was saved, as her extra strong Team Slalom Plus hoodie (available at all good outfitters or through the TSP web site) caught on an overhanging ledge, and gave Rorie the opportunity to pull her to safety. Yet even as she struggled to come to terms with her near miss, Wayne Senior had made his appearance and rasped the same choice insults, as his fawning son crept away.
So, TSP had twice suffered at the hands of the Mongrels. Don’t count on a similar result in 2008.
For Friday, the weather had turned. Snow and high winds closed the glacier and a swift change of plan was called for. The TSP Superstars.
Three teams, all with combinations of the youngest racers and their creaking parents, strove for footballing supremacy. Claire Holdsworth shocked the packed stands by striking a sweet volley that settled the first game. Hard as Brodie, Creagle and the other young racers tried, their attacks were often blunted by the no nonsense tactics of their elders.
The second round of matches saw the kids plus Rorie and Phil, against the parents. Suddenly we were in the presence of genius, one Lazlo Poth. Time and again, he rose like a salmon to head home or beat defenders with a clinical volleyed finish. He was unstoppable and must have notched 7 or 10 by the time that Chantelle called a halt for lunch. Later it was rumoured that he had been a member of the famous Hungarian team led by Ferancz Puskas that thrashed a fancied England XI at Wembley.
So on this occasion experience had triumphed over talented youth.
The afternoon was heralded by the run around the lake, 1.5 miles per lap. Some fantastic performances here. Briony led home the mini-minis, with Robyn and Jack not far behind. Brodie devasted the older field, tracking pacemaker Nicki Innes before letting fly with a ruthless sprint for home at the end of his second lap. Iain and Creagle followed him with equally impressive runs.
Nick, Dave, Chris, Phil Mitch, Karen and Simon also weighed in for the adults with respectable runs over one or two laps. Claire Holdsworth and Jenni walked their lap, still a good effort. Fortunately for the men Claire Mitchell claimed some medical knowledge, and was able to confirm their A1 post race health, using her own groin-pulse-taking technique. Unusual, but seemed to sharpen them up some.
And so ends the October 2007 Tignes Diary. Saturday morning will permit some slalom training for all, if the weather holds up, but yours truly will be heading home by mid morning.
What a brilliant week. Thanks are due especially to Chantelle, Rorie and Phil. But the superb young racers played a full part, and the many families turned a training camp into a memorable break.
Bring on the final round of Summer Race League on 3rd November!
Chris Gardner 26th October 2007
posted by rorie scott at 6:26 PM
