Ossett 1

Ossett Brewery Trip

An organisers prospective… My story, not all is pleasant but the truth must come out.

The executive twenty five seater drew graciously into the train station car park bang on time as planned. Someone knew what they were doing; it had obviously been planned with military precision. The weird ones from that end of the valley struggled aboard finding the steps hard to navigate, a common problem when sporting webbed feet or a club foot. Next stop the mighty Royd. Again a text book pick-up, probably sixty seconds early if anything. The third and final collection was outside one of the valley’s more prestigious drinking establishments. A group of young bucks stepped aboard looking suave and debonair. The game was now set.

As the executive tour bus made good headway, via Sowerby Bridge and then back up and out into Halifax, passengers looked nervous and some even dared to speak out about the route that was being taken. It was all in the plan, if only they knew, I couldn’t let on the reasons why, they wouldn’t have been able to handle the truth.

Once we were on the motorway I could relax a little, the open highway, time for a little R n R.

As we approached the brewery I gave the driver a pre-arranged code word to miss the correct right hand turning and do a loop round the village just to check we weren’t being tailed. A technique I perfected whist doing private security work in Baghdad and many other trouble hotspots around the world.

You can never be too careful and old habits die hard. What’s an extra five minutes in the grand scheme of things especially with a cargo of civilians who couldn’t fight their way out of a wet paper bag?

As we alighted from the vehicle John Don asked if he could have a private word. In the shadows of the building he produced a letter supposedly from Helen explaining that the previous night John had been feeling unwell with a poorly tummy and would it be ok if he only had soft drinks that evening.

I suspected something like this would happen as when I first told him about the proposed trip he seemed very unsure, way out of his comfort zone, even as far to say scared of what lay on the horizon. I reassured him as best I could by slapping him round the face, telling him to get a grip and not to show such weakness in the face of quality beer. Back in Hereford with the regiment we’d have taken him out onto the Brecon Beacons on a one way trip.

I thought to myself how has Round Table come to this? King Arthur would be turning in his grave. I’m sure he’d propose JD should be booted out into Friends of the Park where he can spend his time sitting cross legged in his tie dyed sarong and sandals, play his nose flute and sip as much herbal tea as he likes.

Apologies I digress...

We were warmly welcomed into the bar at the Osset Brewery. Immediately, Dawn, the evenings organiser locked onto me. Any female can instantly spot the alpha male within a group and came rushing over, accidentally standing on Rory as she was taller than the average man. Rory lay there motionless just whimpering like a child. JD rushed over, picked him up, cradled him on his knee and comforted him. What a pair, everyone looked on and shook their heads in disgust at such behaviour. They’d have been better off visiting a Babysham bottling plant.

Grist? The group was split into two, boys and men. The boys went round first whilst the men stayed in the bar and got fired into the strongest beer available. JD and Rory were allowed to stay in the bar to hopefully show them what being a real man was all about. Dawn served me up my fifth pint and I skulled it before she had time to say “Hebden Bridge Round Table”. She was impressed, I could tell. JD, Rory and the rest of the group looked on in awe realising they were all well out of their depth.

Head The boys came back into the bar. We were up next, a quick trip round the brewery, (which was nice) and then straight back to the bar for more liquid refreshment.

*ist? As we stepped back into the bar we were met by a scene of what I can only describe as chaos. Everyone was rolling around the place drunk as lords. Keith was clearly trying his “best” at the bar with Dawn, claiming he had healing hands and did she have any chesty aches or pains that needed his “special” touch. A sorry and desperate sight to see.

Pete Braben and Paul Laker were running around with their trouser pockets turned inside out and fly’s down pretending to be elephants. A pair of small field mice would have been a more accurate description. What is it with doctors and their behaviour out of hours?

With the hardened drinkers back in the room the buffet was officially open. We soon polished off the bangers and proceeded to drink the bar dry.

Heading home. The clock hit 22.30 hours, it was time to saddle up and hit the road. Only a small selection were able to make it back onto the coach un-aided. The majority of which being made up of guests and younger members of Table.

The rest were transported between makeshift stretchers and a wheel barrow we were able to kindly borrow from the brewery.

The journey back was quiet and uneventful except the occasional cry of “mummy and nursey” from the Mytholmroyd contingent.

All in all a successful trip out.

Footnote: No ghost writer was used and none of the names have been changed.

For JD's version of events, click here...
Hebden Bridge Round Table is a group of young men who meet for friendship, fun and to help others in the local community.
Hebden Bridge Round Table draws members from all along the Calder Valley: from Hebden Bridge, Mytholmroyd, Luddenden and Luddenden Foot.
Neighbouring Tables are Halifax, Elland and Huddersfied. We welcome membership enquiries from men aged between 18 and 45.
Round Table's sister organisation, Ladies' Circle welcomes membership enquiries from women aged between 18 and 45.
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