Our mode of transport was not the best β our usual hippy tourbus had been taken off the road at the last minute, and the best we could get was a seater minibus from Stamford. The Professor and The Dave were named driversβ¦..
The journey was a lovely one. Sunshine, sandwiches, lager, tunes on the Ukelele, and Critch going for a roadside slash in some nettlesβ¦. When we arrived in the Beamish Valley, we nearly ran over some sheep that had wandered across the road. We crossed a rickety bridge and arrived at a fork in the road where a guy was just about to put a sign up.
We stopped to ask him directions, kinda guessing that the sign he was erecting might in fact be directional signage to the Festival. Well, can we see the sign then? Just show it us now! This would therefore be a first for The Fraudsters β our first gig powered by renewable energy! We unpacked, set up, soundchecked and did a quick rehearsal to tapping feet and nods of approval from the people already there, and by 7pm we were readyβ¦β¦ for a game of football.
Luckily some of us were still sensible enough to discount such a ridiculous idea and we opted for the game of footy on the Village Green as originally planned. The teams were selected, 3-a-side, the Backline of Burkeydrums, Davebass and Critchysound versus the frontline of Mr.
The Frontline stormed into a lead and it was looking like a bad day at the office for the Backline Brian, until the rhythm section suddenly found all the old skills they used to display when they played for The Posh, Gary.
