Ken Gargett

i think that would be a few overturned buckets with a slap of paint and some forks stuck in the sides, with a rotten lemon rolling about between them.

This Foosball Table Costs More Than a Porsche Boxster Hermes out-plays the competition with a table made of maple, calfskin, and hand-painted figures. By Arianne Nardo on October 9, 2018 Photo: Courtesy of Hermès File it under leisurely pursuits: Foosball hasn’t quite met the same rigorous Olympic standards as most conventional sports, but it does require hand-eye coordination, grip strength, and a willingness to berate figurines for missing an open goal as if they were flesh and blood. (Those who prefer not to sweat can opt for darts or back-seat driving.) Trust Hermès to reimagine society’s most jovial Pilsner-soaked diversion with this elevated incarnation. There are chic game tables and hearty diversions, and then there is this maple and Swift calfskin ($73,600) creation. It’s an item for competitive design people who want to win at everything, including standing still. But in a civilized tournament, the dirtiest tactics are subtle, quietly diminishing the fighting spirit of others. In that case, superb design is the weapon, meant to rattle opponents into a state of supreme inadequacy. Should I have a special edition, legacy brand foosball table with saddle-stitched upholstery and leather-wrapped handles? Is that copying? What if it was monogrammed? Signature Hermès leather at play. Photo: Courtesy of Hermès “Hate the player, not the game,” taunts the preppy victor, topping off another glass of Macallan while pushing back the investment meeting via text. But design artefacts are not responsible for insufferable owners. The French house does not choose sides, opting to showcase its finesse with quality execution, enticing both the willing and curious with a cast of hand-painted jockeys (not soccer players, note) who appear freshly scrubbed and ready for the challenge. Each team races across a supple Hermès leather field, which means any rimmed evidence of an adult beverage would be grounds for instant divorce. Hermès finesses the details. Photo: Courtesy of Hermès It takes artisans 60 hours to create each player, with special attention paid to their carefully created jerseys—meant to resemble silks. A varsity rush of bleu de Prusse and jaune soleil gives the entire piece a patrician update to chance it in the big leagues. But sport is not a fan of the demure. Expect that any competitive characters invited to play will indulge in some raucous, high-end fun that comes with significant aesthetic risk and a call to the insurance agent. But as a work of design, this might be the only foosball table in history that outclasses its category. Victory is assured for the very humble among us.

not me and not online but one of my best mates. had a big fight with the current girlfriend and so, had a massive lunch to get over it all. on the way home, purchased the latest aston martin. when it was delivered the next day - which was a bit of a surprise, apparently - the lovely squillion-year-old house he had in surrey had a fine garage. sadly, the entrance to it was two inches too narrow for it to fit. in fairness, he did come to love that car. me? i think such stupidity does not need exposing. most of it resides in the cellar. at least i had the sense to borrow a 15 weight when i went to costa rica.

i mentioned the fishing trip. we had one bloke who would always "forget" his wallet. i never understood why as all things were all split (we had a friend of a friend want to come but he did not drink and insisted that we make special arrangements for his share - this was someone i'd never met, wanting to come on 'my' trip and putting down conditions. needless to say, if he ever made fraser island, it was not with us). this bloke was often very generous with other things. happy to bring really expensive wines and so on. brought foods i found out later he'd not included in the bill despite instructions to do so. but he hated paying for little things. big things, no problem. but always an excuse for smaller items, like a pie at a servo on the way up or a beer or whatever. strange. humans really are strange. after two years of this, i reminded him numerous times before the third trip he was coming on. i asked him when we collected him. yes, yes, i have it. 30 minutes later at a servo, whoops, i made a mistake and thought i had it. no problem, i said. we left early in case of any hold-ups. we've plenty of time to go back and get it. out came every excuse. won't be able to find it, he insisted. no matter, i said. we'd all help look. more excuses. in the end i gave up. he had enough black marks from other transgressions to make it all too difficult for a fourth trip.

fuzz, at my 21st, one of the girls came and told me that there was a man out the back watering down the spirits. i told her not to worry, that was the old man. not for being tight. rather, he was determined to stop anyone getting pissed (and failed badly in that). he'd recently been appointed to the liquor licensing commission as well, and actually insisted we get a permit to serve alcohol. he even roped off areas of no-go in the house. for some reason, he felt my mates might get out of control. by the time of my youngest sister's 21st, he'd given up and her friends were guzzling from the bottle and the place looked like caligula had had a bad night.

have had a series of huntsman spiders in the letterbox. they find it a great place to have their eggsac and to guard it. anyway, about a month ago, getting the mail out, i scared the poor thing and it bolted. did not come back. a new one has taken up residence. bigger than i have had there for quite a while and not scared of anything. often sits on the outside.

i do have one mate who when we were at uni would always insist on splitting the bill if he had been there all night and racked up most of it. insisted on the opposite if he had not. but the crowning glory for tightarsery - i remember being at a dinner party on the coast many years ago - the bloke concerned was an absolute shocker. always had to duck to the gents as the bill was on the way, always going to get the first round next time, welshed on wagers. they do not realise how often they get flicked from invites. i've caught up with him a few times overseas in recent years and he is completely different. first to grab the bill now. anyway, he was having a dinner party on the coast and something was not adding up. he kept ducking out to the kitchen - the girlfriend was doing the cooking so no idea why (we all thought the point of the party was to announce the engagement but he was actually breaking up with her later that night, after she'd cleaned up). i followed him once and discovered he had the bottles of good wine in the fridge. was serving us all dodgy rubbish and himself the good stuff. needless to say, i immediately exposed him. i was in fits of laughter - could not believe he'd even try it. he was extremely pissed off at me for letting the others know. a couple were so angry they immediately went home. i was going nowhere now that i had found the good stuff. i think that might be the ultimate tightarse effort.

i do an annual trip to fraser island to fish. normally 6-10 mates. they have varied over the years but mostly a good core. years back, a mate from west australia wanted to come (i remember telling him the deposit we take was twice what it really was as he was always dodgy with money and i wanted to cover as much of his trip as i could before we had to chase him). he was a strange guy as he could be extremely generous if he had money, shocking if he didn't. we've rarely had problems (there was one bloke i had to shame into paying - complete surprise as he'd always been solid but i gather he then fell off the rails, got struck off and got involved with all manner of shonks - i'm told that our trip was the last time he ever paid his mates any dosh owing). anyway, when the tallying up wa done, this mate owed a couple of hundred. not that much. everyone varies at the end, depending on earlier contributions. this bloke had every excuse. for months. finally, i rang and said it really was time. all the usual promises and apologies. but he was broke. would as soon as he could. and so on. it was not much but it was more that it was the principle. later that day, he rang and asked, as i'd been to cuba quite a few times, what was the best way to get over to the carribean as he was planning a holiday. this, after that morning he told me he could not help with the couple of hundred he owed - there were ten of us that year so it was only about $30 each we were out. i completely lost it. he was told never to contact me again until he had paid his debt. i've never heard a word since. be very surprised if he isn't in jail or was found dead in a ditch.

yep, boy genius managed to turn the camera off for the first two thirds, which was when all my pearls of wisdom were cast forth. he really does need to wear slip-ons.

no.

in all honesty, i'd have no problem at all if he put on decent wine himself. or if i believed that he was genuinely trying to and did not know better. would not have the slightest issue then, but when it is a way to pad the cellar, less impressed.

i have no issue if someone has put out cash for someone else to take the cash and pay by card - i'll do it if short of cash - but i'd be seriously pissed if someone doing it was then shorting the staff. the points are so small, hardly matter. to be honest, never even thought of them before. had a mate who would have dinner parties, we'd always bring top wines and then they'd disappear and he'd serve rubbish. one night he proudly showed me his cellar. i could spot at least half a dozen i'd brought. next time, i brought the wine decanted and returned to bottle, so it would be ideal for drinking that evening. he was clearly pissed. the wine still never appeared and it was the last time i was ever invited. last i heard, he was working for a failed politician.

what changed your mind?

mates and i do an annual offal lunch. starts with tripe but anything goes. throw in top wines. great stuff.

best description i heard was like eating custard over an open sewer. try it. brilliant.