Thanks Ceri....I am glad the image of a Welsh sporting athlete meeting his maker made you smile....in Merthyr the taxi drivers have to be that fit to keep up with the fare dodgers....I doubt Oregon has the same problem...those covered wagons on the mid west trail to the land of Steinbeck move much slower...Plenty more stories where that came from...Phil

Gwych....and so poignant:- "Coming to rest in the pasture of a foot and mouth flock, disturbing the displaced Mountain Hares, the Cab finally exploded as the Coffin capitulated and the explosive grease cocktail in the veins of Cabbie caught fire .. turning the former Burger King into a Flame Grilled Whoppa." I wept with laughter

CHARIOTS OF FIREAs he jumped off the Valley Line Train he could feel his dodgy achilles heel injury playing up again.Colin Jackson was not amused , hed conquered many hurdles in his professional life but the prospect of attending a conference to reinstate the greyhound track at Penydarren Park in Merthyr Tydfil had to have been the most hare-brained scheme ever that the National Athletics branch of the Welch Assembly had come up with yet.This had to be the lowest point in his career he thought . the prospect of Valley people rabbitting on wasnt exactly what he had in mind when hed entered politics by the back door.His mentor, Seb Coe had struck Gold at Westminster but the best his running for office had got him was Bronze in Cardiff Bay.Still it was better than working , he mused , as he collected up his stained Common-Wealth Games 1994 Bag (made in the Common-wealth country of Afghanistan) and trudged away across the unlit pot-holed car park to the rear of the Train Station.As he stood at the Council -owned yard he could just make out the fading words 1996- Temporary Car Park acquired for forthcoming Shopping redevelopment complexAdded to it were the words Pay & Display (and in graffiti - we might be able to build one-).The distant sounds of speeding cars practising their hand-brake turns took on a new meaning as a single headlamp flicked on and the sound of an approaching engine suddenly startled the former athlete.The former- boy racer was staring down the headlight of another boy racer as it approached at lightening speed.Like a Jack Rabbit he froze as the Close Encounter with the speeding light seemed imminent.He could make out the shape of a Canary Wharf Yellow second-hand London Taxi rapidly approaching.Instinctively, he leapt some six feet in the air just before impact with the vehicle.The cab roof passed some three inches below the air-borne Jackson , luckily missing him narrowly .However, the CB antennae stung him hard even through his protective Lycra Designer suit.Taxi ?! asked a tattooed driver licking his hand- rolled Class C Drug. Taxi ..!!! you made me jump.!! Well theres a first time for everything . ! smiled the Cabbie realising who his prey actually was.Beneath the windshield , looking past the Guinness Label and Furry Dice, Jackson could just make out the beaming face of a Bryl-cream greased Ernest Borgnine look-a-like.Jackson could see strange blue lines etched on the drivers face ..like a form of tribal marking. Are you looking at me..are you looking at me ! said the Cabbie in a Travis Bickell/ Robert De Niro voice.Jackson paused and then replied in a offensive English sounding voice- Why yes , old chap..are YOU are taxi driver? None too bright are we boyo? do I have a beer belly, stained vest,and tattoos..am I driving a yellow cab marked Tax1 with MTCBC written in felt pen on the side ? . Yes.. replied Jackson. Well of course Im a Merthyr Taxi-Driver then!!!! ..Jump In !!!Checking out the appearance of the vehicle Jackson tried to open the rear door which appeared to have been spot-welded shut.Handing him a grubby oil-stained card Jackson read NUM S CABSESTD 1984 Dick Scratcher - ProprietorBefore Jackson could utter a word the pot-bellied driver had squeezed into the rear seat and released the door mechanism. Bloody Cut & Shuts .they are not what their cracked up to be .. moaned the driver Thats the last write-off , I ever buy !Jackson was oblivious to that last remark .he was concentrating on reading the words SEMTEX pressed into the fabric of the fake leather rear seats. Where exactly did you get this cab ? queried Jackson. Some bloody Paddy from London..wanted a quick sale -500.00 .got in quick likebefore it went up....not a local product are you ?.Where to Skip ? continued the cabbie . Tregenna Hotel Penydarren Park please replied Jackson .With one hand on his one-to one mobile phone and the other on his joint, the taxi screeched away .As he cut up the other-taxi cabs vying for pole-position at the Labour Club roundabout he continued his conversation with his missus on the other line. Rubber Duck this is Arthur Scargill calling come in over. Any news on the old bill Do you mind concentrating on the road, instead of talking to your wife, while your driving me to my destination? growled the ex-Olympiad. Mr Pent-Athlete you DISCUS what you want to discus and Ill discuss mine besides the wifes just had a coil fitted and can pick up the Police frequency so Im checking the safest route .Turning up Twynyrodyn Road , Mr Jackson was then treated to Merthyr Tydfils own 200 metres Hurdles -the series of speed bumps, tank traps and quasi-modo humps that unnecessarily pervade the Hill.Slowing down to the required speed limit he gave THE BIRD to a learner driver who had actually signalled before manoeuvring .As he retracted his tattooed arm his arm he said:- Off the record , Im Moonlighting.Im on Invalidity as you just saw Im suffering from vibrating white finger .from my days in Deep Navigation Pit. looking for the first time in his rear view mirror at the now-white Jackson. Oh.I see now . N.U. M- S- CABS 1984 and the blue marks ..I thought they were varicose veins My legs ARE cramped in this front section I think it was a 1995 Mini-cab. and in case most of the punters on my flights try to sue me for Deep Vein Thrombosis.. Ive got suspension tights in the glove-box. in case you want to protect those injury-prone athletic legs chuckled Cabbie snidely.Jackson didnt have time to respond as his face suddenly exploded into the Asda carrier doubling as the rear air-bag , as the Taxi skidded to a halt on TOP of the raised Zebra Crossingthe nodding dog on the dashboard immediately rang his lawyer at Churchill Insurance to claim whiplash injury (Oh YESSSS!!!).Regaining his senses, Jackson suddenly realised that the Driver had left the vehicle and had sprinted some 100 metres before flooring a spotty ginger youth in a New York Baseball Cap.After emptying the concussed youths pockets and placing the baseball cap on his own head Cabbie sprinted back to the vehicle with his gut bouncing out of step with the rest of his body.Jackson was not only astounded by the sheer impulsive violence , but he was also amazed by the agility and speed of a 50 year -old COACH POTATO over the 100 metres.Whats more, judging from the clock on the in-cab meter, the over-weight Cabbie had broken Jacksons own Common-wealth record over the same distance. He did a Lynford on me last Saturday Night . said Cabbie. A Lynford ? asked Jackson . Yeah, you know picked him up in town with his mates he was sick in the back.. where youre sitting ..stopped at the BronxNew Gurnos.then they refused to pay and they scarpered in different directions . Caught one of them.hes still in Prince Charles Hospital Dont you mean the ginger youth did a Colin Jackson ? asked the Ex-Sprinter expecting to be recognised finally. No-a LYNFORD. replied the Cabbie quick as a flash I couldnt catch HIM.. besides he was full of drugs AND packing if you know what I mean !!!!!!!! I fail to follow? replied Jackson suddenly realising the reason why the seat was still wet. He had a gun and some Speed you dig?.. Oh a DRUG RUNNER..!!!!!.. I get it now ! exclaimed Colin. Im impressed how did you do run that fast Its nothing .. said Cabbie shrugging his shoulders .we all do it .just years of chasing artful fare dodgers in Merthyr!!!!! said CabbieThe taxi spun wildly onto the Goatmill Road without braking or signalling at the junction. Who the Hell taught you to drive? shouted Jackson wiping the week old vomit from his lycra suit. Maureens Driving School in Newport ....thought you might know her ...shes a minor celebrity like you Daley laughed the Driver pulling the support tights from the glove-compartment and placing them over his head. Dont fret Daley .its not a heist. its for the speed cameras..we all know where they are and cos Ive got two different licence plates front and back the old bill has reasonable doubt..chuckled the Taxi-Man wildly trying to regain control of the steering wheel.After taking the roundabout Dukes of Hazzard-Style , Cabbie sped along the Goatmill Road whizzing past the State of the Art empty Manufacturing units.After passing the place where Rabbits once gambolled -Mountain Hare - the red diesel vapour trail disappeared into the night, the Taxi flew past the contaminated waste from the former Corroded-a factory / Nuclear Power Plant and the O P Chocolate factory -both in a different stages of melt-down.Turning down the BBC Radio Wales service - the lifeline of all Welsh Taxi drivers (both legal and illegal) Cabbie whispered into his handset Rubber Duck .this is Scargill hows the fuzz looking tonight!. Very good ....but be careful ... cos theres some pigs near your house..dont come home yet replied a male voice . Whos this . demanded Cabbie..Is that you Roger from Next door what are you doing there ? asked Cabbie suspiciously. Id say the LONG JUMP if you asked me !!!!! laughed Jackson finally getting one back on the Taxi Driver. No this is Tony from number 10 .Roger left about 20 minutes agoand Im just manning the fort..till you get home !!!! replied the voice.Better not use Penydarren High Street then thought Cabbie to avoid the Peelers. Are there any eating establishments that you frequent in this vicinity? asked Jackson suddenly regaining his appetite . The fact that he had gone two miles without a speed bump was purely coincidental. Besides I d like to see what dietary intake you have Speak to me in Wenglish , Mr Celebrity.Im a Taxi driver remember .like Fred Housego.. not bloody Mastermind!!!! snarled the Cabbie still raging as his wifes latest indiscretion. Im Hungrydo you understand that..? asked Jackson. Why didnt you say so first time..its only 9.00pm ....well have the all-day breakfast at my local transport caf in Dowlais..do you like fry-up Daley teased the Taxi-man through nicotine -stained teeth.******************************************************After watching the ex-miner demolish an enormous plate of grease-covered Burgers, Sausage, Eggs and Fried Bread topped off with two full-tar cigarettes smoked simultaneously, Jackson picked nervously at his bowl of salad. That foods for Rabbits!!! wheezed Cabbie laughing at Jacksons measly portion even Lynford has a bigger Lunch-pack than you.eh.Daley !!!!!!!!!!! Can we go now ? asked Jackson suddenly remembering his conference at Penydarren Park tomorrow.As the oddly matched twosome left the Lady Charlotte Eatery , they paused at the sight of a uniformed policewoman looking at the Guinness Label on the front of the Taxi-Cab.Are you the owner of this vehicle Mr Thompson ? asked the WPC Juliet Bravo . Certainly not..and my names not Thompson.its Jackson replied the sprinter indignantly . Its mine officer ..and may I say what a pleasure it is that they relaxed the height restriction on the Force and allowed REAL WOMEN to take on duties normally reserved for butch , self -important lesbians..besides Ive always admired that Martina Navratilova at Tennis- crawled Cabbie recognising that the WPC was from Dyke Street in Twynyrodyn and that he was in Shit Street. Do you like Back-handers too Officer ? Can I see your MOT Sir ? smiled the Police Woman visibly melting at the Taxi-Man charm and manly physique. Only if you show me yours ! flirted the 50- something producing his documents.Looking down at the Cabbies combined Taxi and Pilots licence the WPC smiled and said All right Mr Bin Laden ..you may have lost your sun tan and beard but you havent lost your way with the Ladies .. but before I let you go .do you know that the rear section of your exhaust is dragging causing sparks in the road ? Be gentle officer .Ive just come from Twynyrodyn Road..replied Cabbie. Oh that explains it then.why your cab was a real CHARIOT OF FIREso Im afraid that Im going to have to give you..(looking at the external menu). an on the spot fine of 20.00 in this regard More on the spot fines muttered cabbie handing over the crumpled note grudgingly.youd think we had a Hackney problem in Merthyr Tydfil! Could be the greasy food .!!! quipped Jackson smiling at Cabbies misfortune .*****************************************************Motoring along Pontmorlais and Brecon Road the fire hazard arrived outside the Tregenna, Hotel .Jackson like the big Yellow Taxi was exhausted. I thought you were supposed to STOP at red lights.. said Jackson his usual fake smile frozen to his face by the affect of the journey..I saw my grandmother back there .and shes been dead 30 years!!!!!!!! He said digging his fingernails out the fake leather seats. So Mr Thompson .I heard you always stop at RED LIGHTS particularly when their in DISTRICTS but this is the end of the line as far as I go that will be 120.00 .What?120.00.120.00..you must be joking .did you leave that meter running when you were eating your FIVE course breakfast ?..besides how many J D Wetherspoon pubs do you have in Merthyr then? .asked Jackson. Only One.!!! came the reply Then why did we pass it four times on the way here then ? queried Jackson. Its the one way system devised by the CouncilAre you calling me a cheat , then Mr Daley .YOU the con-man with his name splashed all over the Daley papers youre the love- cheat .and furthermore while were on the subject of cheating you always pretended you were ill whenever you had any real opposition ..I reckon even me a middle-aged taxi driver could beat you..!!!! Okay ..thats it .Ive never been so insulted in my life .., Ive had enough of your comments ..if you want your 120.00 fare try and catch me taunted Jackson as he raced towards the recently revived running track around the Penydarren Park pitch.After locking up his Taxi to stop it being stolen, Cabbie cantered after the Athlete ensuring that the runner could not double-back to his Hotel.Jackson had already reached the track but had not noticed the arrival of his rival by a secret short-cut known only to taxi drivers. My wife ..and my cab against your 120.00..- double or nothing. first across the line over 100 metres. raged Cabbie.The commotion disturbed the Football Club Physio and the Club Chairmans wife practising ball-control in the South Stand.Oh I do love a wager she remarked.The Club Physio in return for a vow of silence from both competitors agreed to act as referee . So let me get this straight, its my 120.00 against the ownership of all you possess---both of your old bangers!!!! ..100 metres man to man asked Jackson.Seething with pent up anger Cabbie snarled Yes Englishman , winner take all ----in a CHARIOTS OF FIRE race.*******************************************It was closing time at KOJAKS the new Greek Theme Restaurant at Pontmorlais.As the hairy-legged waitress with the black moustache closed the door, she turned up the volume of the Juke Box to accommodate the remaining Shirley Valentines and Zorbas in an effort to hang on to her Intoxicating Ouzo Licence.************************************************As they stood on the starting line ..Jackson was sure he could hear strains of VanGelis in the distance..Cabbie was focused ..lifting his trousers up to cover his sagging saddle.he waited for the starting pistol.As the Physio emptied both barrels , for the second time that evening , the shock of the sound took its toll on Cabbies heart..In slow motion the odd couple commenced their race.For the first 30 metres both men were evenly matchedthe dodgy hamstrings of Jackson tweeked and pulled ..whilst the bouncing of the Cab-mans gut obscured his vision every third stride.Hearts strained..pulses raced.lungs filled and emptied..Just five metres short of the line and Jackson was poised to win his first race ever.Unfortunately, the sound of a hamstring snapping seemed only to egg on the Big Breakfast winner as his gut crossed the line before Jacksons head ..dipping not only by technique but also in shame. YEEESSSSSS in your face JACKSON . Choked Cabbie clutching his heart .As his recovery rate was checked by the club physio Cabbie slumped to the floor.Jackson crawled over to his rival ..sponsorship money in hand.. Can I be your Agent ..heres your signing on fee.? Puffed Jackson. Its too late , Mr Thompson..Hes dying. Whispered the Physio with respect. Can I get you anything .any last requests asked Jackson with his usual post-race humility.Get me ..my fags wheezed the dying Taxi-Man..oh and one thing else ..I want to be buried as a Taxi-manplease grant me my dying wish.Jackson nodded as Cabbies eyes closed and his meter stopped running ..for the last time..********************************************************************Standing on the Troedyrhiw Mountain were a mot-ley crew of Merthyr Cabbies.As the Pastor read a passage from Taxi Weekly-Licensed to Kill the uniformed throng removed their baseball caps as a mark of respect.The Club physio turned to Jackson and whispered reverently. He was an ex-miner you know , thats why he wanted to be buried over -looking his beloved Pit Do they know what killed him ? asked Jackson in hushed BBC commentary team tone. HIGH COAL -ESTOROL. Apparently.. came the reply.BBC Radio Wales out of respect for their fallen listener decided to hold a minutes silence at exactly 12 Noon which confused a lot of elderly valley folk who assumed their lifeline radio was on the blink for the first ...... but did wonders for new radio sales.The silence was broken by the Radio Station playing the Cabbies last request.As the coffin was pushed through the boot of the former cut -and-shut Taxi-Cab the Taxi Drivers began to sing along fleetly .A chorus of Born to be Wild by Steppenwolf lifted into the crisp Winter air.As the Cab was set alight and pushed down the Tip to rest with all the other abandoned torched vehicles.Like many a Viking funeral before it, the CHARIOT OF FIRE bounced and tumbled down the mountainside.Although the strains of Get your motor running.head out on the highway. Gave the sombre occasion a surreal feel .Coming to rest in the pasture of a foot and mouth flock, disturbing the displaced Mountain Hares, the Cab finally exploded as the Coffin capitulated and the explosive grease cocktail in the veins of Cabbie caught fire .. turning the former Burger King into a Flame Grilled Whoppa.Jackson just smiled his phoney smile one last time and limped back to his BBC Wales limousine.THE END
updated by @philip-evans: 11/11/15 10:39:10PM