My adventure with Peter Whittingham

(This story is genuine, but may be slightly dramatised)

It was a cold Tuesday morning. I had stupidly been surprised by my cars frozen windows and was consequently running late. My journey carried on without particular excitement, until one particular roundabout where a car in the wrong lane attracted by attention unusually. It was an expensive looking brand new Saab, and once I had done enough to get up alongside him, I discovered it was driven by who appeared to be Peter Whittingham. Because of this, I allowed him the courtesy of cutting me up to go the same way I was going, and we continued normally. He drove at a moderate pace that meant by little Yaris could happily keep up. At one point, my route to work shrinks from a two lane A road to a single country lane, and in the final few hundred yards of A road, I spotted a slow moving tractor quite a while ahead of us. This filled my heart with dread, as my car would not be capable to make the distance up between myself and it in time for a safe overtake, and I convinced myself I was now doomed to be late. That is when Peter Whittingham's Saab gave a signal like I had seen the man himself do many times before in the pitch, and he pulled out into the fast lane. Like many players before, I followed his signal and pulled out behind him. His powerful Saab shot off, and be it the slipstream of the fact my bluebird covered Yaris was self aware and willing to follow Whitts, I managed to match his acceleration. I hurtled up the fast lane behind him like Craig Noone speeding down the wings behind his leader, and at the perfect time Whitt's Saab dropped in front of the tractor, allowing me to continue forward and also make the overtake with time to spare. The only way the moment could of been any better was if Whitt's Saab crossed a large inflatable football towards me via the wiper blades that my car then headed into a giant blow up goal, inexplicably in the middle of the road. Wit that, however, Peter Whittingham was gone. He took the early turn off, and we carried on apart.

Later, I made two revelations, that ruined it a little.
- Peter Whittingham would not be driving through the welsh lanes this morning, he'd be we'll into match preparation wherever the team are staying

- why the hell would Peter Whittingham drive a Saab?

I haven't a clue how this happened, my phone must of decided to refresh the post creation in my pocket. Awkward.

I see him driving through Barry every so often. He always looks so cool