The Random Rose Bowl: Cheerleaders!

Today as part of the 70th anniversary of the D-Day landings, the Red Arrows (aerobatic display team) did a series of loop-de-loops over our school and made a heart with arrow through it and flowers in the sky and stuff. We all watched from the playground.
As one of the many perks of helping to paint a condemned cricket pavilion (see my charity volunteering), we have been given free tickets to see a T20 cricket match! Not only did we get free T-shirts, more photos on Google Earth and a pint of beer, now a cricket match and international venue "Ageas (Rose) Bowl"!
From what little we know about county T20 games, the stands are often quite empty so it seemed an opportunity to get my face on TV for the second time this year. Therefore, once I'd showered and the oven was on, there was mass panic while 2 chaps with high IQs (but who are somewhat contrary to ordinary) tried to record the program while making me supper.
This is when we found the chicken portions that Jof had cooked last night, still in the oven, fizzling away at Gas Mark 95.
Still, I got my Scampi with 4 veg and fruit combo while he got to do laundry and make lunches.
We got to the rendezvous dead on time and hardly had to wait several minutes at all for Jof and the lady with the tickets.
Once we'd parked on the M27 a few times we made it to the ground and we parked in a farmer's field as directed by the Yellowjackets and met Jof at the gate and found some seats in an empty section.
Hampshire batted first and every time we scored a boundary, little girls in spangly outfits did a little boogie to loud music on their podiums dotted around the ground. But the best bit was the flamethrowers: you could clearly see batteries of radio-controlled boxes-on-wheels that blew flames into the sky along to the music.
Soon enough I demanded to move and we went to an even more deserted part of the stadium and for a while there, I even watched some cricket. But the man in a lion costume who was throwing T-shirts to the crowd was miles away and the competition to dance when your image was projected on the giant screen was made more difficult by the fact that we were sitting directly under said screen.
So we moved again just as half-time was called. The dancing girlies were replaced by a buncha 18 year-old blondes who did a dance routine that was much more twerk than pom-pom and we found a spot near them. Then I wanted food and a souvenir from the shop. Jof had cold feet so we found her some socks with cricket stumps on (£7) and we got sausage and chips and a bacon buttie (£11.50) which was marred by me deciding not to like sausage which earned me a shouting as I fidgeted and complained and demanded.
But then I was allowed to wander around by myself (avoiding strangulation) which is all I ever wanted, apart from the other 37 things I wanted.
The other bonus to our second move was proximity to the remote-controlled gas blasters which troubled passing aircraft and warmed our faces. A man dressed as Queen Elizabeth danced at us, but then so did Jesus and a series of pirates.
The lion man came near us so I waited politely at the back of the crowd and didn't get a shirt. Lost balloons filled the sky as Kent edged closer to our target but we kept stopping the ball reaching the ropes and we won!
Once we'd got out of the car park the journey was quick and easy, made especially easy by me falling asleep in the car, slumping from my kiddie seat onto the back seat. Of course, once I'd been rudely awoken and came out of my confusion, I vehemently denied it. Bed 1030.