No More Agony on The Cross

I have detected in recent posts unmistakeable traces of pessimism from certain regular contributors (you know who I’m looking at, ex-captains of the Firsts).  Maybe it’s the weather.

Now, I may have been known in the past to exhibit a certain amount of, shall we say, realism when it comes to our combined potential as athletes.  However the time has come to reiterate that the quintessential character of The Cross is both exquisite pain and ultimate victory – to be both crap and brilliant in the same moment.

As if to prove this seminal point, I intend to mark a serial improvement in the weather by making my comeback for the club this weekend in the Thirds, where I hope my command of eight functional digits will not embarrass my team-mates.  (When my great-grandfather died he only had five fingers, but then he worked in a sawmill, which I would reckon was a piece of cake compared to standing up to Jeremy Preece).

So, to banish the Blues and lift our soggy morale, as well as to put some overdue money behind the bar, this Saturday will be a full-on Arbo night regardless of what the weather may bring.  Not only will we be celebrating the hitherto unrealised health and fertility benefits of “Clan” brand tobacco, but I will be selling copies of the attached photograph to remind you that success isn’t everything.  I hope to see all present and former captains in attendance, with their happy hats on.  Got it?