Sunday, September 03, 2006
Sundays are for running. Saturday afternoons have always been sacrosanct during the football season. C. goes nowhere unless it is to actually watch the football. This year the fallow weeks were filled with bowls. As in bowling green and old people. He asked if I would go and watch if he made it to a final. I saw no reason not to agree.
He is universally adored as the baby of the club. In this his first season, he made it to three finals. And he won...er...three finals.