Sports Day

It was another cracking day. The blue backwash was punctuated with clouds to break up the monotony. Some were fluffy and white, some had a dark underbelly. It was a sky that you could just sit and watch and never get bored. A light breeze heaved the clouds around, without them ever seeming to merge or race.

The Gorse Fox streamed across the Sussex countryside to Worthing, sticking to the A27 in case the roadworks were continuing near Ferring. He had left a little earlier so he could get in a few more laps of the track before the football started. As he dropped down of the A27, down Durrington Hill he pondered the fact that the school sports day hadn't yet taken over the track at Worthing, as it did this time most years.

Th Gorse Fox's prescience had been uncanny. As he pulled into the sports centre he was greeted by the sight of several hundred teenage girls in their red polo shirts and blue shorts gathered all round the track. The Gorse Fox was not going to get his laps in! He made do. He lapped the football cages six or seven times until he had at least a couple of kilometres of "warm-up" under his belt. The rest of the lads started to gather. There had been a tournament yesterday, so the the numbers were curtailed. In the end we played 8-v-8 in three separate games. The Gorse Fox was playing for the blues and we lost the first game 2-0, but after that we managed to win the next two games. The Gorse Fox did not manage to score any goals today. In fact he didn't feel as if he had played particularly well. Never mind, there's always tomorrow.

The afternoon has been spent with the book "Spitfire" again. Considering the speed at which the Gorse Fox reads, he finds this book requires a certain reverence and mist not be rushed. It's partly to do with the episodic style of writing, and partly the subject matter, but this must not be rushed.