Sheared

It's been another lovely day by the coast. The sun has been shining and a few clouds have provided mobile punctuation in an otherwise clear blue sky.

The Gorse Fox went across to Worthing for the Tuesday football. We had another great turnout, with some 35 old codgers stripped and ready to play. Ten were peeled away to play in the 5-a-side cages and the rest of split into four teams. The Gorse Fox was in a team that peaked early. We played a superb first game, winning 2-1. The second game wasn't so good as we only managed a 2-2 draw. This game annoyed the Gorse Fox. A chap he had never seen before was attacking for the other team and the Gorse Fox was marking him as he took a wild kick at the ball and skyed it over the bar. He then claimed the ball had come off the Gorse Fox's chest - which it hadn't, in order to claim a corner kick. The Gorse fox pointed out that he had not touched it and was accused of "not being honest". Anyone who knows the Gorse Fox would know that a) that would wind him up, b) it was a lie, and c) the Gorse Fox always puts his hands up to confess to any infringement - even when it has been spotted by anyone else. A bit narked, the Gorse fox marked said individual with greater vigour and attention for the rest of the game and don't believe he actually touched the ball again.

The Gorse Fox should complete the story of our decaying performance. In the last of the three games, we were outnumbered by a very competent, mobile, attacking team. We lost that game 3-1 and there was very little we could do about it.

Back home, having showered and lunched, the Gorse Fox entered the week's shopping list (prepared during the morning by the Silver Vixen) and then wandered around to the village and "Golden Blades". He only had to wait for a few minutes and then the chap with the shears was ready and he set about making the Gorse Fox look beautiful.