The Passion and The Glory
Once or twice in each of our lives a sequence of events may occur that defy any rational explanation - the inexplicable rise to prominence and widespread adulation for whichever reality tv nonentity happens to be pissing me off right now for instance...
Anyhoo, just such a strange and unnerving event occured on Monday evening at the Hamlet.
How else can one describe the surreality of trudging off the pitch with heads low and sphincters dilated after a 6-2 rogering only to find that, due to some Macchiavelian statecraft by our glorious in-house lobbyist no doubt, combined with the innate decency of dear, dear Rog, we had contrived to jump from third to second and... WON A TROPHY!!!!!!!!
And here it is (isn't he purrrty...)

