Slipping and sliding across the ice encrusted grass in the early glow of the dawn left me and Willo with a
couple of soggy shoes and wet and cold socks.
Watching a weirdo jogging around the oval in shorts and T-shirt dragging a mutt along (which appeared to be busting for a stop)
confirmed my belief that such exercise is only for the young.
A hot cup of coffee and a change of footwear had us ready for the day.
As usual the faithful turned up and set about having some fun. With the amount of clanging noises, hoots and hollers,
whistles and banter that floated about the poor old targets sure did take hammering.