A random Dulwich Hamlet conversation with a random Brockwell Lido swimmer first thing on Friday morning.
Five years ago and this simply wouldn't have happened.
The Rabble down at the Dulwich numbered 150 max. You knew everyone.
Plus what took place at Champion Hill usually remained at Champion Hill.
You didn't go around boasting that you were a pink 'n' blue boy.
I have no idea who the lovely lido Hamlet fan was. I enjoyed the chat, all the same.
Elsewhere at the lido and make up was being applied in the gents.
This was my first work outing for the man make up that isn't really make up.
Applying it in full public gaze of the Icicles was more of a challenge than diving into the water itself.
I think that they were actually quite jealous of my balls, so to speak.
And then a brief cycle through Brixton and a day spent Somewhere in SW9.
Singing assemblies, the story of Moses and volleyball. It was all there.
And then Friday evening brought out the shout of:
To The Oval!
t20 has started bloody early this year. So much so that I was booze free for the Glamorgan match. It just seemed wrong hitting the sauce whilst shivering at the top of the Pavilion.
The 'rrey were bobbins at bowling. 240 was always going to be an over-optimistic run chase.
Away to the Essex slags tomorrow.