It’s cold. Bracing on the hairy knees.
I remember my old grizzly rugby coach during those freezing cold evening midweek training sessions. Shouts of
“It’s like summer”
“Stop whinging, a bit of frost bite is good for the soul”
“Your not a southerner GET THOSE #£###%%@@@ GLOVES OFF…”
If you were found wearing gloves, hats or even a training top it meant trouble.
“Take them #@@@%%#### OFF and do 20 press-ups, then sprint round the pitch twice”
Today looking over the fence at the ice I definitely won’t be running round the pitch or doing press-ups. Will just grasp my hot drink just a little tighter. Think of memories. Many good ones. Some sad ones. It’s no surprise that the sad ones make me feel just a little bit colder.
I can remember walking across a field just after I had lost my partner. Wandering aimlessly across a snow covered field having just dropped our son off at school. Looking back and only seeing one set of tracks.
Yep grasp that hot cup just a little bit tighter.