By the time we made it to Bar Kick-the result was beyond doubt.

The heady cocktail of wine, fine food and stories of unbelievable good fortune had brought us to that rarefied place-freshly minted camaraderie.

With worries about group dynamics behind us, we could begin to focus on the task at hand:

Fussball.

Fussball is modern man’s most noble pursuit-skill/luck/glory/overhead kicks-the human condition condensed into 22 tiny men and four metres of plastic and/or wood.

After a brief tussle with adverse weather conditions/misplaced mojitos-teams were formed, battles joined-reputations lost and won.

The flick of a wrist and the wicked bounce of a deflection separating the valiant from the vanquished, the superb from the superfluous.

As for me…small victories/giant inflatible bottom.

I choose the way of the S.U.M.O.

(big love to team stag-we’ll be back!!)

D’Angelo-One Mo’ Gin