A fresh bicycle ride into the gym early on Wednesday morning.
The fields were ashen and the skies were bruised.
Something has to give.
That something wasn’t West Ham Wanker.
I asked him in the changing room what time we were meeting later in town for the rather ‘lively’ England celebrations / commiserations.
For once Mr Wanker was short on words.
A brief gym session, and an even briefer swim.
It still felt ACE.
I had work shifts all morning back at base.
The Rock and Roll Routemaster with @RobertElms on the Second Summer of Love is well worth catching up on.
Thirty years ago, you say?
Blimey.
PMQs passed, as did more work shifts.
I put on my Buzz head and bashed out a run of pieces to cover us over the next few days.
A little more work, a little of the Kent Vs Gloucestershire t20.
And then you know what.
#ItsComingHome.
Just like me.
I’m on the 6:57 in the morning back to Sunny Stockwell.
OUCH.