Mid-winter mercury for a Croydon internationalist is always high. Air miles could take him to Andromeda before it reaches us. He could represent Earth on credit from Alitalia. So if Wilshere smokes, it means little to the worldly wise. Roy’s been there, had a shisha pipe himself, a ‘complete nonsense’ to a smoker of cigars […]

‘Our new manager looks like a bus driver.’ No uniform image arrives. Bus drivers are so diverse though, Sid. There are differences in nature, temperament and manner from London to Riga, Kingston to Kingston, Manchester to Minsk. One even took us to Cambridge once when we were crying out for Colchester. It was a Tuesday […]

Sleeping in an allotment in North Sheen Storm petrels and cormorants overhead I think about the Balearics, that Balearic beat, the summer of love 1988 Ecstasy was riding a BMX as light faded, kicking a ball at the garages, chatting to the milkman on freezing Saturday mornings before football training. The summer of love lasted […]

Shedman, standing in the absence of a building, must now sit down.

His beer can reflects summer sun past the zenith- we watch the Robins