HILLY’S AWAY DAYS
IT is with some difficulty that I type these words in the fug of a hangover following England’s dramatic semi-final victory over Denmark.
It wasn’t the game itself that did for me, but the ill-advised decision to sit in my garden until dawn talking unadulterated drivel with a pair of idiots, the Wembley Arch flickering through the trees, silently goading us on.
Accordingly, I would like to apologise if there is any dip in the usual standard of column this week. As they say though: form is temporary, class is permanent. I was pleasantly reminded of this by bein...
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