Eh?

I suppose it was only a matter of time before one of our colonial cousins got lucky and managed to steal the Brooky Cup from it's rightful home in Europe.

To be honest I expected it to happen sooner or later as you guys are starting to look as if you know what you are doing on a football pitch now (e.g. you no longer try to grab the ball and run it over the goal mouth... too often).

I had visions of Scott lifting the Cup, majestically, over his head, biceps rippling; or Sic filling the cup with lager and chugging it down to the grunts of his teammates; or Maria, delicately taking the cup from Dan and sauntering off with it to some glitzy celebration party.

Any of these would have been expected and within my understanding as a fellow human being.

But why, oh why, did you have to let Boyd win it?!?!?

I may never sleep soundly again!

;)