Shouting ourselves hoarse

In my twenties, I went to watch the varsity rugby match at Twickenham every year.

It was oh-so-totally-awesome to be there watching Dot.T play. She started on the bench and went on soon after half time. I am, we are, so delighted for her as she wanted it so much and worked hard, with other things going on, to try and keep up with all the necessary training.

The family, the godparents, the school friends and the uni friends turned up to shout and cheer. It was a draw, 10-10, as neither team seemed able to convert a try, but as Cambridge were the current trophy holders, they got to keep it.

A tea, the mens game, a gathering for fish and chips, and we all felt hoarse from the yelling. What an experience.

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