Loving the penguin

In the floral clock display in Princes Street Gardens.
Classic case of the 'extra man syndrome' at football - when I arrived on the pitch I was the eleventh player and so my team had an extra player. Usual story that the five worked so much harder than the six, and we failed to pass the ball around enough to make our numeric advantage count. In fact, worse than that, we kept giving them the ball. And when we scored they responded immediately and launched an attack before we had got everyone back behind the ball, whereas when they scored we had a moment or two of sullen silent allocation of blame before getting going again. Still, in the last ten minutes we finally managed to get things sorted, clawed back a four goal deficit and then scored the winner just before the next lot of players shouted, 'that's time'.