Grown man crying

Or how about a whole room of grown men crying? After seven months of waiting, all of us were desperate to get on the green and start the outdoor bowling season. 

Some of us... well, me actually... even turned up more than an hour before the start to take in the atmosphere, renew friendships, pay membership, sign up for competitions and league teams and anything else that got the new season off with a bang.

Sadly, one and a half days of rain meant the green was soaked. With tender spring grass, our greenkeeper played safe and called the bowls off. So after speeches, a roll of the first bowl by the Mayor and some food, off I went home to endure mock dismay from wife and eldest daughter.

At least I've traded a lost afternoon's bowling for another attempt at play tomorrow afternoon. Maybe that will cure this strange twitch that's appeared in my bowling arm.