And a very good evening to you all.

If you are Daily Telegraph readers, you will have seen that, apparently, 'old age' begins at 58. Well, speaking as a 58-year-old, I can assure you that ........... that .................... er ...... oh yes, I feel nothing like 58 and I still have plenty of energy in me yet. So ignore that report, if you would, especially if you happen to 58 or more. Tosh. I haven't even bought my first proper motorbike yet.

Well! That was a great afternoon's rugby! A whitewashing of one of our closest rivals, and were it not for the fact that their staff are such decent types I'd be revelling in gloatery. Well played everyone, and congratulations.

Such was the satisfaction on the part of the director of sport that he threw an impromptu champagne party (b.a.b., quite rightly) and we all had a great time. During said time, I told a small group of anyone interested about the loudest bang in Mayfield while we were there: it was heard in Australia, What happened was, as I informed my audience, that one winter's evening, before we had any security gates at the Mayfield end, a group of Hell's Angels (no, I was not one of them) rode up to the Mayfield front door and shot it. Yes, that's right, shot it. At the time, Mrs C was on the phone to an ex-gapper matron in Melbourne, who heard the shot and enquired, in best Ozzy terms, as to what the something it was. So it was a very loud bang indeed, as you will gather.

Tonight the boys have been great. Tired but fun; witty without being too familiar. As for me, well, Mr Porter's party was great............ andokjiwhfgb;ojq;ouh34;ou34touhb;h qtrb.kn bg.

(Dont' worry: only joking.)