Thats a look in the top pic that would be hard to pull off on anyone under 70. Dunno why but he puts me in mind of the smell of a freshly cut outfield and the sound of leather on willow. In my minds eye I've just sprinted the first one and called for two. At the end of the over we're steady at 137-4, another 82 needed with an hours play left til 6 30 and then 10 overs. Ah, Whetstone Cricket Club. Such happy times...

Last edited by 4F Hepcat (2015-10-26 01:30:44)

Yes, but the itch remains does it not, to sock it 'em JB?

To pull off something mundane or dangerous with ultimate style?

To enlighten the plebs with your exquisite taste?

That's what I liked about early/mid period Horsley, he could walk into the roughest spit and sawdust bar and hold his own with the foreman navvies, steel erectors and whores of misfortune and still make it out alright with dignity maintained. I have a soft spot for him, as I first read a wonderful article on his on the joys of paying for sex in South America where everyone and everybody was paying for sex and lots of it with no moral hang-ups or shame. He was advanced for an Englishman on this taboo.