I’ve disclaimed so often, I’m totally bored with it. But you know the score so it doesn’t matter.
So read on and enjoy! More feedback would be welcome; I didn’t receive very much for Snapshot 18 and I’m getting withdrawal symptoms. Please send your comments to firstname.lastname@example.org and I’ll reply as soon as I can.
‘A SPORTING CHANCE’ PART NINE
The rugby squad assembled in the main pavilion changing room for the first training session of the new term.
“Right lads,” Jim announced, “There’s been a change to the fixture list. On the first Saturday in March, instead of playing away at Whitestone Hall, we’ll be going to a sevens tournament. Now we’ve never played sevens before. Although it’s still rugby, it’s a very different game. A team consists of three forwards, that’s a hooker and two props, and four backs; a scrum half and three others. But it’s played on a full-size pitch, so everybody has to do a lot of . . . ?”
He looked around. There were several hands raised.
“Well, Evan?” he asked.
“Running, sir,” Evan responded.
“Exactly,” Jim said. “So the props won’t be our usual props; sorry Grant and Haydon, but you won’t be needed on this occasion. Of course, all that running is very tiring, so the games are very short; seven minutes each way. We’ll have matches against three other schools in a sort of mini-league, with the top two teams in each mini-league going into the semi-finals. We don’t have to play the same team in every match, so we’ll be taking a squad of ten. As far as team selection’s concerned, all I can say at this stage is that Lee at hooker and Alex at scrum half are pretty certain of their places; once we start doing some sevens training, which we will in a few weeks time, the rest will be up to you. And there could be places for one or two boys who aren’t in the regular fifteen a side team.”
He paused; the boys were giving him their full attention.
“One final thing,” he said. “The tournament’s at Fraylsham Park School in Suffolk. It will be a long day, so we’ve been invited to stop over. Okay, let’s get to work!”
As they headed onto the field, there was a very positive buzz among the boys. They had certainly taken to the idea; it seemed that spending a night at another school was a very exciting prospect for them.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
There was a knock on the office door. Jim opened it to find Gavin standing there, just as arranged. He locked the changing room, and ushered the boy into the office. There were never too many preliminaries on these occasions. Gavin came to get fucked; it was as simple as that. Over the previous term he’d turned into a promiscuous little slut. Despite warnings to the contrary, he made up for the fact that he no longer had an older friend by regularly frequenting the science lab toilets, making himself available to any of the boys in Upper Fourth who wanted a quick fuck.
Jim sat down, reaching out to open the boy’s shorts. They slid off his skinny hips, falling down around his ankles. As usual Gavin was wearing gym shorts. Jim pulled up the left leg, exposing the boy’s erect penis. He leaned forward, sucking it eagerly. He slipped a hand between Gavin’s legs, his index finger quickly locating the lad’s anus. He pushed inside, quickly becoming aware that the boy was already quite well lubricated; his shorts were slightly damp too. It must have happened in the dorm, he concluded; not only was Gavin having sex with several older boys, he was being fucked by one of his contemporaries. He released Gavin’s penis and sat up.
“Well, well, well!” he commented. “It seems like someone’s been there before me.”
“Yes, sir,” Gavin admitted, giving him a cheeky smile.
“And who might that be?” Jim enquired.
“Francis, sir,” Gavin told him. “He does it quite often; he does Ian sometime too. He says that when I can cum, I can do it to him.”
Jim smiled. Though of only average height and not in the least bit athletic, Francis Copeland was prodigiously developed for a boy just a few months past his twelfth birthday, with a large, uncut penis and a more than respectable crop of pubic hair. The previous year he’d been the younger friend of Tom Goddard, one of the forwards in the record-breaking rugby team, so obviously had plenty of experience.
“I bet you liked having his cock up your bum, didn’t you?” Jim queried.
“Yes sir,” Gavin conceded. “It’s not as good as yours though, sir; you’re the best!”
“Come on then!” Jim ordered, standing up and dropping the pillow onto his desk.
Gavin quickly got into position. Jim moved in behind. There would be no further lubrication; there was no need. He eased Gavin’s shorts down a little, manoeuvring his penis up the leg, settling it on the boy’s anus. With a single thrust he rammed it right in.
“Ooooh, sir!!” Gavin groaned, shocked by the suddenness of the penetration.
“You’re a naughty boy, Gavin!” Jim growled. “Can’t get enough of it, can you?”
“Oh no sir!” Gavin whimpered.
The boy stood there, bent over the desk, his chest resting on the pillow, the games master’s penis fucking him remorselessly. Two minutes passed, the intensity building, his hard spike rubbing as always against his hard nylon shorts. He could hardly breathe, the tingling feeling reaching unprecedented levels. He shuddered violently. A moment later his penis jerked into action, little jets of fluid spurting into his shorts. He collapsed limply over the desk, gasping for breath, Jim’s warm, creamy semen flooding into his rectum. It had been the best fuck ever.
Jim slowly withdrew. Gavin farted noisily, a large stain appearing in his shorts.
“I’ve done it sir,” Gavin gasped. “I’ve cum!”
“Well, you’ll have to make sure Francis keeps his side of the bargain, won’t you?” Jim said with a chuckle.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
They began sevens training at the end of January, every Wednesday afternoon. Deciding which forwards to take was easy. The regular back row of Chris Barnett, Mark Burgess and Clifford Rowe were all good athletes and took to their new role as makeshift props with ease.
The backs were more of a problem. With Alex at scrum half, there were seven boys for the remaining five places; the six regulars plus Gavin. For sevens, Gavin was an obvious choice; he was certainly one of the quickest, and in the wide open spaces he had no problem with staying onside. Darren, who was also the goal-kicker, and right wing Evan Williamson were obvious picks too. There were two places left.
As far as Jim knew, Alan Protheroe was, to use Tristan’s expression, a non-combatant. That ruled him out; it was fortunate that he was not an obvious selection. Full back Paul Whitehead tired far too easily. That left Daniel Palmer and Kingsley Brown. Jim had no worries about Daniel; he was Chris’s younger friend and as tough as old boots. He did have misgivings about taking Kingsley. Kingsley was Mark’s younger friend, so he wasn’t a complete innocent, but he was still only eleven, very cute and a really sweet kid. He’d be a prime target for the Fraylsham Park boys; it was inevitable. On the other hand, he was very brave, a wonderful scamperer and his enthusiasm was infectious. It would be difficult to leave him out.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Jim stepped into the deputy head’s office.
“You get on pretty well with Gavin McIntyre, don’t you?” John Halford asked.
“Yeah; I’ve never had a problem with him,” Jim said casually.
“I’m afraid he’s got himself in serious trouble,” John said.
Jim wondered what sort of trouble. Had he finally been caught in flagrente delecto in the science lab toilets? That seemed unlikely; wild as he was, Gavin had at least enough sense to restrict his visits to times when John Halford was safely off the premises. Chris Barnett, who was in charge of ‘unofficial activities’, had warned him not to be there, but as several of his friends took advantage of Gavin’s generosity, in practice he turned a blind eye.
“He caused an explosion in the science lab,” John explained.
“Hmmm! That is serious,” Jim commented.
“Fortunately, there were no injuries,” John continued, “so it could have been much worse. Paul Chandler’s very upset about it; blames himself for letting it happen. I told him not to worry about it. He was helping some other boys at the time. It can be pretty tough with the bottom groups; some of the boys need that sort of help or they never get anything done. Meanwhile Gavin’s mixed two chemicals in a flask and put it on the Bunsen burner ‘just to see what would happen’.”
“So where do things stand now?” Jim asked.
“Well, as you might guess, there have been several calls for him to be sent down,” John said with an air of resignation. “I keep hearing the words ‘menace’ and ‘unteachable’. But I’m not going to do that. Gavin’s not naughty on purpose; he’s not trying to make trouble. If he was I’d have got rid of him ages ago. He just does things without thinking. In my view if we can’t manage a lad like him, it’s a pretty poor show. He was in tears afterwards; apologised to me, apologised to Mr. Chandler; I still had to punish him though. I’ve excluded him from science classes until half term and I gave him a thrashing. I really didn’t want to, but I didn’t have much choice; the other boys wouldn’t have understood if I hadn’t. He’s a tough little bugger; never even flinched.”
“That sounds like Gavin,” Jim commented.
“I’d like you to take him under your wing,” John said. “Spend some time with him, talk to him, try to get him to understand that he needs to think first and act second.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Jim responded, “but it could be a bit awkward.”
“I realise you have another attachment at the moment,” John said quietly. “In normal circumstances, I wouldn’t even suggest that you should take on a second one, but these aren’t normal circumstances. Darren’s a good kid. Explain it to him; he’ll understand.”
“As long as you’re happy for me to do that,” Jim said.
“I think it’s the best way,” John said. “Gavin needs a guiding hand, someone he looks up to. Anyway, how are preparations going for this sevens tournament?”
“Pretty well,” Jim said, grinning. “I’ve pretty much got the squad sorted out. Of course, we’ve never played sevens before, so we’re stepping into the unknown. I’ve no idea what the standard will be like.”
“I’m sure the lads will give a good account of themselves,” John said, smiling.
Jim made no comment. He certainly hoped the boys would give a good account of themselves, off the field as well as on it.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Jim was not looking forward to briefing the boys about the nocturnal activities that would follow the sevens tournament. It wasn’t something he could announce in front of the whole team; he’d have to speak to them all individually. Even then, it was hard to know how much he should tell them. After their next training session, he asked Chris to stay behind.
“I just want a quick word with you about the sevens tournament,” he said quietly. “And let me emphasise that what I’m going to tell you is not to be repeated; I don’t even want you discussing it with the other boys in the team. D’you understand?”
“Yes sir,” Chris acknowledged.
“As you know, we’re going to be stopping over,” Jim said. “However, we won’t have a dorm to ourselves. From what I understand from Mr. Kirby, our team will share a couple of dorms with boys from their team. During the night, things do go on, a sort of extension of the rivalry, you know? Of course, it’s up to us to give as good as we get. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable with that. I didn’t think it was fair for you to find out when you got there.”
“So you mean they do stuff with us and we can do stuff with them?” Chris asked.
“Pretty much,” Jim said.
Chris grimaced. “Well, it’s okay, I guess, but the thing is I’ve never actually . . . , you know.”
“No, I realise that,” Jim said. “You’re the only one that hasn’t at one stage or another. But you needn’t worry; team captains aren’t expected to; it’s the perks of the job. As Grant won’t be with us, I’m proposing to make you captain. Fair enough?”
“Yes sir,” Chris responded. “But what about Mark and Cliff?”
“Both Mark and Clifford had older friends a year or two back,” Jim said calmly. “Anyway, they’re big lads; they can look after themselves!”
“Okay sir,” Chris said. “Will you be speaking to all the boys?”
“Yes,” I’ll see everyone individually.” Jim confirmed. “And remember, no discussing it, okay?”
“Yes sir,” Chris said.
Jim sent him on his way. It had gone better than he’d thought.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Jim ushered Darren into his bedroom. Once they were both naked, they snuggled up on the bed.
“I need to talk to you,” Jim said quietly, rubbing his nose against Darren’s, “about a couple of things, actually.”
“Mr. Halford’s asked me to spend some time with Gavin,” Jim said. “I guess you know how much trouble he’s been in.”
“Gavin’s mad!” Darren responded. “He just doesn’t think; he could have killed somebody. But he’s all right, really.”
That’s what I think too,” Jim said. “So I’ve told Mr. Halford I would, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be spending any less time with you. I would have been working with him quite a bit during the summer in any case; he’s good at athletics, and I’d more or less decided that he was going to be my boy next year, but I don’t want you thinking that you’re getting pushed out. That is not going to happen.”
“That’s okay, sir,” Darren said beaming. “I understand. Gavin needs someone like you to stop him doing something really stupid.”
“You’re a good boy,” Jim whispered. “And thanks; I appreciate it.”
“So what’s the other thing, sir?” Darren asked.
“The sevens tournament,” Jim told him.
He briefly outlined the situation much as he had with Chris, Darren not appearing at all bothered by what was being suggested.
“But you’re in a different position from everyone else,” Jim continued. “I’ll be sleeping in the guest bedroom close to the dormitories that the teams will use. Their rugby master, Mr. Kirby, has an apartment in the same area. He has a boy just like I do. It seems that it’s the tradition on these occasions for Mr. Kirby to sleep with the visiting master’s boy, while the visiting master sleeps with his.”
Darren’s face broke out into a broad grin.
“Wow, sir!” he responded, stifling a giggle. “That’s wild! As long as you don’t mind me sleeping with him sir.”
“No, of course not,” Jim said, nuzzling the boy’s ear. “I just wanted to make sure you were happy with it. I also understand that Mr. Kirby usually indulges himself with some of the other visiting boys. If he does, he’ll probably take you to the dorm before taking another boy back to his apartment, so you may end up having sex with some of their lads too.”
“It’s going to be great!” Darren enthused. “We never get to do stuff like that at Hartswood, do we sir?”
“No,” Jim agreed. “Hartswood’s a wonderful school; I wouldn’t change it in any way, but for one night it will be good to go somewhere that’s allows a little more freedom than our place does.”
“So are you going to be doing that too, sir?” Darren enquired. “You know, going with some more of their boys?”
“Probably,” Jim said. “After all, it’s up to us to give as good as we get.”
“Wow! I hadn’t thought of it like that sir,” Darren admitted. “I know Chris will, and Mark; they’ll love it!”
“Now it’s very important that you don’t mention this to anybody,” Jim said firmly. “I don’t even want you discussing it with the other boys in the team. Understood!”
“Yes sir,” Darren confirmed. “I won’t breathe a word. “I don’t think Mr. Halford would approve, would he, sir?”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” Jim said gently.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Over the following week, Jim continued speaking to the boys in the sevens’ squad. There were a few questions, but after everything was explained, they were all for it. Kingsley was positively enthusiastic. Jim wondered if the boy realised that he’d be fucked by several of the Fraylsham Park boys and probably by their games master as well, but felt he couldn’t spell it out to him.
He spoke to Alex Pienaar in his office after Upper Fourth gym class. Unlike any of the others, the boy became very obviously aroused, his erection making a prominent bulge in his shorts; he was positively salivating at the prospect. Jim was somewhat taken aback; he’d always thought Alex to be rather quiet.
“You seem to be getting quite excited,” Jim commented.
“Yes sir,” Alex admitted.
“D’you want some help with that?” Jim asked.
“Yes please sir,” Alex responded.
Jim sat down and opened Alex’s grey school shorts, pushing them down over his hips. They fell to the floor. He ran his hand over the front of the boy’s briefs, gently fondling the lad’s throbbing erection. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband, and pulled them down. Alex’s penis was a real beauty, uncut, around four and half inches long and a little under an inch in diameter, the foreskin completely covering the head, a pair of well-formed balls hanging loosely beneath. Above it, close inspection revealed a few tiny blond hairs beginning to make an appearance. He was perfection.
Jim leaned forwards, closing his lips around the boy’s hard spike, pushing slowly down until it touched the back of his throat. He sucked it slowly, working his tongue all over it, his hand sliding between Alex’s legs.
“Are you going to fuck me sir?” Alex asked.
Jim pulled away and looked up.
“Is that what you want?” he asked.
“Yes sir,” Alex said.
“That is a surprise,” Jim said. “After your unfortunate experience with Mr. Atkinson I wouldn’t have thought you’d want that.”
“But Mr. Atkinson wasn’t very nice, sir,” Alex explained. “You’re different.”
“I thought you’d moved on to being Ian’s older friend now Toby’s left,” Jim queried.
“I have sir,” Alex confirmed, but Peter Cranham and I sleep together most nights. He loves bumming me. It’s good, sir, but he’s not much bigger than I am. I’d love to have a real big one up me.”
“I guess you won’t have had that since the time with Mr. Atkinson,” Jim commented.
“I did once sir,” Alex told him. “Me and Toby had a foursome with Robert and Darren. Toby and Robert swapped over, so I got Robert’s big one up my bum. It was great!”
“I see,” Jim said, becoming more aroused by the second.
He was beginning to realise that there was far more to the quiet South African boy than he’d ever dreamed of. He reached into his bag and retrieved the KY. The squeezed some onto his fingers. He resumed sucking Alex’s penis, slipping his hand between the boy’s legs again and pushing his index finger deep into Alex’s anus. There was not a murmur of protest. He inserted his middle finger as well, pushing in as far as he could. He touched Alex’s prostate, the boy’s penis twitching delightfully in his mouth. He twisted his fingers around, carefully loosening the lad’s sphincter. After a couple of minutes he allowed both fingers to slide out. He stood up.
“D’you want to find out what I’ve got for you?” he asked.
Alex quickly undid Jim’s shorts and extracted his penis.
“That’s a beauty, sir!” he breathed, running his fingers all over it.
He knelt on the floor and took it into his mouth. He sucked right down on it, burying his nose in Jim’s pubic hair. After a minute or so he pulled away, smiling and licking his lips.
“Good boy,” Jim cooed. “That was wonderful.”
He placed the pillow on his desk. Alex stood up and moved into position without a word if instruction. Jim smeared KY over his penis, surveying his latest and most unexpected prize. He could hardly believe his good fortune. The boy was a total delight, his legs and bottom in perfect proportion. His anus was clearly visible; it was evident that he was being penetrated, though equally evident that the person responsible was not especially large, Peter Cranham, indeed, Richard Burman’s boy. So Richard was fucking Peter and Alex was fucking Ian, but when Alex and Peter they got together they swapped roles. It seemed a nicely symmetrical arrangement.
He moved in close, guiding his penis onto the lad’s sphincter. He thrust hard and penetrated him.
“Ooooh, sir!!” Alex gasped, his anus struggling to accommodate the unusually large intrusion.
“Is that what you want?” Jim asked gently.
“Oh yes sir!” Alex confirmed.
Jim waited until the lad began to relax. Very slowly he edged forwards, sinking his penis deeper and deeper into Alex’s bottom. He thrust over the boy’s prostate.
“Ohhhhh!” Alex moaned, a bolt of electricity shooting through his prong.
Moments later, the boy was fully impaled, the man’s pubic hair pressed tight against his bottom. Jim inhaled sharply; Alex was gloriously tight, just as Darren had been on his return after the summer holiday.
Without even thinking about it, Jim began to fuck, gradually building it up until he was giving the boy everything he had. Alex moaned and whimpered, the heady mixture of pain and pleasure the most intense he’d ever experienced. The games master’s fingers wrapped themselves around his throbbing penis, sending him into sensory overload. He bucked and squirmed, his anus clamping tight around the man’s invading weapon. A moment later his penis jerked violently, his semen spurting through the man’s fingers and onto the front of the desk. Within seconds the games master climaxed too, warm, creamy semen filling his rectum. It had been even better than he’d expected; nobody had ever fucked him like that!
Very carefully Jim withdrew, the boy’s anus bearing all the marks of what had just occurred.
“Did you enjoy that?” he asked quietly.
“Yes sir!” Alex responded, still struggling for breath. “It was fantastic!”
“It was for me too,” Jim said warmly. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to see you very often, but if you’d like to come here on Monday morning before breakfast, that would be superb.”
“Yes sir,” Alex agreed.
“You’ll need to be here by ten past seven,” Jim told him, “so you’ll have to get up the moment the bell goes.”
“I will sir,” Alex said, grinning.
A few minutes later, Alex was dressed and on his way. Jim slumped into his chair, marvelling at his latest piece of good fortune. He smiled to himself; having both Darren and Gavin needing his attention was wonderful; adding Alex to the list was the icing on the cake.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The half term break came and went; two weeks later the day of the tournament arrived. After an early breakfast Jim and the squad made their way out onto the car park to find the coach already waiting for them. Jim stood with the driver as the boys quickly stowed their bags and hurried on board, making their way right to the back.
“Hi,” the driver said, extending a hand as the last boy disappeared inside. “I’m Tony Milner; I teach English at a school about five miles from Fraylsham Park. I guess Tristan will have told you.”
“Yes,” Jim confirmed.
“You’ve not been there before, have you?” Tony asked.
“No,” Jim said. “Tristan and I were at school together. One of their regular teams let them down so he invited us.”
“Your boys know what to expect?” Tony enquired.
“Pretty much,” Jim said, unwilling to give too much away.
“Things can get pretty wild, from what I understand,” Tony commented.
“So do you, you know . . . indulge?” Jim asked, wishing to turn the conversation around.
“In a quiet way,” Tony said blandly. “Nothing like what goes on there.”
They made their way onto the coach and a minute later they were out of the gate and on their way. Jim found it a pleasant change not to be driving, especially over such a distance, along roads with which he was not familiar.
They arrived at twenty past ten. As they made their way along the drive Jim surveyed the sight which presented iteslf. The buildings large and imposing and the grounds very extensive. By comparison, Hartswood Priory looked quite ordinary. As the coach came to a halt, Tristan hurried across to greet them.
“Jim!” he said enthusiastically as his old friend got off the coach. “Great to see you! Good journey?”
“Not bad at all, thanks,” Jim said.
“Excellent!” Tristan said. “I knew Tony would look after you.”
He turned to a boy of around thirteen, an athletically built lad with collar-length fair hair, who was standing to his left and slightly behind him.
“This is Mr. Cooper of Hartswood Priory School down in Sussex,” he said.
The boy stepped forward, extending a hand in Jim’s direction.
“Pelham Lewis-Marshall,” the boy said in an impossibly upper-class accent, a condescending smile on his face. “I’m rugby captain. Pleased to meet you. I’ll show you to the changing rooms. We’re looking forward to having you and your team stay with us tonight.”
Jim accepted the handshake, but there was something about the boy’s manner to which he took an instant dislike. As the boys got changed he studied the draw. Fraylsham Park were in Pool One, along with defending champions Aldenham College Junior School. Hartswood Priory were in Pool Two; their first match, against Lakeston Hall, was due to begin at 11.45.
The three matches that preceded theirs were uneventful. Aldenham looked impressive, crushing Fairlington by twenty nine points to seven; the other teams seemed to be much of a muchness. It was time to go. Jim began with what he considered to be his strongest line up; Chris, Lee and Mark up front with a back line of Alex, Darren, Evan and Gavin. They made a couple of mistakes and fluffed one golden opportunity. Nonetheless they scored three tries and won by nineteen points to seven; one down, two to go.
Their second match was the crucial one, both they and their opponents Eastwood Grange having won their opening games. Jim toyed with the idea of sending out the same line-up again, but decided to stick to his original plan, with Clifford replacing Mark up front and Kingsley coming in for Gavin at left wing. It was a competitive, exciting game; close all the way through, but Hartswood were always doing just enough, always looking the more likely to score. In the end they prevailed by thirteen points to nine, and with Lakeston having also won their second match, their place in the semi-finals was assured.
For their final pool match Mark came back in for Chris, with Daniel replacing Evan on the right wing. Though not their strongest line-up, they were too good for Wellstead, beating them by twenty points to six. Half an hour later, Lakeston beat Eastwood to go through as runners-up. The semi-final line-up was now complete; Aldenham would play Lakeston in the first match, Hartswood would play Fraylsham Park in the second.
There was a break of almost an hour, a light lunch being served before the semi-finals began. Jim took the opportunity to wander round, finding out more about the place. It was almost a different world. The boys at Hartswood came, in the main, from the professional classes, the sons of lawyers, doctors, senior civil servants and so on. Others, like Mark, had parents who were successful in commerce or industry. By contrast, most of the boys at Fraylsham Park were from well-established families, just like Tristan was, titled nobility, landed gentry and their ilk. Snobbery and privilege were everywhere; the place positively reeked of it. During his own school days, boys like Tristan had been a small, though influential minority; at Fraylsham Park their presence and influence pervaded everything.
In the first semi-final, Aldenham disposed of Lakeston with consummate ease, winning by twenty five points to eight; they were looking unstoppable. At a little after quarter past three, the Hartswood boys trotted onto the pitch to take on their hosts. They had reverted to their strongest team, the same line-up that had played in the opening match. It was, Jim reflected, the first time that he and Tristan had faced each other in any sort of contest.
Fraylsham Park certainly had the edge on them for size and mounted some good attacks, but they defended poorly and their teamwork was sadly lacking, Lewis-Marshall captaining the side by ordering his team-mates around rather than exhorting and encouraging them. They didn’t have much support either. If Hartswood had hosted an event like this, almost every boy in the school would have been out there shouting them on; at Fraylsham Park they didn’t seem to care. The Hartswood team was a total contrast, their commitment, endeavour and excellent teamwork bringing them through by twenty three points to fourteen. Afterwards, they received rather perfunctory congratulations from Tristan and the Fraylsham Park boys; it was almost as if they didn’t care that they’d lost.
At four o’clock, Aldenham and Hartswood took to the field for the final, to be played over ten minutes each way. Hartswood were clearly the underdogs and so it proved. They played as well as they could and kept going right to the final whistle, but the final scoreline of thirty two points to seventeen hardly did justice to Aldenham’s dominance. Jim was not unduly disappointed. It was their first sevens tournament. They’d made the final and lost to a much better team. There was little anyone could have done about that.
After the match, Chris led the team in congratulating their opponents properly, a discipline that Jim drilled into all his teams. Jim, meanwhile, sought out their rugby master, keen to explore the possibility of arranging regular annual fixtures. The presentations at an end, the tournament was over. It was time for the evening activities to begin.