Bill 'Greengrass' Maynard, the Oxford Outlaws Groundsman, arrived at Good Old Boy Park just after 5 o'clock in the morning on the last day of June. It was a fine morning and the dawn chorus had filled his heart with joy. Here he was, the guardian of the greensward that had played host to an historic match the day before. A match that would live forever in the minds of the players, the fans and everyone connected to the club and he had prepared the pristine pitch that had seen the proudest moment in the club's history played out.   

 

He let himself in through the squeaky gate that led into the tunnel in the corner of the Denver Pyle End of the ground. He was keen to get a look at the pitch and see what needed to be done to repair the turf. He had enjoyed a couple of pints of Good Old Boy after the game but he hadn't stayed out late as it wasn't his custom to do so and he didn't like to break his routines. As he emerged from the tunnel his eye was not drawn to the pitch in front of him but to the unmistakable portly figure of the Chairman Barry 'Barrels' Belcher making his way unsteadily along the roof of the Gene Eale-Stolwut Stand on the other side of the ground. 

 

"Barrels. What the bloody hell are you playing at?" bellowed Bill.

 

'Barrels' stopped with a wobble and looked down and around the stadium trying to locate the source of the shouting then lifted a Trophy above his head swaying as he did so. Bill had no idea how 'Barrels' had got up on the roof but he didn't like the look of it one little bit. The Chairman and chief benefactor of the club had clearly not stopped drinking since the day before and there was every danger that he would stumble and fall. Bill walked out onto the pitch so that he could be seen and shouted again. 

 

"Come on now Barry. Don't be a bloody fool." Everyone knew that 'Barrels' had been diagnosed with bowel cancer several months before and the thought had come into his head that Barry was about to do something stupid.

 

Barry began to sing the club anthem as he continued his unsteady way to the corner across from Bill but with a change to the words as Bill could easily make out in the quiet of the early morning.

 

"I'm a Good Old Boy, about to do myself harm.

34 Nil was the score. I've been waiting for this dawn since the day I was born."

 

With that he broke into a trot and launched himself from the roof holding the trophy out in front of him.

 

Bill shouted "Barrels. No" as the Chairman fell through the air and he ran towards him. He would swear that he could see Barry smiling as he descended and even though it couldn't be true it looked as if at the last moment of his 'Swan Dive' he turned his body and pulled the trophy in close to protect the ball before impact as if he were setting up an attacking ruck in front of the home supporters in the Denver Pyle End. As Bill reached him, his body was broken, not moving and had made a hollow in the playing surface that was going to be a devil of a job to fix.

 

Bill walked away shocked but not surprised at what he had just witnessed. He'd seen a lot in his Sixty odd years and it made sense to him that 'Barrels' had wanted to take control of his own end. Why not go out on a high from 'on high'? He made his way to the sheds where he could use the landline to call the emergency services.

 

"What's this going to mean for the club?" he said out loud, shaking his head as he made his way back into the tunnel.