Last Tuesday of the chilled season. Roll north to Dub Dub’s and then up a steep route to the K-School. Tub is busy and we arrive just as the last families are leaving. Zulu is already ten minutes in. The man in boxer briefs gets roped into re-upping the jets. “Not bad cotton clad!”  says Senor Altercator. Sufficiently soaked and in search of a serious slake, we veer velocipedially to Vendetta. Kong rolls up, fresh from a pre-show cocktail, and the Silent Assassin is already six sips in. I see a drink line. Best to go with singles neat and bargain tall-boys to keep us out of the queue. On the table neanderthals lock up shop with slow play, relegating us to a long wait on the patio. An extended greeting from the well-endowed comes EBMB’s way. She’s fresh from the tat shop and gone back to Velcro, but their are only two reasons why everything she says is interesting. The challenge is finally opened and a quick block walk puts a fire under it all. It’s like shoving rocks through cold honey, but the Farmers win the play-in swiftly. Zulu and I give a proper challenge, but the Farmers play the comeback kids, nipping us at the last. However, the Good King and I manage to turn one back against them in the next match. Clock strikes pumpkin and I take my early leave. Light rain for the ride home, but the mild air signals spring’s approach. Goodnight winter. We hardly knew thee.