"...Crystal Palace."
Tok. Ron put the pencil down on the shelf.
Nothing came down the drive. The canteen window was open 80 yards away with my whole squad sat behind it, and for 4 seconds there was a heater ticking and a man in Switzerland clearing his throat.
"They have not had it yet," I said.
"Television." Ron kept his eyes on the sheet. "It has to go up to a satellite and come down again. The wireless only has to come over the hill."
Then it got there.
Skrrt.
Chairs first, a lot of them going over at once, and under the chairs a roar that came out of that window and down the drive and in through the gap at the bottom of Ron's door.
[UEFA CHAMPIONS LEAGUE. ROUND OF 16.]
[ATLÉTICO DE MADRID v CRYSTAL PALACE.]
There was tea on the back of my hand and down my wrist. I had not felt it go. Ron passed me the cloth he keeps for the window without looking round.
