Saturday 3 December 2016

Coloured strips and dancing pom-pom girls? It's just not cricket

David Robbins

Published 13/06/2009 | 00:00

My uncle Eugene was old school. For him, the passage of time meant an inevitable deterioration in conditions. The past was always better than the present, and the future was a wasteland too tragic to contemplate.

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Take rashers. For Uncle Eugene, there hadn't been a good rasher in the country since before the Emergency.

Or teabags. A needless fandango, according to Eugene, made from the sweepings of second-rate tea plantations.

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