British people enjoy every bank holiday weekend as if they were gifts sent down from on high, mini-vacations that send everyone into a whirlwind of barbecuing and chilled beverages.
It’s different for sports journalists.
A gaggle of people over the past decade or so have rung me for some spurious work reason on a Monday morning – a PR pitch, some sort of marketing guff – and made the mistake of asking if I enjoyed my weekend. Usually I will then regale them with in-depth stories from my time in the office, possibly a Sunday afternoon spent trying to ignore the record-setting heat outside as Burnley and Huddersfield play out a tactically intriguing 0-0 draw.
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