That night a lone trumpeter climbed to the top of the castle walls and, facing outwards, sounded the last post. The mood around town was sombre. This was a night to focus the mind. People sat in pubs in their accustomed seats but the usual Saturday night banter was absent.
The notes from the trumpet brought everywhere to a dead silence. Walkers stopped walking, passing cars pulled in and, inside, juke boxes were turned off. As the music faded away everywhere remained still as folk contemplated what lay ahead…
The Blue Square Bet Premier league.
[…] Lincoln this season. It’s been a few years wince they were demoted from the football league (see a night of deep reflection) and time the club returned to the fourth […]