Guardian

A wave of sadness washed over me, the old rugby club rooms looked in need of a coat of paint I doubted they even played rugby here any more. Given I cant stand the bloody game it felt odd.

 My father coached the senior team here 44 years ago, it was a sense of great pride for an 11 year old that his dad was the senior coach.

 I have one vivid memory of my dad playing his last game of rugby one day when the team was short a man.
 I stood on the side line glowing I was in charge of dads note book and the half time water bottles, I cant remember if they won or lost, it wasn't important I was trusted with dads note book, I held it in both hands guarding the teams holy grail, I was trusted, I was the guardian.