where art collides philosoperontap

February 21, 2010

Mascot

Filed under: prose — Tags: , — Trefor Davies @ 9:28 pm

At 1 o’clock the ground was already bustling with people as the mascot reported for duty. The parking attendant orchestrated. A room at the back of the club shop provided the kit for the day.

Yellow stewards bibs abounded. Black clad doormen, wired for sound, occasionally touched an ear and accepted his presence as he entered the inner sanctum, a place known only to players, managers and mascots, the elite.

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