I made a dashingly bold decision this morning to wear a pair of shorts. Not my usual style, but I had my reasons. I reckoned that by taking myself out of my comfort zone, I might be able to find some sort of comfort zone. The objective was to reduce the extreme levels of sweating being induced by this Panama heat (not Panama hat, I haven't actually seen very many of them). Anyway, not only has my technique been unsuccessful but it has also led to, predictable, further complications.
As you might imagine, my legs are rather a different colour to most of those either playing in, or watching this tournament. Rather than being olive brown, mine are more the tone of porridge. Well no, after two hours of Latin America Amateur Championship spectating, they are now more the tone of porridge that has had some jam stirred into it. I thought one application of my trusty factor 15 coconut sun-oil spray would be sufficient. Turns out it wasn’t. You live and learn. At least, after 43 years, you might think you would, but then Scottish belligerence is a potent force.
