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Curiosity got the better of me but all I got was a rake of ginger biscuit recipes! I'll leave it at that.

Bollocks. It's a greater travesty that the 69-72 isn't here slugging it out with the tramline. I'm reliably informed that Socrates had both in his collection and faced a daily dilemma as to which one to wear for "night-time activities".

I suspect our ideas of a ginger biscuit are very different 😃 I'm not sure it would be wise for me to trawl the internet and find something that will give me nightmares.

Getting a bit tight, but I'm confident that after a refreshing afternoon siesta, the old boys will be out in force to put their cross against the tramline kit.

I'm more a mint humbug man. Just heading out to strim some thistles and nettles and fully expect to see an unassailable lead by the time I'm back in to change my incontinence pads.

I'm ready. Kettle's on and the chocolate ginger snaps are out.

Old boys up with the lark to give the 75-81 a flying start. Will it all be over before the spotty teenagers finally roll out of bed?

I've got some bad news for you.

Men vs boys.

Just sorting out my ticket for the final.

Dissent in the ranks. There'll be scuffles in the tunnel at full-time 😃

No, OP says final whistle is on the morning of the 6th.

This is what you call a kit.

All over bar the shouting. 75-78 playing possession football, knocking it around at the back. Hopefully the ref will do the decent thing and blow up early.

Put your Sky Blue glasses on.

Desperate.

I see you're one of the great unwashed so I won't stoop to your level. Pulling away at the moment, so you're going to have to up your game.

Taken from the Cov Telegraph archives. Tragic thing is, the caption to this picture spells Hutch's name with an "n". Words fail me.

Priceless my friend, priceless.