
Our ground stood at the crest of a hill,
I traipsed up there, through rain, snow and chill,
As diehard as they come,
Though my fingers were numb,
And alas, we got beat fourteen-nil.

Our ground stood at the crest of a hill,
I traipsed up there, through rain, snow and chill,
As diehard as they come,
Though my fingers were numb,
And alas, we got beat fourteen-nil.
Traipsed…love this word!!!
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Yep, it’s great. A real onomatopoeia .
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100%!
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A defeat can’t take away the pleasure of playing
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or the frostbite!
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Yup, that too.
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