The end of a dream in our sporting future imperfect

THE grey-haired man looked down into the tar barrel. The fire was dying and the warmth ebbing away, so he drew his hooded top a little closer and rummaged in his bag.

He was about to throw in the last of the wadded newspaper to feed the flames when he noted December 6, 2020, across the top of the page.

Ten years, he thought; 10 years since the budget which had started it all, almost to the day.