This is the quiet day. This, of all the Interlull days, is the worse. The international games are over, the players are back or making their way back to London, and because nothing outrageous, scandalous or disastrous has happened we're in the eye of the storm of nothingness. That's the thing about that storm. You can't tell if you're in its eye, its hoop, or what, because it's all the same. Technically speaking I don't suppose you can call it a storm at all, but let's not get all weirdly pedantic and stuff. If you come here looking for metaphors that make sense, then I'm sure you realise by now that's like marching an otter towards a cave whilst wearing a bicycle helmet. The most exciting...
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