With MrB away there was no backup to get CarbBoy's basketball lunch together and generally deal with everything I didn't want to deal with as I tried to get ready for a meeting.
But, with an appropriately (ie very) early start, he was delivered to the pick up point for his tournament, and I was delivered to my pick up point to wait for my colleague. The meeting was very useful - ways of trying to negotiate more money for schools like ours - but exhausting as I tried to listen to the speaker, the questions my colleague was asking me and the interesting sounding gossip from two attendees behind me.
We made a quick getaway before we could be lured into lunch, and headed back to base. Quick trip home to avoid having to change in the car (and to use the facilities, as I recall from last time that the toilets where I was going weren't ones I'd like to use again), and then off to the tournament.
CarbBoy's team were in the middle of a team-talk when I arrived, so I went to look at the score sheets... and they'd won all their matches. One more pool match, and if they won it they'd be through to the final. So of course they won it about a hundred to two. In the pause before the final, we watched the equivalent girls' team in their final (they lost, but without some of their key players) and I had the somewhat intimidating news that the other finalists in CarbBoy's match were pretty handy. Like as in not a geographical team like all the others, but a hand-picked crack squad from the whole region. Gulp.
But as you can see from above, all was well. After all the shouting, the screaming and the cheering (spectators); came the hugging and the tears (players and coach). You can see a bit of the coach's grin in this shot - he works so hard for the team that it's great to see them play out of their socks and win. And particularly gratifying that every player played well (apart from the 'faute antisportive' from one of our players...)
Home on a tide of euphoria for a garden beer (CarbBoy asked for champagne, but I didn't think we could justify a whole bottle between us - ie a thimbleful for him and a gallon for me - so he had a Coke), pizza dinner and a chat with Mr B.
And then, obviously, the West Wing. Mr B asked us not to get too far ahead of him. Oops.