We sat in the dim lighting for what felt like minutes after Downtown Delle's sabotage when only seconds had passed.
The air conditioning fans slowly ground to a halt, and already we could taste the putrid stench of sweat as it sifted around the locker room. Now, ours wasn't connected to the other teams', but it sure felt like it was; it was as though year's of reeking jockstraps and soiled underwear suddenly chose that moment to fall out of the proverbial woodwork.
'So, Delle's goal is to make us miserable as well as uncomfortable?'
'As if we had a chance, to begin with, guy.'
'Hey, stow it. If that bastard thinks he can rattle us before our first game, he's got another thing coming.'
'What's the plan, Butland?' I could only hope that he had something in mind.
