How a childhood Christmas turned from frenzied excitement to utter despairWhen I was a kid,between the ages of approximately four and 12, I was often taken to the local hockey club on a Saturday. The clubhouse looked like an oversized wooden shoebox and served orange squash when the bar at the back of the main room was open. The entranceway smelled of muddy boots and there was a river at the terminate of the pitches that we kids could run to when we got bored. It was great.
Every December, and the hockey club put on a Christmas party – the clubroom was filled with plastic pop-up tables coated in patterned Christmas covers,bowls of crisps and ham and jam sandwiches and see-through plastic jugs of the strongest, most enjoyable orange and blackcurrant squash.
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Source: guardian.co.uk