This morning, under the expertly barked orders of club legend and marquee maestro Stanno, a brave band of the youngest, fittest, strongest and most handsome Spartan club members—15 to 20 strong, mostly in their prime (if that prime was about 15 years ago)—assembled to dismantle the marquee that played host to our legendary End of Season Dinner. Attempts to round up Andy Powell to help in disassembling the structure proved fruitless.

Armed with hammers, allen keys, grips, snips stubbornness, and varying degrees of lower back flexibility, the crew got to work. What they lacked in agility, they made up for in good humour, team spirit, and the ability to point at a pole while saying, “You sure that goes there, Stanno?”.

Of course, such valiant effort could not go unrewarded. Our gallant volunteers were treated to that most sacred of Spartan breakfasts: a free beer and a bacon butty. It’s unclear whether the tools or the grill got fired up first, but priorities were clearly in order.

Massive thanks to everyone who turned up, lifted, laughed, and didn’t end up in A&E. The marquee is down, the season is over, and the Spartans spirit is very much alive.