"Did you see the concert last night?" said John.
"Did I see it, I was there," said Dave. "Got a season ticket, haven't I?"
"You lucky bastard."
"Where did you watch it. At the pub?"
"Yeah, went down with some of the lads, Mike, Dave Two, Peato and Swizzy."
"What a performance. Yeah, we won, but it should have been more than that."
"That's the thing, innit, I can't believe Severini got sent off for that."
"We still played well, even with an empty seat on tuba."
Malcs walked in, running late, and with wet hair.
"Ten six, ten six, ten six," chanted John and Dave. "Ten six, ten six, ten six."
"Yeah, fuck off. You didn't deserve that." said Malcs.
"You got fucking battered," said Dave. "Ten six, ten six, ten six."
"Top of the league," said John.
"Yeah, for now," said Malcs. "We've got a play in hand. We've got Tadcaster on Wednesday and when we beat them that puts us one point above you with two concerts each before the end of the season. Severini's out for two games, and who have you got left? You're going to have to get a dep sitting in and that puts you at a major disadvantage. I tell you, we've got this one."
"We'll see," said Dave.
"Even if you win the league this season, we still beat you yesterday," said John.
"Ten six, ten six, ten six."
"Fuck off," said Malcs. "Cast your mind back to the start of the season when we beat you seven three at home."
"You didn't deserve that," said John.
"Cos you are shit."
"No, you are shit."
"Bollocks, we are the best."
John made himself a cup of tea, picked up the paper, and sat down for his break. He turned straight to the back pages for the brassie news. There was a story about fans at a concert in Cuenca making monkey noises at black brassers from the away band, Granada. The whole back row cornetists from Cockermouth Millers BB are in the dock for the alleged gang rape of two fourteen year old girls. A super rich oil Sheikh from Kuwait has just bought Lyme Regis Fossilers BB for an undisclosed sum. Stan Byron, the manager of the Fossilers was now putting in a number of bids for high profile brassers, including a British transfer record of £38 million for Mexican flugelhornist Erubiel Jimenez. The whole of Europe was gearing up for that summer's UEBA European Brass Band Championships, and there was much speculation as to which bandsmen would fill the 1-9-1-3, 2-2-1, 2-2-2-4 of the English national band.
He always fancied himself as a tubist when he was a kid, imagined he would turn pro for Sedbergh Millers and take them all the way to the top of the first division. He had a poster of Billy Grummell, legendary Sedbergh tubist from the 1970s, when all his friends had posters of soprano cornetists and flugelhornists. He never became a professional, and never really played except for the occassional tune-up in the park on a sunny Sunday afternoon. But he stuck with the Millers - the Sedbergh Millers Brass Band – even in 2003 when they changed their name to the Booksellers as part of Sedbergh's bid to become England's official booktown. He saw his team rise to the top of the old first division in 1991, just as his father had in '69, and his grandfather in '47 and '51.