I was a late recruit to this event, following last-minute arm-twisting from two Sixties Hairies: my old mates Sandy McNeill and Iain Macfarlane . The first shock to the system was the entry to the event, via the Beer Bar, where various grey Hounds – and some pretty youthful Houndesses – tried to roll back the years. A curious feature of the dingy boozer was the presence of a motley brigade from the Indian subcontinent, who suddenly jumped about waving flags. Seems there was a cricket World Cup or some such event?
On to the dinner, where tables were segregated by age, as far as I could ascertain. Thus I found myself the leg-end of the Sixties Legends table, along with Gerry and his Pacemaker (only kidding…). In fact, I was flanked by Sandy and wee Calum Laing, whose 3 mile time (14mins+) is still a GUAC record, I think. Also with us was big Dave Logue, an amazingly youthful Ulsterman, and a rare bird indeed, having ties to both the Edinburgh and Glasgow H&H.
Then came the after-dinner speeches. Calum (who hadn’t mastered his mike technique) warned us against too much road running. Dave Logue radiated good cheer. Michelle Jeffrey (wow!) just radiated, good beer by her own account. Des took a bow, and that was that.
My only regret: while the H&H gained a female contingent, what became of those profane post-race boozing songs? Why no choruses of “The Wild West Show”, or (worse) “Old King Cole”? Maybe better save these for the 100th anniversary spree!

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