In the frosty skiing regions of Europe, the bitter winds of bygone defeat swept through Paul Rye's icy cold heart as he weaved and skied through what he would claim were black level pistes. And as he weaved and skied across frozen powder, the miser Paul himself came across a spectre skiing beside him. For Paul was side by side with the Ghost of Hockey Past.

The Ghost of Hockey Past lowered his Helly Hansen hood and raised his gaze with melancholic countenance to reveal to Paul that it was none-other than Russ.

Russ brought forth haunting images of last season's dismal struggles during the first half of the season where victory was as elusive as a winter sunrise. And then, as quickly as he had arrived, Russ was gone… probably to play for the Mens’ 3s.

As Paul brooded over the shadows of lost matches, the Ghost of Hockey Present emerged, looking like Josh wielding a Grays hockey stick of hope and a shirt too tight for his biceps.

Josh presented a vision to Paul of a spirited contest between South Saxons and Lewes 6s. It was a tale of resilience and camaraderie. And also a tale of a surprising number of photos of Josh taken by Simon.

South Saxons, like a flickering candle in a darkened room, battled Lewes fiercely, going down 1-0 by the end of the first half. But fighting words from a determined Captain Matt saw James dribble down the left and reverse stick a ball into the D which bounced like a pebble skimming on across a still pond past Lewes defenders and Saxon strikers alike. A waiting Archie pounced and put the ball into the back of the goal. Next came Tristan and Will dribbling into the D and taking South Saxons to a 2-1 lead. But unsatisfied with that, Saxon’s attacked again winning a short corner. Rak stepped up and imparted words of wisdom. And then James struck a shot towards Tim who tapped the ball on its way through to the corner of the goal. A glorious tap, later unfairly contested, but rightly heard on Simon’s video footage in between his many, many close-ups of Josh for his personal collection.

The Saxons emerged triumphant with a 3-2 victory that warmed the icy recesses of Paul's skepticism. And then again, the ghost was gone and Paul continued to ski on his way towards an ethereal glow of success.

Next, the Ghost of Hockey Future beckoned Paul to a vision of unprecedented glory. Paul’s eyes focused on the ghost. Was the Ghost of Hockey Future one of the young juniors like Tristan or Lucas. Or even young Will or Levy. Was it a youth full of energy and emerging talent. No. It was PK in a pink hoodie and a baseball cap.

PK transformed the piste around Paul into a theater of triumph, showing the rest of the season with each match played a radiant chapter in a story of unyielding determination. The team, once plagued by the chains of defeat (except Gary who hasn’t lost a game in over 25 years) now soared to unparalleled heights, clinching victory after victory, and ultimately seizing the coveted league title.

As the curtain fell on this spectral saga, Paul Rye, once a miserly right-back, found his heart thawed by the radiant optimism kindled by the three hockey spirits. In the brisk winter air, a newfound zeal embraced him, echoing the triumphant chorus of a team reborn from the shadows of despair into the radiant light of victory.

Paul, now at the bottom of the snow-covered slope called out to those around him “What match week is it, my fine fellows?” To which a small child responded that it was week 9 of 18.

“I haven’t missed the second half of the season then! The spirits of hockey have shown me it all in one night and I can return and play for South Saxons best hockey team” cried out Paul.

“Well… technically the Ladies 2s have a better goal difference…”