"Oh what a save!", Desmond shouted as he rolled over onto the ball, his legs extended into the air. He had thrown the leg pads up in a desperate attempt to repel Tim's rebound and had succeeded in muting the shot.
"Nice one Des, I thought I had you," said Tim receiving the old tennis ball as Desmond scrabbled up in his 'crease'. Crease being a fairly accurate description on the canvas covered driveway. Most of that same driveway was cast in shadows now and the boys could feel the truly good hours of hockey ending and the truly good hours of bonding approach.