Not Sheffield but Zak Avery

My memory is sometimes dim and distant but also prone to moments of clarity.

My memory is that I promised Zak Avery a cash donation equivalent to what I'd spent on a Sunday out in Sheffield. After all, he was running a half marathon. I'd just be lounging around getting pissed networking with reprobate brewers industry professionals.

He ran it. So I didn't spend a Sunday in Sheffield.

(the fact that I spent a Saturday in Sheffield instead shall be a bone of contention between me and my bank manager later on this month)

He's almost raised a thousand pounds. Do one thing for me tonight. If you get the odd laugh from what I usually do here, bung Zak a few more quid. Let's carry him across that grand line together.