Jul surveying the kiting

Group having tea

Liv powering along (possibly walking backwards)

Jul suffering a bout of Delerium Ts (check out the green tendrils he thinks are coming to get him)

Rio

…as is aptly demonstrated by the first photo;-)

…and Sasha came too Air Blower…

According to Wikipedia
“After being rejected by Bristol Rovers Darren started his career in the lower leagues at Newport County, and when the club went bust he signed for Hereford United.

He scored only two league goals for the Magpies, one of which was in the 5-0 defeat of Manchester United.

Peacock later played for Blackburn Rovers. He soon lost his place in the team and spent loan spells at West Ham and Wolves. While on loan at Wolves he collided with his own goalkeeper in a match against Fulham, which resulted in damaged vertebrae in his neck and compression to his spine. He played on in the match despite being knocked unconscious, and it was only until he returned to Blackburn that the full extent of his injury came to light, having come close to paralysis.

Peacock now lives in Portugal with his family.”

According to Tommopedia
Darren Peacock was spotted by a scout at a young age who could tell that he had the potential to be really crap. Suspicions were confirmed when he was rejected by Bristol Rovers. He got a job scrubbing boots at Newport County and succeeded in bankrupting the club after a few short weeks.

After a few years working under cover for Manchester United at Newcastle and having successfully scuppered several championship bids he was sold to Blackburn who used him to keep the bench warm. He once played an entire match while fully unconscious at Wolves during which he played pretty much the same as usual – close to paralysis. He has never fully achieved consciousness, either before or since.

He is now in hiding in Portugal living off the bungs paid to him by Alex Ferguson.

I vividly remember seeing this long haired maestro rushing towards his own goal on repeated occasions hoping against hope he might manage to retrieve the ball he had just let through; but he never seemed to have enough speed to play ‘catch up’, never mind do what he was signed for.

What an era. Did I ever mention the poetic quality exhibited by Beardsley and Cole?