They go back a long way, to those final years of high school out in the fringe suburbs of this massive metropolis. The decision of others to leave school for the freedom of a regular wage, bound them more tightly together. Just fourteen of them thought that there must be more to life, the universe and everything than packing shelves at Permewans in Camden followed by the Royal Oaks on a Saturday night after an afternoon watching from some sideline somewhere.
Watchers on this far-removed sideline, see the camaraderie bubble over as flabby middle-aged bodies flow across the field, chasing and cajoling dreams. Instant gratification is not a quiver to their bow, time is on their side. They use their brain to gear up their capacity for hard work, working smarter, not just harder or longer. They are not into oysters, but if they were the world would be theirs.