I am just going outside and may be some time.

These were the immortal words famously attributed to Captain Lawrence Oates.

Oates was a member of Robert Falcon Scott’s ill-fated Terra Nova Expedition to the South Pole in the early 20th century - a tragic story of endeavour, heroism, horror, and sorrow. Suffering from severe frostbite and realising he was slowing down the group’s progress on their return from the pole, in a barely understandable act of self-sacrifice, he walked out of the tent into a blizzard, and was never seen again.

Rather less heroically, these were also the words I said to my editor before walking out of his office, one grey Tuesday afternoon. The faint whiff of spring danced across the breeze, but the lingering melancholy of winter had not yet fully been blown away.

As I strode away in search of a bar in which to quench my growing thirst, I was reminded of a question posed by a dear friend of mine: in the pursuit of our careers, have we forgotten what it meant to have fun while we were doing it?

I needed time to think. Time to take a break from writing; that which has often pulled me through life. Something that I often find I am the servant of, rather than a professional.

An hour or two passed, and the nothingness I was thinking was suddenly displaced as a news notification popped up on my phone: PC where R they? 5 become 4 in the PLB finale!

I finished what was left of my second beer and rushed home. I hadn’t been covering our favourite rolling sport in quite some time. In fact, I'd had my attention occupied by the other side the Atlantic, having been pulled away to report on the rumours of an American bowling rival.

Sources close to the Trump organisation had let slip the President was rumoured to be bankrolling the BBBL. The Big, Beautiful, Bowling League.

With Mr President’s pathological need for attention long established, the London-based franchise had fallen into his crosshairs due to its ever-rapidly evolving popularity.

There were reports he’d even set up an office within the West Wing to mastermind his typically hostile takeover. An office which became known - among his enemies at least - The BitFatuation Room.

The thought occurred to me. Had I missed something and were these two stories connected? The once darling new-boys of the league weren’t joining him as a founding team….They couldn’t, surely, they mustn’t. They wouldn’t!

That night I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t sleep. There had to be something to this. Pouring over old files and interviews I was sure I’d come up with a nugget; a thread to pull which would unravel the whole thing.

Getting nowhere, I sent out my journalistic equivalent of an SOS. I poked and prodded out a text to a friend and former colleague - Richard Novels.

“Ol’ Dicky Clean Books” as he was known as in the trade. An esteemed investigative journalist, he specialised in financial crimes and he had a seemingly mystical ability to sniff out impropriety and trace its breadcrumbs all the way home.

If he could find, what would undoubtedly have been a dirty deal, he would find it. Of that, I had full confidence.

A day passed. Then another; and another. This was strange. Books should have found something by now. Then the doorbell rang. I was surprised, I didn’t realise I had a doorbell.

Ol’ Dick walked past me as though I wasn’t there, his arms full of folded papers and notebooks.

Slamming it down on the table, he exclaimed to me: “It’s not happening. There’s no way they’re leaving the league”.

He guided me through, Labrador-esque, his workings out. Every dollar coming out of the White House into the pockets of the world’s narcissists, brutes, and spray-tanneries could be accounted for. And nothing pointed to Pin City Rollers. Nothing.

I breathed a blessed sigh of relief. After covering Premier League Bowling since its inception I really could not believe.

After we tidied our papers away, the other feelers I had sent out started to come in, all confirming the same thing. Lo and behold, once the mainstream rags picked it up, the messages started coming out:

PCR U Ready? PLB team exonerated as they say “we will be there”.

As anyone who follows the League will know, it’s tough to say that this season is anyone’s game. The Milanese look to have this one signed, and sealed, all it needs is delivery on Friday.

But come on.. it’s never that easy is it in sport? There’s always a story waiting to be written.

Who knows what will happen, but I can tell you three things: My ticket’s bought, my flight’s on time, and my pencil’s sharp.

I’ll see you all there, and in the meantime, and as always, keep them rolling.

Gutther Bahwl