455: Fierce Vendetta Culture

Oh God, yeah.

James Reece sends this on the Blue Sky DM of, uh, quite a rare bird, this.

Ooh.

Quite a rare bird on the Blue Sky DM.

"I have a player spotted for you," says James.

"Got off the, just got off the runway." What? "For context," he says, "I work for the Maserati Mafia, but in" uh, the Harlequins.

Yes.

[lip smacks] "But in the foundation working with disengaged or neurodi- neurodiverse young people, so I'm morally absolved for the Redcino jokes." I'll accept that.

I'll accept that, James, I think.

Yeah.

A fair deuce to you.

"We took our group on a trip to see the inner workings of Heathrow Airport." Fucking hell, jammy get.

I'd be up for that.

That'd be great.

Yeah, I know, right?

"And while walking around terminal five, my colleague spotted a familiar bald head.

He was suited and booted and walking with intent towards the taxi rank.

It was none other than George Skivington."

Ah.

"He looked at us in our Quinn's kit and matching lanyards and gave me a nod.

We clearly knew him, and he clear- and he clearly did not want to talk to us." Fair enough.

"Presumably he was off to the Prem Rugby Awards that very evening." This is a couple of weeks ago, this.

"If not, he looked a bit odd in full number ones at the airport."

I mean, I'm not sure what Gloucester would've been winning at the Prem Rugby Awards this season, but yeah, I mean-

Why were the Prem Rugby Awards held in Cannes or something? Why was he at the airport?