Did you play, Roger?
It's possibly even more brutal when most of those playing have only ever done so on those Boxing Day matches. Shinty doubles in danger when you don't know what you're doing. But these were mostly old friends going back to childhood from the Dunkeld area, and whilst there was actually a referee with shinty knowledge, the pitch lines were made by someone dragging their boot through the frost (and largely ignored), and the goals were the wrong shape (soccer, rather than the narrower-but-taller shinty regulation ones), and assembled from rusty remnants found in the long grass. The two teams were distinguished by one side wearing blue bibs (or as many as could be found), whilst the other side just wore what they turned up on...which was mostly blue, but with a smattering of Christmas jumpers (it was bloody cold!). If ever a match lives up to the adjective 'friendly' it is this one, even though no quarter was given. And yet, more locals turned out to watch the game (and cheer on both sides) than I've seen at some St Johnstone games during the truly fallow years.
I was asked if I wanted to play several times, my daughters having made it known that I played for Perth's Tayforth Camanachd team in my late teens and early twenties (I still have my caman...[stick]). 45 years ago, it would have been an instant yes. But these days, I had enough doubts whether I'd make it to half time as a spectator. I did, but then one of my daughters shivered, and we all willingly grasped the opportunity to slip away at half time for a bit of warmth, so I can't tell you the final score. But then neither could most of those playing, I suspect.
