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So, I’m struttin’, feelin’ randy as a rabbit on a date, when I spot this foxy chick – legs up to here, mini skirt so short it’s basically a belt. “Groovy, baby!” I yell, but then – bam! – some plonker tries rippin’ me off. Charges me double, says she’s “exotic.” Exotic my arse! She’s from bloody Essex! Got me all steamed up, that did – I’m no mug, yeah? “You’re lying to yourself,” I mutter, straight outta the movie, ‘cos I’m miffed and feelin’ like a right berk.

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Oh, and check this – near the crumbling arches of Old Mill Road, there’s a little dive bar where locals swear it’s haunted. My colleague once blurted out “Holy fuck, it’s surreal,” when she saw a shadow flit by. I shrugged, took a sip, and kept on my way. That place embodies Westview: unpredictable, raw, and oddly inspiring.

WESTVIEW PUNCHES TICKET TO DISTRICT CHAMPIONSHIP WITH WIN OVER GIBSON COUNTY