Author: Martyn Walker

He slowly crafts words like spells—poetry and politics his dual obsessions. He navigates backroom deals with the same finesse as crafting a verse, leaving both friends and enemies ensnared. What drives him? Is it the power of language or the language of power? Step closer, but be prepared—He’s unpredictable.
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Why Choose EOTs Over Traditional Buyouts?

I wrote the poem, then I wrote an explainer, then I realised the poem is redundant. Then I realised I don’t care what you think anymore, so the poem stayed.

Old Jerry ran a factory tight—
A little creaky, but mostly right.
He made fine parts for clever things,
Like wind-up ducks and copper springs.

One day he said, “It’s time to go—
I want a boat, perhaps Bordeaux.
I’ve earned my stripes, I’ll sell the shop,
And let the private buyers mop.”

They came in suits, with dazzling grins,
And PowerPoints with hockey pins.
They talked of “synergies” and “scale,”
Then fired poor Lizzie from the mail.

They closed the canteen, sold the van,
Rebadged the soap to “Corpé-San.”
They shrank the team and doubled goals—
Then pocketed the workers’ souls.

But wait! A voice from Dave in tools,
Who once mistook some files for mules:
“Why sell us out to suits and ties,
When we could own the enterprise?”

An EOT, friends, is not a trick—
It’s not just shares, it’s ownership.
It pays the founder just as well,
Without the need for sharks to sell.

It locks in legacy and pride,
And keeps the best folks on your side.
It gives the team a proper stake
In every part they build or make.

There’s tax relief (yes, quite a sum),
And zero cost to staff—not one.
The firm buys shares, the seller’s paid,
And futures aren’t just sold or swayed.

So next time suits begin to swarm,
And whisper “Let us help transform…”
Just stop and think—before you deal—
Remember this:

Time wounds all heels.

Authors Note:

Having thoroughly investigated the advantages of Employee Ownership Trusts (EOTs) compared to traditional Management Buyouts (MBOs) or direct corporate acquisitions, I can see no compelling reason why any business with 50 or more employees should consider a different route. The benefits to the owner, the employees, and the long-term integrity of the business are both significant and fair.

Please note, I do not sell services from these pages, nor do I host advertising. I am genuinely impressed by the potential of EOTs to deliver fairer outcomes for all parties involved. If you are a business owner who has come across this note and would like to learn more, feel free to contact me directly at slurps.mammal-3t@icloud.com (I know, but it’s what Apple gave me as a ‘spam reducing’ discardable email redirect).

PS. Groucho fans will understand the last line of the poem. Thank you, Groucho Marx—for the laughter that disarmed, the wit that endured, and the humility that defended. You made us laugh, and in doing so, you helped keep us standing.

What is an EOT?

Employee Ownership Trusts (EOTs) are a UK government-recognised succession option allowing a company to be sold to its own employees. Rather than a management buyout (MBO) or trade sale, an EOT gives control of the business to the workforce—preserving culture, protecting jobs, and delivering fair value to the owner.

An EOT:

  • Pays the owner full market value for their shares.
  • Requires no upfront investment from employees.
  • Offers generous tax relief to the seller (up to 100% CGT exemption).
  • Encourages long-term stability, growth, and alignment.
  • Avoids external interference or asset-stripping buyers.
  • In the UK-we have specialist companies that help business owners transition to employee ownership through:
    • Capital investment in employee-led buyouts
    • Legal and structural support for establishing an EOT
    • Ongoing governance to protect the interests of employees and sellers
    • Tools for engagement, transparency, and shared success

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The Adventure of X, Y, Z: A Treasure Hunt Story

One day in the tiny town of Gridville, two brothers, Jonathan and Christopher, were exploring their grandad’s attic when they found something exciting—an old treasure map!

The map had three mysterious lines marked X, Y, and Z, with a scribbled note:

“Follow these axes, and you’ll find the treasure. But beware! Confusion will leave you in a tangle!”

Christopher frowned. “Axes? Like pirate axes? Or tree-chopping axes?”

Jonathan, who was always quick to figure things out, nodded thoughtfully. “I bet it’s real treasure! Maybe even buried by a pirate!”

Grandad chuckled. “Not those kinds of axes, lads. These are the magic lines that help you find things in space!”

“Space?! Like rockets and aliens?” Christopher gasped.

“No, no, just the space around you! Look, I’ll show you.”

The Case of the Missing Parrot

Grandad placed a toy parrot, Captain Squawk, on the kitchen table.

“Let’s say Captain Squawk here is lost. How do we tell someone exactly where to find him?”

“Umm… ‘on the table’?” Jonathan guessed.

“Good start, but what if the table was as big as a football pitch? We’d need to be more precise!”

Grandad grabbed a piece of string and laid it straight across the table.

“This is the X-axis! It tells us how far left or right something is. Think of it like skating on ice—too far left, and whoops! You slide away!”

Christopher wobbled dramatically. “AHH! I’m sliding into the fridge!”

Jonathan grinned and said, “X to the side we slide!”

Grandad then stretched another string from the front to the back of the table.

“Now, this is the Y-axis! It tells us how far forward or backward something is. Like a pirate running across the deck—too far back, and SPLASH!”

Christopher ran on the spot, then pretended to fall overboard. “BLUB BLUB! The sea monster got me!”

Jonathan laughed and said, “Y steps front and back!”

Finally, Grandad took a balloon, tied it to the toy parrot, and let it float above the table.

“And THIS is the Z-axis! It tells us how high or low something is. Like a yo-yo going up and down!”

Christopher jumped, pretending to float. “I’m a balloon! Wheee!”

Jonathan grinned. “Z rises high or sinks low!”

The Treasure Hunt Begins


Armed with their new knowledge, the boys examined the treasure map. It read:

“Walk X = 3 steps to the right, Y = 2 steps forward, and dig Z = 1 spade deep.”

Jonathan counted carefully. “One, two, three to the right… one, two forward!”

Christopher grabbed a toy shovel and dug into the garden. CLUNK!

Their eyes widened. They pulled out a dusty old box and opened it to find…

“Cookies! This is the best treasure ever!” Christopher cheered, already stuffing one in his mouth.

Grandad grinned. “And now you’ll never forget your axes, will you?”

Jonathan smirked. “Nope! We’ll always know where to look!”

Then together, the brothers chanted:

“X to the side we slide,
Y steps front and back,
Z rises high or sinks low—
That’s the treasure-finding way to go!”

And from that day on, whenever someone in Gridville got confused about X, Y, and Z, the brothers would share their rhyme—sometimes while munching on a cookie.

The End.

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The Cosmic Dance: Sun, Moon, and Earth Explained

The Earth, the Moon, the mighty Sun,
Three bodies bound, yet each one spun,
To dance in patterns vast and true,
A clockwork waltz in cosmic blue.

The Moon, a mirror, cold and bright,
One-four-hundredth of the Sun’s great might,
Yet placed so perfectly between,
That solar halos can be seen.

A burning crown, a ghostly ring,
That bends the light, a fleeting thing—
The shadow cast, a measured veil,
A story told on cosmic scale.

And soon again, the world will gaze,
As twilight falls in midday haze.
On August 12th, in twenty-six,
The Sun and Moon their magic mix.

From Iceland’s shores to Spain’s embrace,
A fleeting night will take its place.
And Castellón, a golden land,
Will darken by the Moon’s own hand.

At half past eight, as day still glows,
The Sun hangs low, the shadow grows.
A veil of dusk will flood the skies,
As daytime dims before our eyes.

For ninety seconds, night will reign,
A ghostly crown, a silver chain—
The corona’s fire, soft yet wild,
A ring of light, the heavens’ child.

And though the Sun will rise once more,
This fleeting dark we can’t ignore.
A hush will fall, a gasp will rise,
As day dissolves in star-lit skies.

Yet even now, the dance goes on,
The balance held, the rhythm strong.
The planets move in silent grace,
Their orbits tied in time and place.

Beyond, the stars like diamonds shine,
Yet each one dwarfs our burning line.
A billion fires, a billion years,
Their light still flickers as it nears.

A universe of measured chance,
Of weight and balance, time and dance—
As if some sculptor’s careful hand
Had shaped the sky and drawn the land.

Yet here we are, so small, so brief,
Awake within a world of grief,
Yet blessed to see, to think, to know,
That stars still shine, and rivers flow.

So gaze in wonder, ask and seek,
For space is vast, and we are meek—
But in its vastness, thought takes flight,
And minds can touch the edge of light.

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How Morning Breath Turns Into Morning Bliss

The first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds, casting golden stripes across the rumpled bed. A young woman, tangled in the duvet like a recently shipwrecked survivor, stretched her arms above her head and let out an unguarded yawn. She blinked, still groggy, and ran a hand through her tousled hair.

Beside her, a man—handsome, annoyingly alert, and looking entirely too pleased with the new day—sat up and smiled. His hair was charmingly dishevelled, the kind that took no effort and would probably fall into place with a single pass of his fingers. He turned to her with the unmistakable look of a man about to do something deeply affectionate and entirely unwelcome at this hour.

He leaned in.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he murmured, his lips pursing for a kiss.

Panic flared in her eyes. She took a rapid step back, nearly tripping over the bedside rug. “Morning breath!” she blurted, holding up both hands in warning.

The words hung in the air for half a second before he beamed.

“Morning wonderful!” he corrected, eyes full of adoration.

Before she could protest further, he swooped in, cradling her face with both hands and planting a kiss—no, a whopping great kiss—full on her lips. It was the kiss that belonged in films, backed by swelling orchestral music, not in a bedroom still thick with the remnants of sleep and questionable breath.

Her eyes flew open in horror.

She had expected restraint. She had expected respect for the delicate social contract that governed mornings. But instead, she found herself locked in a kiss so deep, so passionate, that for a brief moment, she forgot her original objection.

Then reality crashed back.

She broke away, staring at him with the urgency of someone who had just swallowed a spider. He grinned, completely oblivious.

“You—” she stammered. “You really—You just—”

“Best way to start the day,” he declared, stretching his arms victoriously, as if he had just accomplished something noble.

She wiped her lips dramatically, narrowing her eyes. “You are too much of a morning person.”

“And you,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist, “are too cute when you’re flustered.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I need coffee. And mouthwash. Preferably in that order.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll put the kettle on.”

As he walked off, whistling cheerfully, she shook her head, muttering to herself.

“I swear, one of these days, I’ll just wake up before him and weaponise this.”

But she knew, deep down, she’d probably let him get away with it again tomorrow.

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The Peril of Warmongering: A Plea for Sanity

The clamour for war with Russia, increasingly echoed by politicians and mainstream media, is not only reckless but also deeply irresponsible. The ease with which some armchair commentators, journalists, and politicians dismiss the prospect of war as a mere geopolitical manoeuvre is astonishing. They forget—or have never truly understood—the catastrophic cost of modern warfare. Worse still, they try to smear those who advocate for diplomacy as “appeasers,” a lazy and historically illiterate insult designed to shut down debate.

Let’s be absolutely clear: opposing war does not mean supporting Russia. It means valuing human life over political posturing. It means recognising that war is not a game to be played by those with no skin in it. The loudest voices for conflict—the politicians who have never served, the journalists who will never see a battlefield, and the social media warriors pontificating from their bedrooms—are the ones least to bear the costs of their reckless rhetoric.

The Horror of War

Those who flippantly call for escalation seem to have forgotten—or never learned—the reality of war. War is not just an abstract clash of nations; it is the destruction of homes, the obliteration of cities, the deaths of men, women, and children who had no say in the matter. It is young soldiers, conscripted or otherwise, being sent to die for causes they barely understand, while their leaders sit comfortably in safety. It is entire generations of families torn apart, livelihoods ruined, and futures obliterated.

The idea that Russia can be “defeated” in the same way smaller nations have been toppled in the past is absurd. This is a nuclear-armed state with vast resources, a hardened military, and a leadership that has survived every attempt to isolate and weaken it. Those pushing for war seem to believe that Western superiority will guarantee a swift and clean victory. It won’t. Even conventional war with Russia would be ruinous; nuclear war would be the end of civilisation as we know it.

The Hypocrisy of Western Warmongers

The moral high ground claimed by the West is becoming increasingly difficult to justify. Critics of Russia love to highlight its political prisoners and suppression of dissent, yet in the UK, people are being imprisoned for jokes, offensive memes, and opinions deemed unacceptable by the establishment. We release murderers while punishing individuals for thought crimes. Meanwhile, the very people calling for war are the ones who celebrated Tony Blair, a man whose war in Iraq led to the deaths of hundreds of thousands. The same people who rage against Putin’s authoritarianism are often silent about the erosion of freedoms at home.

If our own political elite were held to the same standards they demand for others, many would be behind bars. Instead, they posture as champions of democracy while their own nations slide further into authoritarianism.

A Sensible Alternative

Instead of sabre-rattling and reckless escalation, we should be pursuing diplomacy with every available means. That is not weakness; it is wisdom. A truly strong nation does not rush into unnecessary wars—it seeks to avoid them. Strength is found in strategic thinking, not in chest-thumping bravado from people who will never face the consequences of their words.

Those who insult others as “appeasers” should be reminded that the real appeasement is refusing to challenge the march toward war. The real failure is allowing warmongers to dictate policy while silencing dissent. If we do not push back against this insanity, we will soon find ourselves in a war that no one—except the weapons manufacturers and a few deranged ideologues—actually wants.

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Walking in the Rain

The rain came down in steady waves, a cool, cleansing presence that wrapped around him like an old companion. It drummed against his hat, cascading in rivulets off the brim, pattering onto his shoulders and rolling harmlessly down the waxed canvas of his coat. Beneath its protective weight, he remained dry, warm, untouched—yet he welcomed the stray drops that found their way to his face. They streaked down his cheeks like fleeting ghosts of memory, cold against his skin, tasting of the city, of earth, of something distant and unplaceable.

The air smelled of wet pavement, of damp leaves and distant chimney smoke curling into the night. The scent stirred something in him, a whisper of autumns past, of bonfires and old flannel shirts that smelled of woodsmoke long after the fire had burned out. He inhaled deeply, as if drawing the moment into himself, keeping it safe.

The streets glistened under the streetlights, rain pooling in the cracks of the pavement, distorting reflections of passing headlights into liquid gold and silver. A car rushed by, sending up a spray that caught in the wind, but he didn’t step aside. Let it come. He was already part of the rain, already lost in it.

His boots struck the pavement in slow, measured steps, the rhythm comforting. The world had shrunk to this—just him, the falling rain, and the silence beneath it. There were no voices calling his name, no hurried footsteps approaching, no obligations waiting for him beyond this walk. And for once, that didn’t feel lonely.

The thought of his brother arrived as naturally as the mist curling through the air. It always did when he walked in the rain.

Ten years. A decade without the phone calls, the barbecues, the good-natured insults slung across the table over pints of beer. A decade without the late-night talks where everything and nothing were discussed, where they argued over politics and football but never once questioned the certainty that they would always have each other.

He heard his brother’s voice from the past, rough with laughter.

“You’d never survive without me,” his brother had teased once, flipping a burger on the grill, smoke curling into the twilight.

And yet, here he was. Surviving.

He hadn’t been to a barbecue since. Hadn’t stood in a garden with a beer in hand, pretending to care about who won the latest match, or watched his brother smirk as he told some exaggerated story that got bigger with each passing year. The invitations had dwindled, then disappeared. Friends had families, had lives that no longer revolved around the past. He understood. He never reached out either.

Still, he missed it. Not just his brother, but the ease of it all—the way things had simply been, without effort, without the need to try.

His parents had gone before that, leaving the world in the slow, inevitable way that parents do, shrinking down to quiet goodbyes and neatly packed boxes of things no one knew what to do with. He had sorted through it all, holding onto little but remembering everything. Their house had been sold. The place where he and his brother had grown up, where their mother had called them in for dinner, where their father had sat in the same worn chair reading the newspaper every evening—it belonged to someone else now.

And yet, the rain made it all feel close again.

Somehow, standing here in the downpour, he didn’t feel sad. The memories weren’t weights pressing down on him; they were simply there, part of the night, part of the rain-soaked world around him. He let them come and go as they pleased.

A gust of wind swept through the street, rustling the wet branches overhead, sending a fresh spray of droplets into his face. He exhaled, smiling faintly, and pulled his coat tighter. The warmth of it settled around him, a shield against the chill.

The rain was his tonight.

It softened the world, blurred the edges, washed everything clean. It didn’t ask anything of him, didn’t demand explanations or force him to move ahead. It simply existed, falling endlessly, whispering its secrets to anyone willing to listen.

And so, he walked on, alone but not lonely, disappearing into the rhythm of the storm. The rain was his companion. It was enough.

It was more than enough.

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The Hidden Costs of DEI Policies in the Workplace

Introduction

In recent years, the principles of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) have been widely adopted across public and private sectors, often positioned as essential for modern workplace culture. However, despite their well-intended aspirations, DEI initiatives have led to significant unintended consequences, particularly when prioritised over meritocracy. For small and medium enterprises (SMEs), corporations, and public services, the emphasis on DEI over merit can erode efficiency, undermine employee morale, and weaken institutional effectiveness.

This paper explores how the replacement of merit-based selection with DEI-led policies can lead to discrimination, inefficiency, and ultimately, a decline in organisational performance. The discussion will highlight the adverse effects on recruitment, operational effectiveness, and broader socio-economic stability.

1. The Shift from Meritocracy to Ideology in Hiring Practices

Traditionally, meritocracy has been the cornerstone of economic and institutional progress. The principle that individuals should be hired and promoted based on ability, experience, and performance has been fundamental to organisational success. However, DEI-driven hiring practices often prioritise demographic characteristics over competence, leading to:

• Skills Dilution – Hiring less capable candidates over more qualified ones in the name of diversity compromises organisational effectiveness.

• Workplace Resentment – Employees who are overlooked for positions due to DEI quotas may become disengaged and demoralised.

• Reduced Competition – When positions are filled based on non-performance-related criteria, there is little incentive for employees to strive for excellence.

For SMEs, where resources are limited and every hire matters, these effects are particularly damaging. Unlike large corporations, SMEs do not have the luxury of carrying inefficiencies caused by poor hiring choices.

2. Discrimination Against the Majority

A key paradox of DEI policies is that they often result in systemic discrimination against the majority workforce. The drive to meet diversity quotas has led to:

• Exclusion of the Most Capable – If selection is based on identity over ability, highly competent individuals can be passed over in favour of those fitting preferred demographic criteria.

• ‘Positive Discrimination’ Undermining Fairness – While intended to correct past injustices, policies that favour one group inherently discriminate against another, creating fresh inequalities.

• Lower Morale and Workplace Division – Employees who perceive promotions or opportunities being handed out based on factors unrelated to merit often feel alienated, leading to division within teams.

Rather than fostering genuine inclusivity, DEI policies often breed resentment and reduce trust in leadership, particularly when those implementing such strategies appear detached from their consequences.

3. The Deterioration of Public Services

The public sector has embraced DEI at an aggressive pace, often at the cost of operational efficiency. In critical areas such as healthcare, law enforcement, and education, the prioritisation of DEI over merit has led to:

• Lower Standards – Public service providers lowering entry and qualification requirements to meet DEI targets.

• Compromised Safety – The police and military, for example, have faced scrutiny for lowering physical and cognitive standards to achieve diversity quotas, potentially affecting public safety.

• Declining Performance and Accountability – When individuals are appointed based on DEI policies rather than skill, accountability diminishes as failure is often shielded from criticism to avoid political backlash.

This decline in public service effectiveness is then used by governments to justify increased taxation, further burdening productive members of society while failing to address the root causes of inefficiency.

4. Corporate Performance and Investor Confidence

Large corporations implementing DEI policies often do so under pressure from activist shareholders, regulatory bodies, or social movements. However, the long-term impact of these policies can be detrimental:

• Declining Productivity – Workforces selected based on identity rather than ability perform worse, reducing productivity and innovation.

• Investor Withdrawal – Shareholders prioritising returns over political agendas may divest from companies whose hiring practices reduce profitability.

• Reputational Risks – Companies that prioritise ideological commitments over customer service and performance often suffer reputational damage when the impact of such policies becomes evident.

Many of the world’s most successful businesses have historically thrived due to competition and meritocracy, rather than ideological hiring mandates.

5. The Economic Cost of DEI Overreach

The economic ramifications of prioritising DEI over merit are wide-reaching, with consequences including:

• Reduced Global Competitiveness – Nations and industries that abandon meritocracy in favour of ideological hiring may find themselves outpaced by competitors who focus on ability and efficiency.

• Wage and Tax Burdens on the Productive – As inefficient organisations struggle, governments turn to higher taxation to cover shortfalls, punishing those who are productive while subsidising ineffective systems.

• A Culture of Compliance Over Innovation – Employees in DEI-focused organisations often prioritise conforming to mandated narratives rather than thinking critically, reducing innovative output.

In effect, DEI policies risk creating an artificial economy where competence is secondary to ideological adherence, placing a significant drag on long-term economic growth.

6. The Path Forward: Reclaiming Meritocracy

If organisations wish to thrive, a return to meritocracy is essential. This does not mean ignoring diversity, but rather ensuring that all hiring and promotion decisions are rooted in:

• Competence Over Quotas – The best candidate for the job should always be chosen, regardless of background.

• Equal Opportunity, Not Equal Outcomes – Organisations should ensure a level playing field rather than enforcing demographic representation.

• Freedom of Thought and Expression – Employees should be encouraged to challenge ideas rather than conform to mandated ideological positions.

For businesses and public services alike, efficiency, excellence, and innovation should remain the primary objectives.

Conclusion

While DEI policies were originally designed to address historic inequalities, their implementation in modern organisations has created new challenges that threaten operational effectiveness, fairness, and economic stability. Prioritising ideology over ability has led to inefficiency, workplace division, and economic stagnation.

For SMEs, corporations, and public services to remain effective and competitive, a shift back to meritocratic principles is necessary. Only by selecting the best individuals based on talent, effort, and ability—rather than identity—can organisations and societies prosper.

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Family Fun: The Ultimate Sibling Rivalry on the Football Field

A story about fun, family, and a little bit of sibling rivalry

The sun was shining, the grass was soft, and the whole family had gathered at the park for a big football match.

Jonathan stood tall in goal, bouncing on his toes. He was ready for anything! Across the pitch, his little brother Christopher stood proudly as the striker for his team. He was nearly five years old (his birthday was just two weeks away!), and today, he had one big mission: score a goal!

“I won’t let you score,” Jonathan called.

Christopher grinned. “Oh yes, I will!”

Their mum, dad, aunties, uncles, and cousins spread out across the field. Even Grandad was playing—although he said he would be “the manager” and mostly stood on the sidelines, offering wise football advice like, “Kick the ball the right way!”

Then, just as the match was about to start, someone new appeared on the pitch.

It was Daniel, their eleven-year-old cousin. But he wasn’t playing for a team—he was dressed in black and holding a whistle.

“I’m the referee,” Daniel announced. “And I have a secret game plan!”

Everyone gasped.

“What secret game plan?” Jonathan asked.

Daniel shook his head. “It’s a secret!” he said, winking.

Christopher giggled. This was going to be fun!

Kick-Off!

The game began with a big kick-off. Christopher’s team ran forward, passing the ball to each other as they moved towards Jonathan’s goal.

Christopher got the ball and dribbled forward, carefully concentrating. He lined up his shot, swung his foot back, and…

WHOOSH!

A sudden gust of wind rolled the ball away!

“Hey!” Christopher laughed, running after it. “That didn’t count!”

The family laughed as he caught up to the ball and tried again.

The Wobbly Penalty

A few minutes later, Christopher’s team won a penalty! Everyone cheered.

Christopher carefully placed the ball on the grass. He took a deep breath, got ready to shoot, and…

WHOOSH!

His shoe flew off instead of the ball!

It soared through the air and landed right next to Jonathan, who quickly picked it up and held it like a trophy.

“I saved it!” Jonathan declared.

The family burst into laughter, and even Daniel, the referee, had to smile.

“The secret game plan is working,” he muttered to himself.

Christopher put his shoe back on, narrowed his eyes at Jonathan, and said, “Next time, I’m kicking the ball, not my shoe!”

The Impossible Save

Christopher had another chance! He dribbled towards the goal, dodging past Mum, swerving around Auntie Gemma, and racing towards Jonathan.

Jonathan crouched low. He was ready!

Christopher struck the ball with all his might. It zoomed towards the goal.

Jonathan dived like a superhero. He stretched out his arms, reached with his fingers, and…

SMACK!

He just managed to push the ball away!

The crowd (mostly family members) erupted in cheers—some for Christopher’s brilliant shot, some for Jonathan’s amazing save.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you score!” Jonathan teased.

Christopher crossed his arms. “I’ll get one past you soon!”

A Little Help from the Dog

Just as Christopher got the ball again, ready for another shot, something unexpected happened.

BARK BARK BARK!

A friends dog, Benny, came racing onto the pitch! His tail wagged wildly as he charged straight at the ball.

CHOMP!

He grabbed it in his mouth and ran off, zooming around the field with the ball held tight.

“Benny!” Christopher shouted, running after him.

Soon, the whole family was chasing Benny, laughing as he zig-zagged across the grass. Eventually, Grandad held up a dog treat, and Benny dropped the ball right at Christopher’s feet.

Christopher grinned. “Thanks, Benny! But I still need to score a real goal!”

The Sibling Showdown

Time was running out. It was now or never!

Christopher’s team made one final push. The ball was passed to him, and he ran towards the goal. Jonathan was ready.

Christopher faked left. Jonathan moved left.
Christopher faked right. Jonathan moved right.
Then—suddenly—Christopher did something unexpected…

He stopped!

Jonathan froze. “What’s he doing?”

Then—BAM! Christopher tapped the ball gently to the side and sprinted around Jonathan!

Before Jonathan could turn back, Christopher kicked the ball into the net!

GOOOAAALLL!

Christopher jumped in the air with excitement!

Jonathan stared, then smiled. “Okay, that was a great goal.”

The Big Celebration

The whole family cheered.

Jonathan and Christopher shook hands.

Then—before anyone could stop them—they broke into a tickle fight!

As everyone laughed, Daniel the referee blew his whistle. “And now… it’s time for my final announcement!”

“What is it?” Jonathan and Christopher asked.

Daniel grinned. “The secret game plan… was to make sure we all had as much fun as possible!”

Jonathan and Christopher looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Well, that worked!” said Christopher.

And so, the family match ended, not with winners or losers, but with laughter, teamwork, and the best game ever played.

And, of course…

a trip to get ice cream. 🍦

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Jonathan’s Never-Ending Winning Streak

Jonathan was the fastest and most skilful player in his school’s tag rugby team, the Green Flyers. No matter who they played, they always won. His team had never lost a match—not once all season! They trained hard, played with great teamwork, and had fun, but Jonathan sometimes wondered: Was it just luck? Or was there something special about the Flyers?

One rainy afternoon after training, Coach Morgan called Jonathan over. He was an old player himself, with a booming voice and a twinkle in his eye.

“Jonathan,” he said, “you and the Flyers have a perfect record. But tell me—what would happen if you faced a team that had never lost either?”

Jonathan frowned. “Another team like us? But we’ve beaten everyone!”

Coach Morgan chuckled. “Not The Invincibles. No one has ever beaten them either.”

Jonathan had never heard of The Invincibles before. “Are they real?” he asked.

“Oh, they’re real,” said the coach. “And next Saturday, you’ll play them in a special match. It’ll be the game of the season—two teams, both unbeaten, but only one can stay that way.”

The Invincibles Arrive

When the big day came, Jonathan felt a little nervous for the first time. The Green Flyers ran onto the pitch, ready for anything. But when The Invincibles arrived, the Flyers all stopped and stared.

They weren’t a normal team. Their kits were dark blue, their socks pulled up high, and every single player had a calm, confident look. They didn’t chatter nervously or bounce around like other teams. They just stood there, watching.

As the referee blew the whistle, the game began, and Jonathan quickly realised something strange—The Invincibles always seemed to be one step ahead.

If Jonathan ran left, they were already there.
If he tried to pass, they had predicted it.
Every time the Flyers got close to scoring, The Invincibles knew what was coming.

By half-time, neither team had scored a try. It was the toughest match Jonathan had ever played.

Uncovering the Secret

At the break, Jonathan gulped some water and looked over at The Invincibles. They weren’t tired. They weren’t frustrated. They stood together, as if they already knew they would win.

That’s when Jonathan noticed something. Their captain, a tall girl called Lara, was whispering something to her team. And then he saw it—they were watching everything before it happened.

“They’re not faster,” he realised. “They’re not stronger. They just read the game better than us!”

Jonathan turned to his teammates. “Listen up! They’re not unbeatable. They’re just great at spotting what’s about to happen. So let’s change the way we play! No more predictable passes, no more obvious runs. Let’s trick them!”

The Flyers nodded. This was the challenge they had been waiting for.

The Greatest Match Ever Played

When the second half started, Jonathan didn’t sprint down the wing like usual. Instead, he jogged, making The Invincibles second-guess where he was going. He faked a pass, then spun in the opposite direction.

The Flyers changed their whole style. They zig-zagged, they stopped and started, they passed in unexpected directions.

For the first time ever, The Invincibles looked surprised.

Then, with just one minute left, Jonathan spotted a gap. He ran—not straight, not left, not right, but in a completely new way. He darted, dodged, and dived through, flying over the try line just as the final whistle blew!

The crowd erupted. The Flyers had done it!

Winning the Right Way

After the match, Lara from The Invincibles walked over and shook Jonathan’s hand. “That was the best game we’ve ever played,” she said. “You didn’t just win. You got better.”

Jonathan grinned. “So did we both win, in a way?”

Lara smiled. “Maybe.”

Coach Morgan put his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “Now that was real rugby,” he said. “Not luck. Not magic. Just skill, teamwork, and a bit of clever thinking.”

As Jonathan walked off the pitch with his team, he realised something important. Winning all the time wasn’t the best part. The best part was playing the game—and learning how to be even better next time.

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The Floating Feather Race: A Magical Bedtime Story

A Bedtime Story

1. The Whispering Feathers

One evening, as the sun dipped below the hills, a special contest was announced in the little town of Featherwick. But this was no ordinary race—no running, no jumping, no rushing about.

It was the Floating Feather Race.

The challenge? Keep a feather floating in the air for as long as possible—without touching it! The only thing the racers could use was their breath.

Jonathan, Christopher, and Daniel each picked a feather from the soft pile at the starting line. Some feathers were white like snow, some golden like sunshine, and some shimmered with a hint of blue, like the evening sky.

A wise old owl, the race’s referee, fluffed up his own feathers and hooted:

“A feather floats, so soft, so light,
Lift it gently, keep it in flight.
A breath so slow, a breeze so small,
Let the feather never fall.”

The race was about to begin…

2. The First Puff

Jonathan took a deep breath and blew gently. His feather wobbled, then lifted, drifting lazily upward.

Christopher let out a tiny puff of air—his feather bobbed in place, floating just above his hands.

Daniel, the eldest, tried a strong gust. But whoosh! His feather shot straight up, twirled, and tumbled to the ground. The owl chuckled.

“Not too strong and not too fast,
Feathers need a breath that lasts.
Gentle, steady, soft and slow,
This is how the feathers go.”

So Daniel tried again, this time blowing softly, watching as his feather danced in the air, twirling like a leaf in the wind.

3. The Rising Breeze

The race grew more exciting as the feathers floated higher. Some drifted like tiny clouds, others spun slowly, twinkling in the golden evening light.

A small breeze arrived, lifting the feathers even further. But the owl reminded them:

“Breathe with care, feel the air,
Let the feather float up there.
Not too high and not too low,
Just a gentle breath to go.”

Jonathan and Christopher giggled as their feathers hovered above their heads. Daniel, now focused, kept his feather perfectly balanced in the air.

4. The Final Drift

As the last rays of sunlight touched the treetops, the owl called out:

“One more breath, light as air,
Drift your feather here and there.
Slow and soft, let it be,
Floating high so gracefully.”

The children gave their feathers one last, soft puff… and watched them drift, slowly, softly, gently down—landing without a sound.

The race had no losers—only quiet champions of the wind.

“Beautiful!” hooted the owl. “You’ve learned the secret of the Floating Feather Race—patience, breath, and calm.”

The children smiled, feeling peaceful and warm. The air still carried the soft dance of their feathers, and they knew…

Tonight, they would sleep as gently as their floating feathers.