Like some wild-west gunslinger

The company football team has won a trophy.  The team was founded about a year ago by Adam Russell who works on the Sales Desk.  Originally it included players from all over the company, including the warehouse, but gradually people have dropped out, or left the company, and now it is mainly made up of people from the Sales Desk plus one person from Accounts.  They take the whole thing immensely seriously, and have titles for each other like “Director of Football” and “Training Manager”.  Adam Russell is the captain. 

One of the tasks allotted to the Marketing department (and actually a chore I hate since it is so time-consuming and involves chasing people for contributions) is to send out every Friday an e-mail newsletter to all employees, detailing what has happened in each department that week.  It’s mostly trivial stuff, and various in-jokes, plus official company announcements.  A photograph has been sent to me of the winning football team, to go in this week’s newsletter.  Because the big silver trophy they won is being engraved, all they have available to show off are their little personal trophies.  These look rather silly in the photograph, especially as the team has projected such a big-shot reputation for itself.  But the team is so proud of its achievement I don’t have the heart to advise them to wait until the big trophy is available. 

Adam Russell in particular has been crowing about the winning match, and how the team will soon be taking on and beating other, more senior, teams in the league.  Because he is so small, and also the youngest person in the office, he is routinely put-down by almost everyone (my assistant, Adrian Taylor, is so dismissive towards him that he appears rude).  So who can blame Adam if he spends the next few days boasting and bragging and walking around the office like some wild-west gunslinger. 


The little cups (detail)