ON SATURDAY I saw a marvellous football match. The game was the sort that reminds you how uplifting sport can be. Skilfully played, well refereed and with fortunes ever-changing.

The crowd stood at the end giving the players of both sides a standing ovation. Each team congratulated the other – mutual respect abounded as it should.

The Pride of the English Riviera, Torquay, had taken on the Kings of the Cotswolds, Forest Green, and played out a 3-3 draw.

The Torquay ground is high up in the town on the edge of Babbacombe, well appointed and well drained, with a magnificent playing surface.

I was given a programme, directed to the press box and for the first time in my life had a reserved seat.

‘John Light (SNJ and WGS)’, said the printed label. I sat there proudly, but not until I had explained to numerous West-based journalists what the initials stood for.

With a lovely view north to Dartmoor and an uninterrupted view of the whole field, Torquay is the best place in the Conference from which to report.

Occasionally joining in the radio commentary (I hope I was not too effusive) the contest evolved before me. Torquay were given two goals start and as they had conceded only five all season the worst was feared.

Not by manager Ady Pennock and his players! They swarmed forward scoring three goals and earning a draw. Both sides had heroes all over the pitch and the final-whistle oration was observed by everyone.

The day got even better, I returned to Cirencester as Strictly Come Dancing was just ending. My supper was ready and Mrs Light had made the Christmas cake, as well as finishing her sermon for Sunday. Having enjoyed our very different days, we had a well deserved quiet evening.

Up and about early that morning I had seen a notice about a new boxing club in Cirencester. Meeting at The Nelson Inn and offering coaching by qualified and experienced coaches this looks like being a worthwhile addition to the Cirencester sporting scene. Good luck to all concerned.

My reference to shooting last week prompted several readers to ask if I would be turning my attention to hunting. I have an answer that is both brief and succinct ‘NO CHANCE’.

There has been so much muddled and ill-informed writing from both sides on the subject which is now controlled by equally muddled legislation, I could only add to the confusion. But I do think it is worth mentioning that more foxes are probably killed on Cotswold roads than by our local hunts.

Many readers will know Mike Smith, in his day a well-known local footballer and cricketer but better known recently as a previous licensee of The Golden Cross, steward at Cirencester Golf Club and so much more.

Mike is in Cirencester Hospital recovering from a stroke. Mike is always good company and the sort of man who makes the world go round. We all wish him a speedy and full recovery.

Mike’s illness is the sort of event that transcends sport and such trivial matters as winning and losing and so do the many remembrance services held last week.

The one at FGR took place just before kick-off when Rovers hosted a match against Eastleigh. It was especially moving to see the young footballers standing in silence while the names of those from Nailsworth who made the ultimate sacrifice were displayed on the electronic scoreboard.

Seventy three young men never returned to the small Cotswold town.

One of the players spoke for all after the game when he said: “The service made me realise how lucky we are to be playing football. Our generation has much to be thankful for.”

My memory of that night is the sound of the bugle wafting away across the Cotswold valley. I was not the only one with a tear in my eye. Well done, Rovers for staging such a service.