Oliver Penswell, son of the reputed barrister Sir Anthony Earl Heathcomb Penswell, was born in Northumberland the day before Easter in the year of our Lord, 1783.

How frightful to think that this whelp grew into a fives captain at Marlborough before reading History at All Souls College, Oxford. One would have scarcely imagined that such a keen mind could be coupled with a most intimidating skill for gymnastic endeavor. The finest generals at Sandhurst might have traded three evening's pudding for the chance to poach mighty Oliver from the All Souls ranks, but fate has tightly bound this young gentlemen to the college he holds dear.

Oh, kind Fortune's mercy!

During his third year, while studying ancient relics alongside the likes of Professor Winston Elkington Chidesworth, Oliver discovered a most peculiar relic from the barbarous lands of yore. This wand-like heathen rattle, when tapped thrice against a common writing desk, teleports the adventurous youth two centuries into the future.

Lesser professors, such as the insufferable Lord Pusely, incorrectly identified the wand as the mythical Caduceus. Good heavens!

Though Oliver's studies ensure that his time traveling remains a Sundays-only affair, the young historian takes every opportunity to visit his friends and great-great-great-great grandchildren every seventh afternoon.

Sadly, young men of the future take no pleasure in discourse or hours long discussion of Socrates. But they do enjoy discussing their favorite sporting habits.

With this in mind, kind Oliver offers his occasional polemic on the topics of football, fives, punting, and whist. But mainly football.