I suppose it would have been quite a chilly sort of lake. Even so, there's no need to send him home, surely? I and a chum once fell into the fishpond in the quad whilst wrestling. We just got hauled before the beak, given a savage böllocking, a Saturday morning detention and were left to drip dry for the rest of the day.
Everyone's Milchbubis nowadays, I'm afraid.
Still, they break up today so the two or three members of staff charged with escorting him to the train were no doubt anxious to get to the pub and have done with it. Under the circs, any old excuse would do, I guess.
"Plenty of strikers can score goals," he said, gesturing to the famous old stands casting shadows around us.
"But a lot have found it difficult wearing the number 9 shirt for The Arsenal."