Will Garske [c] slunk out of his den in the moot rooms just before sunrise this morning. The External Competitions VP’s ghostly skin, unused to sun after a summer in the Lawbry, shimmered in the sunlight as he slunk out of his foul hideaway.

Tipped off to the Captain's location by a source in the Maritime Law moot team, The Obiter was able to follow him on his journey. Though, it wasn’t very hard, one need only follow the trail of fish heads and Linkedin Kudos.

"What’s cricket, precious?" confused for a moment, the creature hesitated, "Not moot? Not for cee veee?"

Suddenly, the formerly frightful figure seemed to glow with a healthy Australian tan, as though the spirit of Shane Warne had infused his body with cricketing power.

"Yeah, Crix mate."

Garske's stride lengthened as he left the surrounds of the TCB, the birds singing in the trees welcomed him out of his dark cave, and back into the beautiful Queensland summer. His back, curved from countless hours of reading obscure 1950's admiralty law reports, straightened slowly the further he moved from the Lawbry.

He pulled out his mobile.

"Renshaw, mate. I'm done with this mooting shit, let's go hit the nets."

"Really? You wanna bench for Suri on Sunday? Look, it's a pretty stacked team but I'll see what I can do for you."

He athletically swung his bat at an imaginary ball. Out of the shadow of his handsome mentor Ryan Catterwell, the cricket champion had returned.

More to come.

Sunday 5 March UQ Field 9 11am. Be there.