The Beautiful Game

The Beautiful Game

The World Cup is now a distant memory. Sitting in my over crowded cranial hard drive somewhere between the flunked physics test and the boken collar bone incident. If it was my iPhone, I’d delete them all to free up some space. However, it’s strange how actually attending a match can drawer you back in again with tempting glimmers of glory and hope that a new season brings.

I attended one of Bury Towns rare home wins with a mate the other week. To be honest I had taken my eye off the game for a few seconds to tackle my cheeseburger when we scored the opener. Our conversation alternated from dodgy off-side decisions, to baby weaning. Times have changed.

Then it’s to Portman Road and the home of my firstlove, Ipswich Town. Time and money limit my visits, but it always has a special place in my heart. I’ve taken the kids to the stadium and it’s an experience they still talk about.

Next on the list is Wembley. The last time I went I was not only much younger, but also close to cardiac failure seconds before Reuser secured promotion with that goal (please pause to relive that magical moment…). Now, 14 years later (arghh!!!), the iconic two towers are gone and a giant arch in its place. I can’t wait to see it for myself as I take my son to his (and indeed my) firstcompetitive England match later this month.

My sons’ weekend football training is also a highlight not only for him, but also for me and his little sister, who loves to watch. As the smallest boy on the pitch he tries hard and loves every second. His feet aren’t big enough to get ‘proper boots’ like the rest of them, but that The World Cup is now a distant memory. Sitting in my over crowded cranial hard drive somewhere between the flunked physics test and the boken collar bone incident. If it was my iPhone, I’d delete them all to free up some space. However, it’s strange how actually attending a match can drawer you back in again with tempting glimmers of glory and hope that a new season brings. does not deter him. After all, no one else has an authentic green Mexico shirt, or bright orange Ipswich away kit to wear. I admire his ambition and enthusiasm, and can’t help but wonder if I was exactly the same at his age.

So, as the early sunsets try to scupper the whole family, post-dinner, garden kick about we have become so accustomed to, I am thinking of solutions. At the moment Poundland head torches, hi-viz tops, and a bright yellow ball are looking like the best option. A set of 1000watt halogen food lights may create some issues, and that’s before I even consider the impact on my strict energy saving regime!?

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