I blame my dad…well initially I blame him. I also blame the man who should have become my husband and my best friend Jack. All three of them, the father, the turd and the holy spoke. It’s why I am here this evening, here freezing my backside off watching my team playing against Oxford United in the F.A Cup. My company as you can see, is a fairly warm pie, a Thermos flask and a rucksack containing a fairly well read and crossword attempted newspaper, a new note pad, envelope, pen and a diminishing book of stamps in which at some point I will write to the man who should have been my husband two and half years ago that I completed the challenge laid down before me. I shall write, much more kindly it has to be said, to my dad who decided to stay at home and watch some old tosh on the television rather than see me complete the task….that’s not fair as he went to quite a few games with me but a few weeks back he slipped over in the ice outside Wigan station and broke his leg, and I shall write with glee and pleasure to friend Jack and tell him he is not the only stupid arse to complete the ninety-two.
Tag Archives: football
The Three Lions, Theatre Review. Playhouse Theatre, Liverpool.
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10
Cast: Dugald Bruce-Lockhart, Antonia Kinlay, Ravi Aujula, Séan Browne, Tom Davey, Lewis Collier.
The performance on the field of play is what sells newspapers and lights up the hope in a nation. It is though the commotion, the sometimes arrogant fuss and nail chewing excitement that goes on behind the scenes that captures the imagination and provides the truth behind the success and failure, the unbelievable high and the very desperate low which makes drama so fulfilling.
World Cup Memories (1982).
First published by Ace Magazine on-line. May 2014.
It was all about England having qualified for the World Cup for the first time since I had started following football with passion in 1976 that led me to watching nearly every match in the 1982 tournament with a grin and in equal measure, painful despair, etched all over my face.
I remember fragments of the World Cup in Argentina, however by and large the 1978 World Cup was something that by-passed me in much the same way as every other lad in my year at school developing a love of cars and engines, I knew it existed, but I had other past-times to pre-occupy me.