Football Related 001

So somewhere along the lines I told you okes how much I love football (no, we don’t call it soccer) and if I didn’t, well, it takes up a lot of my thought process. I live in a house with 2 kids and a wife who gets as excited about football as you would about dishes, I need this, bare with me chaps.

My absent Father, despite his shortcomings, managed to pass on his love for the game. He put a ball at my feet from as young as I can remember. My mother in her infinite wisdom, saw the joy this simple game brought me and made sure I was enlisted with the happy chappies (under 6 football) by the time I was 4. 30 odd years later, a  bum knee and a bad back, I’m still playing, at a limp.

My love affair with the beautiful game started at an early age. When I started school, in Sub A, as it was called, from the get go, I was drawn to the STD 1 kids that would run out at break time to the makeshift football pitch, ball in hand. The first one there would shout “BOOKED”, claiming the rights to the field for that break. It was a tradition as old as time itself, as far as I was concerned, and I was immediately taken with the excitement of it all.

The first few weeks, I’d run out at break time, just to see who would book the field first, then stand on the sidelines, fetching the ball in the hopes that someone would invite this little pikkie Sub A to join in. Eventually I mustered up the courage to just jump in and start playing. By the end of that first school year, I was running out to try and book the field myself, I had become part of the football crowd…


I hope to pass the passion for football onto my boy.

To be continued…

Feature image Credit: Matthew Knott Craig

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