For god's sakes, don't tell anyone, but it looks like I'm going to be going to the footie on Boxing Day* with my brother. His friend and fellow Bournemouth FC supporter Wayne is away on holiday in Australia, so Tony has his season ticket and I get to use it on Boxing Day.
I've only been to a football (that's 'soccer' for you weird American types) match once before. Again that was a Bournemouth game, and I was so concerned about being too cold that I kinda overdressed a bit, and spent the entire match firstly trying not to faint and secondly trying to disguise the fact that I constantly felt like I was just about to.
I can't remember who won, but it was apparently a pretty average game. I do know what the offside rule is, but the finer intricacies of footie are beyond me so I didn’t notice that the whole team played like spanners. I didn't care – it was fun regardless of the fact that I was overheating worse than my Dad’s old Triumph going up Telegraph Hill in the middle of summer.
So, come Boxing Day, at 12noon I shall be standing where the terraces used to be but where nice seats are now at Dean Court in Bournemouth and I shall be cheering on the Cherries against… er… whomsoever it may be that they’re playing.
I may, for exactly the same reason, be going to the footie this Saturday too. Apparently my brother, who didn’t so much ask me if I wanted to go as tell me that I probably am going, will let me know nearer the time. Knowing him, that means he’ll just turn up Saturday afternoon asking if I’m ready yet.
This time, I think I’ll wear just the one coat.
*I remember an American friend of mine not knowing what Boxing Day was, so in case you’re wondering, it’s St Stephen’s Day, i.e. the day after Christmas.
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