Saw the two sides of English football yesterday. The limp, headless, self-defeating national side, and the barefoot, half-drunk in the sun transgenerational lineup.
The Grown-Ups & Greg versus The Kids with Richard & Phil.
We played barefoot, with tree stumps, plastic buckets and discarded shirts for goalposts. Classic English football flowed with all men playing defence, midfield and striker. Kids goal-hanging and diving.* Sunhats, streakers, audacious backheels, and pitch invasions from Supersoaking children.
I am now aching in muscles I had forgotten about and have grass-stains on my jeans. Thanks, Toby.
*There may have been one off-the-ball incident where I accidentally put somebody’s child on the ground. I mistook that child for another child. It’s okay, though, they played on.