How many of us can say that, back in the day, we really did knock on a neighbour’s door or peer at them over a garden fence and ask if we could have our ball back?
For me and my football loving friends in Brancaster, if that ball had just happened to decapitate a few of a certain neighbours fledgling broad bean shoots, then we had little to no chance of its recovery.
It’s a good job new ones were cheap and freely available. Remember the sound they made when you kicked them, their smell when you left them in the sun for too long and how, if you’d done that, they bounced higher and further?
I always preferred the orange and black Striker plastic football although the preference in the school playground at the time seemed to be the replica Tango balls with the added bonus of their having all the current First Division clubs at the time stamped on them including, and we tended to take it for granted for a while, the name of our own.
Decades on and we all seem to be asking a similar question.
Can we have our game back, please?
As things stand, our pleas are useless. Teardrops …read more
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