World Cup Final
Half term, the clocks going back, The Bake Off final, Halloween – all things that have distracted everyone from the main event this week, the World Cup Final tomorrow.
England have made it (in case you were unaware or have been under a rock all week). If you were under a rock, how was it for you? And why were you there? How did you choose that rock? So many questions!
Some people don’t like the egg chasing, but you have to respect how well they’ve all done to get to this point, and how far they’ve come from their days of drinking urine through people’s socks when they were 15.
A 9am start is very dangerous from a drinking perspective and I can just imagine the absolute carnage throughout the country if England win. If we lose, it could be even worse…
My dad said to me before the tournament that he wouldn’t be surprised if South Africa won it. At the time that was a very bold statement, but he is clearly very wise as nobody else gave them much of a chance – well done Micky B!
In my head and throughout my childhood, I was going to make it as a professional footballer – I saw myself as a young Robbie Fowler, due to my natural finishing ability… unfortunately this was all in my head. I then got to secondary school and was introduced to rugby.
My first few games involved me finding some mud and wiping it on my shorts and shirt so it looked like I was involved, whilst I actively avoided the ball. I then got more into it and found myself playing as a hooker. Everyone has a story like this, but I once had trials for Northants and Oxfordshire (deffo sound like Jay from The Inbetweeners).
I wasn’t the tallest, I mean I wasn’t in midget territory, but I felt it when my props were almost 5” taller than me. I didn’t win a single scrum and obviously was not picked for either county. Me being me, decided that I didn’t want to play anymore after not getting picked; I was like that kid that took the ball away and walked home with my bottom lip out.
To be honest, this probably was a good thing as it meant I never had to take part in all the crazy off-field rugby antics that are notorious with the sport (like the whole urine thing above).
Anyway, enough about me and my failed football, rugby (and tennis, but lets not go there just yet) careers.
Have a great weekend and COME ON ENGLAND!