Ole! Ole! Ole!

Now you’ll have to bear with me on this one because the facts are a little hazy, but believe me the memories will live long in the heart.

Like most boys during the 1970’s the absence of todays technological advances meant that football to me was everything, in fact it consumed me. In my mind no one could ever begin to understand the joy I felt when I had a football at my feet. What’s more it didn’t matter whether I was playing for my local team, in the playground at school or playing on the local park with my mates, I just had to play at every opportunity. 

Cue memories of jumpers for goalposts and ‘rush’ goalies!

Star Soccer

Let me take you back, right back actually to Saturday 17^th January 1981. It’s about 9.40am and like most teenagers I’m having a problem dragging my wiry little carcass out of bed!

I pop my head out from under the bed sheets, reach out and pull aside my bedroom curtains to get a glimpse of what it’s doing outside. It looks like another cold one, a thin layer of ice appears to have set on the outside of the window and small pools of condensation have started to settle on the window sill. Like most folk on our road double glazing was yet to grace the façade of our humble abode.

Don't Worry, Yeah Right!

It's Friday, about 2.20pm and I just got as big a tirade of abuse from a client that I have ever had, I wouldn't mind but it's not even my fault! (Well it never is, is it?). I put the phone down and reach for the Ibuprofen, I've not been feeling well recently and my head is pounding.

I turn to my laptop, a few more emails in my inbox, all requiring "action". (I must have a word with Mr. Gates one day about those fearsome big red exclamation marks, standing upright and proud beside their message like an infuriated Sergeant Major delighting in his "High Importance"). I ignore them, I really can't be bothered.

For a moment I stare at the laptop, that bloody laptop. I loved it when I first got it with it's iridescent style, soft springy keys that seemed to caress your fingertips like a tender kiss on the cheek from your first real love; but now? I despise it, it follows me everywhere, and it enslaves me, demanding my attention, feeding on my aspiration for information, communication and social empowerment.