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A Swan Among the Magpies
A clout on the head leads to friendship
It is remarkable how football has changed in my lifetime, both on the field and in the stands (if stands is the correct term for a stadium made up entirely of seats). There is a general feeling that today’s game is infested by overpaid Fancy Dans, who perform with little passion to a comfortably seated audience.
Meanwhile, in a TV studio, pundits toggle images to determine whether or not a player was offside. This can be done to such a minute degree, it could emerge that a goal would have stood, had the scorer clipped his fingernails that morning.
Of course, I exaggerate, but this is the modern game, and it is a world away from the true-grit football and prehistoric facilities of my adolescence, when it was as much Jurrassic Park as St James’. Anyone who remembers tackling the flint-hewn pies, and the river of urine that had to be plodged through to get to what were laughingly called toilets will know what I mean.
A Fruitcake on the Field of Play
Yet while most of the changes within the game have been for the better, there is a down side. The heavy increase in ground security has resulted in the demise of that much loved performer, the fruitcake on the field of play.
