Scratching my balls this morning, scrolling through the bollocks that is Facebook I came across a football post. To be more precise, a reminisce of Notts County.
For those who have met me, or somewhat surprisingly have become my friend on Facebook and neither of us know how the fuck this actually happened, you will know that Notts County are more than a football team to me. If you are in any doubt, then please read Love: it’s more than just a game.
Anyway, the YouTube clip reminded me that a tad over thirty years ago, on 18th January 1991, we played the giants of world football, Manchester United, in the top flight at Meadow Lane, Nottingham, when the Reds were lucky to come away with a draw. Today we are in the fifth tier of English football and can’t claim to be the oldest football league club in the world since we are now a non-league team.
So, what was my life like on that particular day?
Well, I wasn’t scrolling on Faecesbook as this hadn’t been invented. Nor had YouTube.
But, more than likely, I was scratching my balls.
Lucy was only 5-months old, and Adam hadn’t even been thought about.
I had a lush bonce and a silly moustache as this was required to be a cop in those days. This wasn’t, as I recall, gender specific either.
Today I handed over some of my speedway memorabilia to the Oxford Museum. After signing the requisite forms, I felt a tad ancient and wondered what I would be doing in another thirty years, aged 88?
Then I smiled, as I knew for sure of one thing I would be doing!
Oh, to be blessed with balls!
© Ian Kirke 2021 and all uncredited photographs.
Title photograph Google open source images