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Trampled Underfoot September 16, 2002 This weekend was dominated by football. Don't get me wrong, I really like football, but sometimes in our house I wonder if there is anything else going on in the world at all. The talk seems to be of nothing else, ever. Only AM is not obsessed by it-instead she's only interested in the state of her hair and her love-life. On Saturday TBG and I went to see our local team play. They don't even have their own ground-we had to go to the neighbouring town, whose ground they borrow. It was a rather dull game which only got exciting in the last 5 minutes when the opposing team got a dubious penalty, which was saved by the home goalkeeper to a deafening roar of approval from the crowd (if you can call one man and his dog a crowd!). No I'm being unkind-there must have been about 300 there really. On Sunday my team were in action against their local rivals. TBG and I went to the pub to watch it. Again the opposing team got a penalty in the dying seconds but this time they scored it. It was lucky I'd had so much to drink by this time that I hardly cared.
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