To Dare Is To Do

Each day presents a new problem.
Working at the PC, the boss walks through, and I get like a kid in the 5th form, waiting to be tapped on the shoulder to be told I’m naughty and I’ve done it wrong!
I keep forgetting I’m 750 years old and I’m not an idiot, but let me tell you everyday presents a new learning curve.
Still in my infancy.
Today we talked about abortions, many of you phoned in even though it was such a sensitive topic. Thank you.
Then we talked about Ed Balls and cookery in schools.
As usual, you listeners kept the topic afloat.
It was very good.

I arrived home, ate some left over vegetables then took my old editor out for a drink.
We went to the Woodman pub, just off Battersea Square.
The conversation roamed hither and thither; three glasses of red wine and 2 bowls of chips later my companion left and I slipped on my coat to leave
BUT
The big screen had been lowered for the Spurs-Arsenal game. I had nothing to go back to the flat for. I had left my telephone on my desk and my roomies were there to let me in so I settled back in a wooden chair to watch the North London Derby.
3 ‘Gooners’ in front of me, four ‘Yids’ behind and I was ready for battle.
JO, a hocky playing, Man U. season-ticket-holding investment banker sat behind me and taught me how to watch the game, explained who did what and reminded me that even though she wanted Tottenham to win, when Man U play us on Saturday she wants us to be buried alive.
I whooped when we scored, bit my lip when the Gooners leered and cheered as one goal after another slipped into the net.
The score 5-1 to us.
Look I am a Tottenham Hotspurs supporter by dint of birth and male relatives, tonight though, I think I was finally christened into the beautiful game.
Being partisan is part of the fun, wanting your team to win. Watching those lads sprinting up and down a BIG playing field, kicking a ball about and displaying their skill was a fantastic way to spend a Tuesday night.
I jogged back to the flat. My first run for weeks. Immediately called Jim whose first words were;
‘Well done.’
I hadn’t done anything but my ‘boys’ had…
I called Bee, who will have to keep dead quiet as her beau is an Arsenal man, then I called my nephew Dan who is getting me tickets for Wembly for the Everton or Chelsea game.
Don’t worry I am not turning into a mindless idiot, but for one night only I am a member of Ramos’s army and I love it.
I have no intention of talking tactics or fixtures but I will go to sleep tonight with a big grin on my face as I re-live that 5th goal.
COME ON YOU SPU-URS!
sorry……