Yes, I know the correct term in Australia these days is probably football, not soccer.
But after forty years of calling it soccer, I’ve become a little set in my ways.
A bit like my granny, really, who never converted to decimal currency.
Most of my childhood conversations with granny revolved around converting between dollars and cents and pounds, shillings and pence.
Even now I can do the calculations in my head reasonably quickly.
But that’s not what today was about. Today was about travelling to Valentine Park in Western Sydney to watch 702 United play Tokyo Bay in the World Masters Games.
Even though I’m not a sports fan, I found the day reasonably enjoyable. The match ended up a nil-all draw, even though the 702 team were, in my view, the team. That said, Tokyo Bay were good at defence, and I guess that explains the results.
Highlights of the day included a couple of overheard conversations…
“What would you expect to me be like? I’m forty-F%^&*-ing years old…” and…
“Water, water I need water…” one player was forever asking for water from the sideline.
“That’s exactly how I feel”, said a colleague of mine who was a little hung-over from the night before.