Today I dusted off my football boots and made my return to the pitch playing in goal for Custom House FC, the manager had been scrambling around all morning for a goalkeeper and had had no luck so asked me to step in as a last resort. He must have been incredibly desperate because I’ve only played in goal once or twice before and didn’t do that well.
We went on to the win the game 8-1 and despite letting in an early goal I did a rather solid job and it was not long before I started thinking to myself that I might give it one more year and then hang the boots back up (I might have to burn them and get every sports store in the country to ban me) for good. While I was on the bus home I came to the realisation that I will probably be trying to play football when I’m well into my 40s, there are many wrestlers who say they will not retire and will die in the ring, I think I might be doing that, but on a pitch. Maybe then I would finally get to be a winger like I’ve always fancied being, after all who can catch a ghost? Apart from The Ghostbuster, but I think they will be busy doing movies in America.
I dashed home, had a quick shower and change of clothes, and then dashed out to meet a friend in Mile End for a drink, after the game I was having second thoughts about going to the pub, but I thought it would be unfair to cancel about an hour before I was due to met him. He saw how tired I was and after a couple of drinks we parted way, I like that to think he did it because he saw how tired I was, although he might have had something more important to do, like the washing up.