Last Saturday I made my return to football to play in goal for Custom House FC, in a performance that warranted such praise as “Well played”, “fuck me Dean only let one in!” and not to forget “we were desperate, that’s why he played”. This week I was again in the squad as players could not handle playing football with a drop of rain or two.
I wasn’t needed to go in goal as they had managed to get a semi pro keeper to turn up as he had a free afternoon, but we were lacking in defenders (we had to start with two centre backs who both had bad injuries and could barely run without grimacing) so with great reluctance Wayne put me on the bench.
Sadly I didn’t get to play, but at least I showed my intent and I got my subs back. 🙂
Despite not playing I was tired when I got home and fell asleep on the sofa, perhaps my brain had assumed I was going to play and had put in motion plans for me to be tired and could not put a stop to it when he (I assume my brain is a man) found out I wasn’t playing.
I had made plans to meet a friend, but as I had not heard from her in over a week I assumed we were not meeting, she had other ideas and when I did not turn up she came banging on my front door, it took me a few minutes to wake myself up and we went for a couple of drinks before I had to say goodbye and get home before my dad was driven back from the hospital.
The first thing she said to me when she saw me was “wow, you’ve got really fat!” Which I hope is not what people are planning on replacing “hello” with.
On the way home I walked past the drug dealer’s flat when I noticed their dogs had got out of their front garden and were running around in the road and narrowly avoided being run over. I tried to get the attention of the owners, but the smell of weed wafting out of their open door led me to believe they were had other things on their minds. I managed to gather up the two dogs and locked the gate again. The owners will never know how close their dogs came to death until this hero came walking past.