As I child I used to be taken to White Hart Lane... that was proper football, with a heavy leather ball that soaked up the rain and became a projectile, and dubbined boots that could weight a diver down... A goal? Back to the centre spot to get going again, without group petting sessions... Brylcreemed forwards and a goalkeeper in a tweed flat cap - those were the days! (Why? Don't ask me, I just type this stuff...)
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Is it just us being miserable. Are the big city's showing their enthusiasm. What's happening where you live.
