While paging through the local paper, People of the Southside I discovered a little ad for "over 35's who wish to join a soccer club". I diligently cut out the ad for my beloved and triumphantly presented it to him that evening. He made a phone call and discovered that practice takes place on a Tuesday evening and all was right with his world. Tuesday dawned and excitement built, first soccer practice since his New York days and his foot was itching to kick that ball. Map book scanned, directions ready and at 20h40 he was out the door. At 21h30 when I got a call from him I just knew that he had got lost, but alas I was wrong. He was asking me to open the gates as he was home (but practice finishes at 22h00?) I opened the gates and watched him hobble inside, dejected, first kick of the ball and his grass soccer shoes did not grip to well on the indoor surface and oops...down he goes! Sadly he has pulled his ligaments so we iced it, rubbed arnica cream on it, gave him some Ibuprofen and visited the doctor the very next morning. He will need a bit of physio and all should be okay, new shoes and back to soccer he shall go.
I know my rights
1 hour ago