Part 4


A person has plenty of time to think about things when they are clamped in the front seat space of a mega bus heading to Newcastle. It’s early in the morning, too early to be jovial with passengers who either stare at you and pretend they aren’t, or a driver who doesn’t know how to put you and your wheelchair in the wheelchair space so he just keeps tutting. I CAN HEAR HIM!

I’m sat here wearing more restraints than a law abiding citezen should expect. I mean seriously, if the dude tells me the safeword he can have it and we’ll all go home.

In the days since the last blog, England yobbishness made the headlines and people have become genuinely worried about Wales beating us. England should have got the job done in their opening match, it’s still hilarious to me that they didn’t. They have impressive and exciting players, perhaps against Wales Woy will let them do their thing (or at least bring them off the bench soon enough for them to rescue us).

Life is about goals, having then and reaching them so here are mine ahead of the game with Wales;

Marcus Rashford continues to rule the world.

Vardy gets given a chance. He will score

I still really want Stirling and Hart to play abysmally, they are Liverpool and City players after all… I’m only human and the journey is long. I know I know, yay England… we all love everyone in the summer don’t we?
My mind wanders…. what if Bale scores a hatrick against England and each goal is the fault of some ABU half wit like Hart. I’d allow myself a smile.

It turns out that not everyone is as confident in Wales’ ability to beat England as some in England are. Taffinoski is somewhere in a pub in North Yorkshire, he’s there like a cornflake in a bowl of rice krispies, the only Welshman amongst the English … I can only imagine the horror / joy that will come from his experience of this match.

You, dear reader, don’t have to imagine. I’m on a Metro heading for toon but I can still find a pub before kick off … Taff takes up the rest of the story

I’m already nervous and my prediction was a 2-0 defeat, something which I was trying to mentally prepare for. I was advised not to wear my lucky retro Wales top, this was not going to bode well! A certain defeat was in the offing.

I arrive at the pub an hour before kick off, plenty of time to get a few drinks down and enjoy some banter with friends, some that I hadn’t seen for a while. Everyone was in good spirits as the pub become more and more full. I was rather surprised at the lack of songs being sung by the English fans and I did my best to keep my nationality to myself for the time being.

My friends, a lovely bunch, had kindly spread the word to other patrons that I was Welsh! Cue a few sheep sounds and some light abuse about Wales in general. My retort? I reminded them that I was in Yorkshire and that they were also fond of sheep. 


Author: The Editor

I write words about things I care about and hopefully you'll care about them too when I'm done.

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