How I loved playing football. I was reasonable, but had been injured for a long time on this particular occasion. I had moved down about eight leagues in standard to try and get back fit, on a Sunday morning league full of thugs, kickers and downright terrible players. On the plus side, I got a free Sunday dinner at the local club as payment for my services.
I settled down in those ridiculous all-in-one tracksuits as a sub, but got increasingly frustrated watching the rubbish served up in front of me, and so I walked off the pitch down to the local garage where I bought pop, crisps, chocolate, and a paper. I sat there on the bench perfectly unhappy, shaking my head periodically at what I witnessed and what injury had cost me, and reading the paper. And then it happened. The centre midfielder got injured and I was called for. Now I was no Paul Scholes in midfield, but I was significantly better than this rubbish. I sort of knew it was my time, that I would own that midfield and serve up goals, tackles, crucial passes and interceptions. The idiot manager wouldn’t dare leave me on the bench again. As it turned out, my lack of warming up meant I’d pulled my hamstring within ten minutes, given away a goal with a quite atrocious pass, thrown up into the bucket on the side of the pitch because I was full of crisps and chocolate, and got booked at the end of the game for for (what the Daily Mail would probably have attested was) a foul mouthed altercation with the referee, whom it turned out afterwards, I taught the daughter of.
I paid the manager my six pound fine, ate my Sunday dinner, and retired.
Slightly more successful at grabbing their big chance are Irish brothers Hudson Taylor. The two lads, Alfie and Harry, have been catching the attention of the great and the good with their Simon and Garfunkel-a-like harmony laden songs, and (probably unlike Simon and Garfunkel) high octane shows.
After playing a sold out show at Dingwalls, the boys played the Village Hall stage last Saturday at Hyde Park. However, after contracting a chest infection Tom Odell was unable to perform (probably much to the delight of the NME) and so the boys were thrust into the big time after impressing the promoters, opening for Jake Bugg and The Rolling Stones in front of 40k adoring fans.
They’ve uploaded a live track ‘Care’ shot backstage at the boys show in Leopardstown. More raw than their obvious Simon and Garfunkel influences, it’s folky but this sort of smart pop driven folk.
These boys are, thankfully, a long way off retiring.