Sod the Spurs

Sod the Spurs

Scene: The 0905 Virgin Trains service from Edinburgh Waverley to Bournemouth. My heart sinks as my hopes for a table seat to myself are dashed firstly by some loud, wittering woman, then by a mother and her hyperactive six-year-old son in an England football shirt. Ah well: Adopt, Adapt, Improve.

I ignored them as best I could, but soon found myself ear-wigging as shouty woman earnestly tried to strike up a conversation with the brat:

Wittering Woman, striking up a conversation: "So, d'you like football then?"

Kid: "Yeah."

WW: "Who's your favourite player then?"

Kid: "Owen."

WW: "Oh! Why's that? Don't you prefer Beckham or Rooney?"

Kid: "Newcastle."

WW: "So, you like Alan Shearer as well then?"

Kid: "S'pose. Retired."

WW: "I support Tottenham Hotspur. They're my favourite team. What d'you think of the Spurs?"

Kid: "Fuckin' wankers."

Kid's mum: "......!"

Self: "MWA HA HA HA HAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! ...sorry..."

By way of reward, I gave him my last Jaffa Cake.


It being World Cup week, the rest of this week's posting may or may not contain a football theme, which will, inevitably, result in the most enormous number of swears. Excellent!