The gambler who lives at the end of the road has got himself into a feud with the frowning old man who lives in a house opposite. Something to do with keeping his lights on at night. Frowning old man says it’s anti-social then seems to suggest that if we’d all followed Enoch Powell’s advice none of these sorts of issues would arise. The gambler – not usually lost for words – finds it hard to argue with this line of attack. Where do you begin? Instead he points to his shoes, which are new, and asks if I like them. The frowning old man frowns again.
After about two years of claiming “we are Leeds” whenever one of her little Gooner pals asked who she supported, my five year old daughter has now succumbed to the lure of glory. The double whammy of Arsenal’s title-winning run and Leeds’ relegation was too much for her. I have had to console myself with the idea that Arsenal are just her local village team.
“You can still support a big northern team as well, love.”
“Who’s a big northern team, Daddy?”
“What about Manchester United?”
“No, the rules say you can’t support both Man Utd and Arsenal.”
“Shall I support Leeds as well then, Daddy?”