And so it is.... four years on from Brazil, and it's that time again. Hope, false hope, failure, Brazilian over-indulgence, German efficiency and downright hilarious haircuts.
So much of the World Cup experience is a rinse, wash, repeat experience... albeit extremely enjoyable. This one feels a little different though, for another fantastic reason. Sure, 2014 was a year in which I was responsible for a small human, but at age 3, Andrew was a mere passenger in the experience.
Fast forward four years, I now have 3 brilliant boys in the Crossling stable, and have just finished a 45 minute stint on the pavement of a car park at the local pharmacy watching my two older boys feverishly trading their Panini world cup stickers.... yes, delirium at the sight of that hard to find stadium, and downright Del Boy-tastic horse-trading the value of a shiny for a collection of random Saudi Arabia and Iranian players. (the going rate appears to be 5 players btw).
Yes, it's official. I will be 'dadding' this world cup. And I couldn't be happier! Sure, the kids have watched my weekly misery at watching my beloved Everton being "managed" by England's most successful post-war manager (100% record remember!), so they have been somewhat infused with football, but I can happily report their love of the game has grown organically, and they can't get enough. They're playing every chance they get and with the heavenly delivery of said Panini album from a family friend (Peruvian btw - that will be another post - they're excited!) for Ryan's 5th birthday, these boys are ALL IN on the WC.
How many times I get to attend to this blog with my increasing fatherly responsibilities remains to be seen. But it's great to be back, I sense a sniff of Brazilian redemption is in the air and echo Birchy's call on the England squad.... it's almost likable.
PS.... for that final world cup staple...an early contender:
So much of the World Cup experience is a rinse, wash, repeat experience... albeit extremely enjoyable. This one feels a little different though, for another fantastic reason. Sure, 2014 was a year in which I was responsible for a small human, but at age 3, Andrew was a mere passenger in the experience.
Fast forward four years, I now have 3 brilliant boys in the Crossling stable, and have just finished a 45 minute stint on the pavement of a car park at the local pharmacy watching my two older boys feverishly trading their Panini world cup stickers.... yes, delirium at the sight of that hard to find stadium, and downright Del Boy-tastic horse-trading the value of a shiny for a collection of random Saudi Arabia and Iranian players. (the going rate appears to be 5 players btw).
Yes, it's official. I will be 'dadding' this world cup. And I couldn't be happier! Sure, the kids have watched my weekly misery at watching my beloved Everton being "managed" by England's most successful post-war manager (100% record remember!), so they have been somewhat infused with football, but I can happily report their love of the game has grown organically, and they can't get enough. They're playing every chance they get and with the heavenly delivery of said Panini album from a family friend (Peruvian btw - that will be another post - they're excited!) for Ryan's 5th birthday, these boys are ALL IN on the WC.
How many times I get to attend to this blog with my increasing fatherly responsibilities remains to be seen. But it's great to be back, I sense a sniff of Brazilian redemption is in the air and echo Birchy's call on the England squad.... it's almost likable.
PS.... for that final world cup staple...an early contender:
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