The Silver Vixen came along, as cheer-leader, to watch us play walking football again. To be fair she didn't have pom-poms, a crop-top, tight silky shorts, or knee-high white boots. The Gorse Fox expects that she is saving these for a more competitive game rather than a friendly.
There were not so many of us this week - so we only manages 4-a-side. The Gorse Fox was on the end of a significant tonking (to use a technical phrase). In fact he hasn't lost at anything quite so convincingly since playing for Barnet College in the late 1960s. He did manage to score a few goals, and save a few, but for every one his team scored, the other team seemed to score three or four. This was not so good, but he is convinced that once his general level of fitness returns such events will not recur.
Talking of disappointing performances - the Gorse Fox couldn't help but think that even the walking football team (all over 60) would have given Spurs a run for their money today. Ok, they won 2-1 at Aston Villa, but it was an embarrassing display. It reminded me of watching your father let loose at a disco. No idea, no rhythm, and utterly embarrassing.
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