I must be a proper disappointment
My dad was a professional referee until his career was ended by a 9 year old on my 9th birthday - he was tackled (although quite why we were playing football is beyond me) and dislocated his knee so badly that he ended up in hospital and had new ligaments and other bits... but that's an aside.

Clearly his passion is football, but in trying to instil that passion into me, he took me to many games where he was the ref. All I saw (and I vividly remember various grounds, but I never remember them being anything other than fruppin freezing) was a few thousand people who were shouting at my dad and calling him naughty words that I would get told off for. It didn't have the desired effect. I am now one of those weird blokes that prefers shoe shopping to football.

But it doesn't end there, he also tried to bring me up proper and took me to church every Sunday until I was 18. Roman Catholic church. As soon as I had a vague idea of what was going on (I was about 5 I think) I hated it. The same thing week after week after week. It didn't just bore me, it made me angry. To make matters worse, my dad (I do love him, he's awesome and he's my dad) was in the choir, so I had to sit with him in the choir. Let's just say that I reckon I can mime better than your average Cheryl 'violent racist who married a black dude who then cheated on her for being a racist' Cole or whoever's on that appalling tellyshow.

There was an occasion where he was in hospital (knee again I think) where I was old enough to go to church on my own, I went on my skateboard but only made it as far as the local school playground as it'd just been tarmacced. By the time I got home, my mum had had 3 phone calls to report that I wasn't there. arse.

So, I am a confirmed catholic - but I only found out what that means last year when Mrs Bovis and I were asked to be godparents, apparently I confirmed that I definitely believed in the shite... I don't really remember much about the whole thing to be honest, I was prolly thinking about boobs at the time.

When I turned 18, it was a Saturday. On the Sunday, my dad asked me if I was coming to church. I said no thanks and went back to bed. I am an atheist (unless you count what I said on the census... Jedi).

So, I'm an atheist, football-hating bloke. I imagine he is crushed.

On the plus side he did like to hear stories of girls I'd 'seen' when I was at uni - I think he lived vicariously through me at that point as he's only ever slept with my mum. I had a good education, I earn a very reasonable wage and I've got a gorgeous wife. I think he's actually quite proud... and a bit crushed.
(Ross McBingobangobongo bingobangobongo, Wed 1 Dec 2010, 14:20, 3 replies)

When you said
you was a boy who likes shoe shopping I thought you meant you was gay.
At least your dad cant hold that against you too.
( bane, Wed 1 Dec 2010, 14:30, closed)

I did think that when I wroted it
hence the line about the wife and the line about the girls what I have 'known'.

Having said that, my wife is quite proud of the fact that I have all the good aspects of being a gay whilst being entirely hetero. I'm comfortable with that.
(Ross McBingobangobongo bingobangobongo, Wed 1 Dec 2010, 14:41, closed)

I sort of thought that was why you added the wife line ...
A bit like the line from Planes ,trains and automobiles " See that bears game last week"....

www.youtube.com/watch?v=DExqgf96NZM
( bane, Thu 2 Dec 2010, 9:16, closed)