Footballs coming home, its coming home, its coming...
Think back to 1996, as the Major government was nibbled to threads by mad cows to a soundtrack of blur and oasis. The country had gone football mad and for a brief crazy moment it appeared that England might actually win euro ’96. Now picture if you will against this backdrop, a tale of having it all and losing it all to your own hubris.

At school I was a nerdy geek who hated sport, but like every other boy and his dog I got caught up in the craze of premiership football stickers. Knowing just shy of fuck all about the sport actually is an advantage to this. As you are unprejudiced by fandom/hero worship, you can put your geek skills of OCD collecting towards building up a collection.

I took to it like a duck to water; cool kids who normally wouldn’t give me the time of day were willing to spend whole lunchtimes discussing swaps. I spent all my pocket money on those stickers. Soon I was able to trade with such skill that soon I was brokering deals and acting as an intermediary for other people’s deals with the efficiency of a banker.

What kept me collecting was the business side of swapping the cards. The bigger boys were just in it to fill their sticker albums. One Friday I was asked “where’s your album willenium? You must have filled it by now”. I had nearly every sticker and was keeping them in an old pencil tin. The album cost more than my weekly pocket money at the time, and my parents refused to lend me any (thanks for the lesson in avoiding debt dad, how were you to know that university tuition fees would be introduced 12 months later).

The following Monday I returned to face the popular kids carrying with me a ring binder.
“you know how you were asking after my sticker collection? Well I made my own album”

Over the course of the weekend I had stuck my collection to A4 paper. Not knowing anything about football teams I had organised them alphabetically. Like a file-o-fax
After four seconds of slack jawed amazement “ BWHAHAHAHA you sad tosser”
“don’t know anything about football you gayer*”
“why cant you afford the album you pikey?”

All my street cred was lost in an instant and I was shunned once more, to stand alone and reflect on loosing it all. I vowed never to get into a fad again for the sake of my individuality. But then they started putting prizes in crisps...

*not running around with other men in pursuit of a ball raises the possibility of homosexuality, not caring about when overpaid people do this confirms it –article vii of the playground code
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Fri 16 Jan 2009, 13:49, 2 replies)

ouch
but balls to the footballers!
(tweebianmonkey Should be known as Widget, Fri 16 Jan 2009, 14:33, closed)

footballs crap
long live the gayers!
(imallamallama looking forward to llamageddon on, Fri 16 Jan 2009, 22:10, closed)