Best Cross Ever
I'm not a good footballer. I like football, but the only thing I've got going for me is a fairly handy left foot, inherited from my (much more skilled) Dad.

Despite a lack of skill, I occasionally turned out for the third or fourth string eleven at university, usually to make up the numbers. So I wound up being invited to play in a "Leavers vs Non-Leavers" muck about game the year I left.

Whilst having the inevitable knock-about beforehand, one of the balls we were practising with came out to me on the right. A good mate was standing at about the penalty spot, with his back to me receiving a pass from the other side. Without really thinking I launched a firm left footed in-swinger for him to head, oblivious to him looking the other way. Then I called hs name.

The timing was perfect. He turned and caught my somewhat out-of-character decent delivery full in the chops, going down like a mighty oak. Fortunately the damage wasn't that bad because he sprang up shortly after, and wiping away a small amount of blood from his nose, he managed to trot over to me and give me one of the sternest bollockings I've ever had from a mate as I tried to stifle any laughter.

Once the match was on, he soon saw the funny side, and took every opportunity to remind me what I'd done. He still does, when I see him, and the sound of that ball connecting with his mush is firmly etched in mind.
( milkybarnick is calming down Boris on, Thu 21 Jan 2010, 20:02, 1 reply)

A handy left foot?
You should see a doctor
(thefuckestuppest cheapened this, on, Fri 22 Jan 2010, 14:35, closed)