Weekly football conversation since 2009, with Graham Sibley, Jan Bilton and Terry Duffelen. Listen on Apple, Google, Spotify, Stitcher, TuneIn or your podcatcher of choice.

Family Curse

A fable of metatarsals and gypsies

Corporal Rooney: Never get rich playing football my lad
Corporal Rooney: Never get rich playing football my lad
The Somme: Happier times
The Somme: Happier times
Liverpool Docks 2014 (artist's impression)
Liverpool Docks 2014 (artist's impression)
Liverpool Docks 1911: Corporal Henry Rooney of the 3rd Liverpool Head Beaters happens upon an old woman on an older jetty charging a fortune for a fortune.
Die trying
"Old Woman," says the Corporal. "What does the future hold for me?" The wrinkled crone takes his hand and peers through cataract clouded eyes. "Your love of the sporting arts will bear fruit in the form of a great bull of a man who will become rich and famous for playing football."

"Getting rich for playing Football!" scoffed Rooney. "I've never heard such rubbish. But never mind that - what of me? "

"You will die four years hence face down in the mud in some place called the Somme. That'll be sixpence please."

The Corporal was livid. "Curse you old trout!" he screamed kicking the woman's stool from beneath her. "You'll get nothing from me."
Laughing gear
The woman scrambled to her knees. Looking him up and down, his balding hair, bright red nose and pot bellied countenance, she pointed at his feet. "A hex sir..." she cried. "May your feet carry you to ruin for seven generations."

Corporal Rooney drew his sword, "I should run you through you toothless harlot." Then his face softened as an idea formed in his head. "On the other hand, while you're down there..." he said, unzipping his fly.

Liverpool Docks 2014: "Get out of here and stop harassing my customers," said the Wine Bar Manager as he tossed the drunk out into the street. "You may have been a big man once but you're nothing now."
The drunk pulled himself up to the curb-side, adjusting his eye-patch and prosthetic arm. In the street, people were making their way to Stanley Park to watch the World Cup on the giant holo-screen. With great difficulty he dragged his creaking body, aged beyond its years due to steroid abuse, upright and started to walk in the opposite direction. He used to love football... was pretty good at it too. Suddenly he felt a tiny snap in his left foot. "Oh no," he thought has he collapsed to the pavement. "Not again."

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