I always find it kind of funny. We used to live in the flats around the corner but we share the back wall. So when we moved I could just pass stuff over the back wall rather than taking it all the way round the street way, and round the corner. Worked for most stuff, maybe not the bed.
Still a good neighbourhood, the wee man kicked his ball over the back wall. It was there for about a week and I was saying to him that we need to try and catch someone out the back there because they won’t know whose ball it is or where to send it to.
Two days later the ball is back in the garden.
Nice.
To be fair, they must have heard him kicking the ball off the hut at the bottom of the garden. I’ll be sitting inside doing some work and all you hear is
BOOM. BOOM.
And he is wrapping it off the hut from 15 yards.
For someone who swears that he does not like football. He sure has some football skills.
Rainbow flicks.
Nutmegs.
Power shots and placement.
Season ticket holder since he was 5 at the local team.
You ask him if he likes football.
No.
