Spectator

A lovely day for a bit of midday soccer. A stroll in the park. I could have written the script. We competed pretty well for 25 minutes and indeed looked like the better team for most of that time. But then our defence was undone with ease by a simple one-two, and a 'clinical' finish was supplied by Sinclair. If our forwards were clinicians, I suspect their favoured utensils would be a stone chisel and mash hammer. For once I left early - having watched five goals I felt I'd got my money's worth. As did the sidekick who'd borrowed AJ's ticket.
The laddie on the touchline is our manager, Cathro.
Back to sit out in the sun, reading the papers and spectating beans being shelled while having a teeny Limekilns beer. Much more entertaining.