MrT

Over to Brunswick St to the Ink Market where Wendy was running one of her occasional stalls. Here’s MrT who was left in charge awhile trying to drum up some interest in their wares. 
The whole day of course was really just a prelude to the great event - England’s first appearance at a major final for 55 years. I should be clear that I’m talking football. And some commentators even felt the need to specify that it was men’s football. Times change, eh?
So, I cracked open the London Pride as we settled to watch and blimey, were England not ahead within two minutes. And actually Italy looked second best for most of the first half, and well knocked out their stride. But of course, they weren’t really second best, and slowly the English forwards were snuffed out and the pressure was turned up. But even then, England managed to hang on for penalties, which characteristically they fluffed, despite Pickford's heroics in saving two of the Italian kicks. Ach well, the better team won, and besides how could England win when they could only manage a draw with Scotland?