Titch threw a massive strop after the game. I mean really, I were only ribbing the lad, you know a bit of banter. Anyway I’m sure he’ll be back once he’s cooled off. I’ll get him some of his favourite food for when he gets back to the bus. Should smooth things over nicely.
Postie.
Awoke to the sound of ringing in my ears this morning. At first I thought I’d caught tinnitus from Titch until I realised it was The Big Red Phone. A Coca-Cola representative had a fresh challenge for Titch and myself.
Bring rivals together through their love of the World Cup he said. Not a problem padre. Considering that Titch is only seven degrees separated from every nation appearing in the tournament I knew we would be able to persuade his countrymen to join us in a little challenge. And what better way to bring the fans together than a good old kickabout.
By mid day the wheels were in full motion. Titch had tugged enough knobs, pulled enough strings and sold enough possessions to construct the perfect stadium for our little grudge match. The recruitment flyers had been sent around town and in no time we had a healthy queue of hopefuls at the gates. We were in business.
I led the England team whilst Titch Captained Spain. (He wanted a team of Mexicans but I think they had all already left Stuttgart). Game on!
Postie.
