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humper dreams 

How many waistcoats does gareth south have?

6/13/2018

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Hello there, 
My name is Humper and I have some interest in football. I bleed amber and chocolate in my lifelong support of Sutton United, over land and sea, though mostly land I admit. And by land I mean specifically Gander Green Lane. And by lifelong, I don’t mean my life. I mean the life of anyone born around December 2016. Still, how Craig Dundas has not made any of the World Cup squads is entirely beyond me.

So, as the 2018 tournament looms larger than Gareth Southgate’s waistcoat collection, I decided/was coerced into collating a few thoughts re: the football. I doubt they’ll assist your betting; I doubt you’ll be glad you’ve read them, but I hope they stay with you for reasons that perhaps even you won’t understand. Come and join me as I explain...
When I think of the World Cup, or la Coupe de Monde as they say on the continent, I think of Michael Owen gliding past panicked Argentinians. I think of Brazilians crying in the face of a 7-1 German blitzkrieg. I think of special aluminium bottles of Budweiser positioned prominently in supermarkets, mmm tastytasty.

My most tangible Russia 2018 buzz stemmed from the recent FIFA 18 World Cup update. It has served as delightful foreplay before the all-consuming orgasm of the tournament itself. And if my performance as Panama are anything to go by, England in for a life a death struggle against the nation more renowned for its appearance in one of the great palindromes than for its football prowess.

I’m also going to Germany in a few weeks and it just so happens it coincides with one of their games, which is nice. A few pilseners and some classic German bantz is will no doubt form the perfect storm of World Cup memories. In fact I’ve just realised I’m going to Germany twice during the tournament so the chances of me doing a Klinsmann along the bar has just doubled #odds #betting. Double-wunderbar!

Finally, there’s the old sweepstake malarkey. I’m running one with my class, in the name of charity of course. The sporty kids are brimming with excitement; the nerdier ones look more lost than Ashley young at left-back. HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA #footballsatire Come Monday, Chess club announcements, house point tallies and the school nurse appointment sheet on the noticeboard in my classroom will be lost beneath the vast expanse of a gleaming wobbly wallchart. Competition to be the student elected to fill it in will be fierce as any Russian hooliganism.

So there they are, my musings. Who knows what will be in store next time, if indeed there is a next time.
​
Keep it real,
Humper  ​
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    Author

    Name: Will Humphries
    Age: 27, and counting
    Occupation: Teacher
    Action: Right arm over
    Guilty pleasure: Carling
    Hero: Murakami

    I used to love football. I used to get excited about purchasing two season old Sunderland away strips in JJB sports when I was a kid. I played Football Manager relentlessly; Anthony Vanden Borre was my virtual hero. 

    But the magic has gone. I cling desperately to my 90s/00s obscure football knowledge even though boxing, books and booze have replaced Boksic, the Bernabeu and Borthwick-Jackson. 

    Besides a recent love affair with my local Sutton United, only dying embers of my passion remain. Will this World Cup reignite them into a blaze of footballing fervour? Or will the ash settle in Russia, for the very last time.

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