Saturday, 9 June 2012

The Game

Mr Fudge and I had a deja vu moment this morning when we set out to watch our five year-old grandson play soccer.  It all came back in a rush, those early morning soccer games watching our own son play.

Apparently this is the smallest size made for our future stars and the seamstress in me had to be restrained from whipping it off him and taking around half a metre from the bottom and machine in the sides several hundred centimetres.  At least there's plenty of room to grow.

To keep the little ones from freezing to death pre-game, kicking practice was encouraged.

You had to admire our boy's style.

Ah youth - look at that energy.

Half time meant lashings of water melon and oranges.

Photo: Mr Fudge
The enthusiasm waned a little during the second half and there was time to dream of being a Roman Emperor.

Or make the Letter T.

Eventually it ended and the team got together to discuss the most important part of the game ...


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