I’ve been football mad all of my life.
When I was a kid, I traveled hundreds of miles every week and visited the outer reaches of Great Britain in freezing cold rain to watch my team. I heard accents from parts of England that I can still replicate to this day and visited places that I have never returned to and probably have no great desire to return to. The northern most parts of England near the borderlands of Scotland are still pretty uninviting.
So here I was in possession of a fabulous ticket to the last great game of the European season. It is a season that stretches from the balmy days of summer through the late spring and lasts longer than any of the great American sports. Actually, it is a season that never really ends because somewhere on the planet, somebody is always playing football, not to mention European Championships and World Cups every other year.