ALL BECAUSE OF YOU
That’s ma boy, playin’ mid-field in the Number Ten shirt. Doesn’ he look the part? He’s got the Muir legs. Football player’s legs. Strong calves. I always knew he’d be guid at football. He was kickin’ a ball before his little feet had even touched the ground. His mother used tae complain it hurt her ribs.
Look at the way he got that ball an’ made it his. Did ye see him thread it wi’ the side o’ his foot between those two defenders? I taught him that. Inch perfect, straight intae the stride o’ his team mate, Marcello.
Great pass Fergus!
That’s a shame. Marcello’s over-hit the ball well past the touchline.
His dad’ll no be happy. He’s that stocky guy wi’ the baldy-heid, standing by that clump o’ trees near the club-house. Lovely man, Frank. Second-generation Italian.
