As I was returning home from one of my walks I noticed this soccer match taking place at a local high school.

Of course, I’m British and I have to call it soccer rather than what the rest of the world calls it: football. This is because in the US they have a very popular sport (the Superbowl was just yesterday), which is called football. Now I know very little about American football. I’m not knocking the sport; I just don’t understand it. I know a number of Americans who don’t seem to understand soccer either (don’t get me started on cricket. I’ve tried to explain cricket to Americans, but very soon their eyes start to glaze over – can’t say I blame them). I watched about five minutes of yesterday’s Superbowl and then left because I couldn’t figure out what was going on. One thing I do know though is that they almost never use their feet to kick the ball.

As I was walking past someone kicked the ball over the fence. I heard a voice, and it was one of the players asking me to throw it back. I dutifully picked up the ball, carried it across the street and threw it back over the fence. The boy picked it up and ran off – not a word of thanks. Ah, the youth of today. I think I’ve become a grumpy old man. Actually I know I have. There’s a line in the musical, “Ragtime”, which reads:

Grandfather had been a professor of Greek and Latin. Now retired and living with his daughter and her family, he was thoroughly irritated by everything.

Sounds a lot like me.

Taken with a Panasonic Lumix GX85 and Panasonic Lumix 20mm f1.7