GOOD SPORTS

The first sports team I was involved in was when I was about 6 years old.
The sport was rugby league.
The team was Marist.
The place was Wellington.
The coach was Colin O'Neil, one of the greats of Kiwi rugby league.

In my very first game, after a ruck (well, just a jumble of little kids who all fell over at the same time) I emerged and, with ball in hand ran for the try line and scored under the posts.

I kind of looked like this:

But really felt like this:

Job done and wait for the applause.

None was forthcoming because I'd run the wrong way and 'scored' under my own posts.

Bummer.

I was reminded of that today when I went to my first English football game (soccer) at the local York grounds.
The home team were playing some out of town bastards who had the effrontery to come to York to challenge 'our lads'.
I rode my bike to the venue and looked for the entrance. I espied a barrier of police vehicles and police in combat gear so knew that I'd found it. I asked a constable if I was at the right place and she said:

 "Aye lad, t' gate's o'er there. Are you home or away?"

"Whaa?" I replied. " I'm from New Zealand"

"Then you're a York supporter" she said with a smile and directed me to a gate.

I locked up my bike and went through the toll gate expecting to pay £18 as per the advertised tariff.
The attendant said "Pensioner?".
I immediately replied "for sure" and removed my cap to prove my decrepitude by the evidence of my remaining few grey hairs.
"12 quid" he said which pleased me and I headed off to the terraces behind the goal posts.

The game had already started and was 15 minutes in with no score.
I found a good spot to stand and within minutes a team in white strip came bearing down on the goal. There was a bit of a a fumble and the goalie couldn't stop the ball gently bouncing into the goal.
Result!

I cheered and clapped.

It took a nano second for me to realise that I was the only one there cheering and clapping.

Looking around my fellow spectators looked like this:

Mmmm, I thought.

Yorkshire's emblem is the Yorkshire rose which looks like this:

White right?

On the pitch there were two teams, one in white and the other in red,

I assumed that Yorkshire City was the team in white. Right?

Wrong.

They were the jokers in red.

After another 25 minutes of play, 15 minutes of interval and 15 minutes of the second half with me feeling isolated, York City equalised and I was able to clap and cheer for the 'right' team.
My neighbours seemed to thaw out a bit and, when York City secured the match with another goal appeared quite friendly at last.

I wasn't bothered as I had to make a fast getaway anyway to see a real football game, albeit on TV live - New Zealand vs South Africa. I cocked up my timing and arrived home at the interval. New Zealand down to South Africa!
Disaster?
Could have been and I still have raw memories of seeing NZ lose to South Africa in the final when I was in South Africa in 1995.
Still, a nail-biting second half saw our guys beat those Yarpie bastards.......

Hold on, with that attitude am I any better than these guys?

Sport huh!

Still we won.

Go the AB's!