I’m at the age where my mind says I can still do that Then my body giggles and says try it and die fat boy. I was living in Portugal at the time, and my youngest child was coming up six months old. Monday 25th May was for all intents and purposes a normal working day; no Spring Bank Holiday for the Portuguese. It was around this time (1998) that I had started enjoying regular lunchtime sessions – usually with suppliers – and almost certainly on a Friday when the work was done. There was no reason at all to have a drink on a Monday afternoon… except that Sunderland was playing football.
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Taking the afternoon off work and enjoying the spectacle of your team playing at Wembley clearly wasn’t ‘special’ enough for me. I needed to get trashed, at home, alone, and on a ‘normal’ Monday afternoon! Looking back, I can now see that it wasn’t particularly ‘responsible’… but it felt normal at the time! Because I’m at the age where my mind says can still do that. My granddad introduced me to Sunderland as a four-year-old; I’ve been to games almost every season since I was seven.


Living abroad for many years didn’t stop me going either; regularly flying back to see a game whenever possible, however at some point, the drinking extravaganza became more important, than the football itself. I don’t really know how, or when, it happened… but looking back, it clearly did! Only a month earlier, I’d flown back to watch the Millwall semi-final at Old Trafford, and decided to alight the train at Stafford in search of more cans. I had loads of time, [I thought] but too long spent drinking in the park resulted in two [passing] Everton fans, having to drive me to Manchester so that I didn’t miss the kick-off!
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