So I received a parcel today from my old mate Shay containing this…
It’s the match programme from the England v Sweden game played at Wembley in May 1968. Shay knows that I’m a fan of Sir Bobby Charlton who played a big part in this game, scoring one of his trademark screamer goals. It’s from his own collection of course and a really nice gesture. He’d like me to pass it on to my grandsons here as they are big footie fans. They may be surprised to learn that one of England’s greatest ever players had a comb-over to rival the lead guy in George and Mildred. It’s not very Pogbaesque but can Pogba score goals like this…
Many thanks mate
Here’s the thing; I’ve had cause recently to wonder about the nature of friendship. I thought we were rock-solid in this regard with a decent number of truly great friends. I wouldn’t say we were the sort of people to collect a huge circle of mates but over 30+years we had formed some very strong relationships, some very deep and loving. But stuff happens and sometimes things get loose-wired or even disconnected. It can cause a lot of hurt but things also work in the opposite direction.
My old friend MR called last night to wish us all a happy Xmas. It’s a tradition we’ve had for years, ever since M and I worked together at Cellnet, back in the Middle Ages. We’ve always got on well and it was good to chat, especially as we haven’t been in touch for a while. M is also a late convert to cooking and I was pleased to learn that he’d been sweating over a hot stove and cold beer or two, most of the day. Continue reading
For the last few years of my BT career I worked alongside a great young guy, another Paul, Paul S. He and I were chalk and cheese: he was young, slim, fresh-faced and always smiling and I was this fat, bald, old, grizzled dinosaur. We were often mistaken for twins. But we worked harmoniously and were a good team, always looking for another challenge in our specialist areas of sponsorship and hospitality, two things BT did pretty badly before we made sense of the whole structure. Paul and Paul, Do-it-All was our composite nickname. Continue reading