My Aunt and wee Scottish Granny persuaded me to go and watch a neighbour’s ten-year-old son’s football tournament. Of course I had absolutely no issue watching the match, I just didn’t want to go with two crazy ladies. Anything that involves Granny, my Aunt and a crowd inevitably means that I have to stay behind to apologise.
To delay the potential trauma I arrived later than everyone else under the pretense that I had some very very veryyyy important things to do first. On arrival I walked across the playing field and out of the corner of my eye I saw two red-faced, screaming women jumping up and down… One was a midget that I recognised to be Granny, the normal-sized one was my Aunt – both looked like they had been dipped in a bucket of sweat.
I swallowed hard, turned quickly and tried to escape. I knew I’d been caught when I heard my name being screamed from across the park – You know that feeling when you can hear a pin drop, suddenly a million eyes face your direction and you just want to die? I cried a little inside, made a mental note to get them back at some point and made my way over.
After a quick run-down on the previous matches I was told that our lad was in the final. By this time my Aunt was so hysterical she was losing her voice and the excited shrill coming from her mouth could only be understood by dolphins. Granny had found some much needed shade and was perched on a chair sucking oranges meant for the kids.
When the final started Aunty was jumping up and down screaming whilst looking at me shouting, “I am saying the right thing aren’t I?”… I was too busy trying to dig myself a hole in the ground. Granny was loudly chanting, “come on you reds” and I’m sure the poor kids were missing every pass because they were too busy looking at the frenzied, fanatical females.
Twice they had to be told to get off the pitch and more than once I glanced at the boy we were supporting to mouth the word ‘sorry’. As it turned out our guy didn’t win. Granny and Aunt nearly hyperventilated and I had to promise my neighbour’s son that we’d never go to watch him play football again.