Goodbye Dreams

The oldest player ever to play in the Premier League was 43 years old.  It's time to let go of my dreams of ever becoming a top tier professional footballer.  I had so much promise - I remember one game of football in PE when I hit a pinpoint perfect 60 yard pass, and the PE teacher asked if I meant to do it.  Of course I did, and shame on you for not recognizing and nurturing my outrageous natural abilities (although this might have been the only time I ever displayed it, and I had the somewhat disadvantage of being the shortest boy in my year, what can be politely described as a less than average level of fitness, and the fact that I still had to wear glasses when playing).  This is the only school memory I have of playing football, and I didn't even play once for our school team.  All that potential went unfulfilled, and will have to remain unfulfilled.  I also have memories of playing kick-around in the park opposite where I grew up, using rugby posts as a goal and playing 1 on 1 with a friend who lived round the corner.  Sadly, the strongest memory I have of that time is of a You've Been Framed moment when I was walking backwards to retrieve a ball and fell ass over end into a ditch full of stinging nettles.  Now I'm thinking about it, I've also retrieved some even older football memories from the darker recesses of my mind - though with little context, which are hazy and probably misremembered.  Memory of a tournament that my team progressed quite far in (maybe with my cub scout troop?) that included a game that was played in a field full of cowpats, and landing face first into one of said cowpats.  And going to a training session featuring some star Spurs players of the time - notably Ossie Ardiles.  Curse my failing brain for not remembering that potentially memorable event, and not retaining any photos or keepsakes (not even an autograph) from it.