I've never stood on the sidelines of a football game before.
Nor have I ever felt shorter or more fragile. Giant men in their pads jog past me on all sides, shouting in growly tones, slamming fists to their chests. Throwing themselves into one another in an apparent attempt to excite themselves and their teammates.
I thought I would be an objective observer, but I find myself...invested in Gareth's former team winning the upcoming game. Mostly because they come over and greet him so warmly, group after group of men in pads, slapping Gareth on the shoulder and telling him they miss him on the field. In turn, Gareth claims he doesn't miss their "smelly-ass feet" in the locker room and everyone has a big laugh. I more or less hide behind his back during the first few meetings, but when ther
