I’ve run out of salutations full of cliche, so I shall just say hello!
Tis my 32nd birthday today, I write this particular entry in the warm confines of my bedroom having spent the morning mooching around the house and chatting to Mum who has been making a royal fuss. I endured the uncomfortable sensation of opening up my birthday cards (I’ve had a strange phobia of them since I was a small child) but thoroughly appreciated the warm gestures from within them; cash is always welcome. ::hint hint, nudge nudge, cockney shuffle::
So what to do today? Well, it’s a Sunday, and Sunday’s are generally a bit rubbish aren’t they? So I’ve stocked up on films and intend to just chill out in between the occasional visit by family and friends.
I’ve literally just watched ‘Looking for Eric‘ and I honestly could not have watched something more uplifting and appropriate. It’s gritty, funny, a fantastic social commentary of modern day Manchester and heartily recommend it; even if you aren’t a fan of football. I’d liken it to an amateur version of ‘Harvey’ crossed with ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ but suspect Baldie would smack my face with a glove when I next see him. Ooops, too late, I already have.
Eric Cantona is the player I tend to think of most when I recall the many games Dad took me to, he was by far and most Dad’s favourite player and will forever more represent all the gushy and slushy memories that I hold of the old man.
To see this film today was perfect because it reminded me of when my idol met his idol for the upteenth time at a beach football competition in Richmond; was the only time Dad had ever let me pay for the tickets and we met Eric having sneaked into the V.I.P. area (such was our speciality) whilst he was having a massage. Unlike a lot of footballers today, Eric (and a lot of players from that era) had time for his fans, happy to discuss his passion for the game and what inspired him.
If I”m ever lucky enough to meet him again I will thank him for the picture below which always makes me smile.