YOUR son’s first football match should be a wonderful bonding experience you’ll treasure forever, but instead all this shit happens:

Parking the car

A train packed with lagered-up men in Stone Island quivering with repressed violence doesn’t seem ideal for an eight-year-old, so you drive. And an hour before a 12.30pm kick-off at Villa Park you’re in stationary traffic in bloody Handsworth looking for a suburban street where you can leave the car without it getting kicked in. Your swearing is copious.

Going to the pub

No kids allowed in the pub before the match? You’d never even noticed the absence of under 18s while savouring your pre-match pint, but apparently it’s been the case for some 20 years. Also, leaving him outside with pop and crisps unprotected from marauding rival fans ende

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