If you could choose to go back to one day as a kid and one as an adult. What would they be.

As a boy, my first game playing football (the English kind not the American kind) in my NorCal town when I was 10. I had moved from SoCal the summer prior and never played anything but defender (and timidly at that) previously, but my coach put me at inside right (in the old 2-3-5 days) and I had a hat trick, and everyone was asking "Who is that big-nosed, dark-haired kid?" Started my love affair with the game.

As an adult, the day I met my future wife at a great party with great friends and got that feeling in the pit of my stomach that I'd found "the one". That or the day I quit a job to take another, better-paying one and that night went out to a wonderful dinner and then an amazing Everclear show.
 
As a kid: from 7-9, any long summer day spent outside with a football.

As an adult: the day after I got engaged to my future wife in Seville. Both woke up with a hangover (which was unusual for her) and I pretended not to remember what had happened the night before. Kept it up for a couple of minutes. We had lunch in the same place as we got engaged the night before without realising it until near the end of the meal. It was set up very differently tbf. We were both so stupidly happy that weekend, in an amazing place, and so ridiculously in love. What a day that was to be alive.

Beautiful city. I was there for our Uefa cup final against the Porto Diving team and although we lost, it was the greatest football adventure of my life.

Sounds like you had a great time too.
 
Beautiful city. I was there for our Uefa cup final against the Porto Diving team and although we lost, it was the greatest football adventure of my life.

Sounds like you had a great time too.
That’s a game I would have loved to have been at. There were photos of the Celtic fans in the main square before the game in a couple of bars we visited. The sheer numbers you took to that game were staggering.
 
I suspect that you attended one of those schools run by the Scottish equivalent of those dear old Irish Christian Brothers.

It was actually not as bad as that. I had the knack of not accepting what I felt was injustice against me and would argue that. As you can imagine, this was not always welcomed and I was belted for being stubborn. This only served to stiffen my resolve which again led to more belting.

It became an occupational hazard. But I never buckled, never cried and would stare them out afterwards, which unnerved a few who responded with hitting me.

Cyclical situation.
 

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