World Cup Fever

The World Cup got underway yesterday in Brazil with the hosts beating Croatia 3-1. The first World Cup I can remember is Mexico 86. (I can't say for sure but I think it was held in Mexico in 1986.) I was only 7 at the time, a young innocent, probably listening to The Smiths, REM, Throwing Muses, like most people did at that age and at that time. I was probably still into David Bowie then too, but secretly thought that his recent stuff wasn't as good as his 70s stuff, though didn't want to tell that to anyone else because I was just happy to see Bowie alive, happy and successful. He deserved it.

Just before Mexico 86, I had a bit of an accident. Playing football in our back yard on a lazy Sunday afternoon, I needed to go to the bathroom, so I ran to our back door, and tried to shove it open, thinking it to be ajar. As it happened, the door was shut and my hand went straight through one of the 1960s style glass panels (in 1986) leaving my wrist cut open and shards of glass stuck in the wound. As my mum didn't drive and my dad was playing golf (and was unreachable), my mum had to take me to my nan and grandad's house (a couple of streets away) to try to get a lift to the hospital. They weren't in either, nor their neighbour who we knew (who was also my godfather). I had a green and white tea towel wrapped around my wrist, soaking up the blood. In the end, some guy in my grandparents's street who happened to be outside washing his car offered to drive us to the hospital so that I could get my wrist dealt with.

The end result of this was that for the start of Mexico 86, I had my right wrist stitched and bandaged up. Coincidentally, star England striker of that World Cup was Gary Lineker, who had his (left) wrist bandaged during the tournament (see the picture above). This led to inevitable comparisons in the playground; fortunately, I was quite the goalscorer in those days and my Lineker-like appearance and goal-hanging made me a feared lunchtime goal threat.

England eventually lost in the quarter finals to Argentina, who went on to win the tournament. My wrist bandage was eventually removed, but it had served its purpose. My class's team (with me as star striker) went on to win a six-a-side tournament that summer too, proving me more successful than Gary Lineker that year, who won nothing, other than the World Cup's golden boot award for leading scorer and a multi-million pound transfer to Barcelona.