EVERY Saturday, all news reporters were expected to do their sports duty.
As a junior, in my pre-vicar days, I covered Bedworth Town in the West Midlands League. They lost so many times that they had to reapply to join the league.
The following season, I was promoted to cover Southern League Hinckley Athletic. They, too, finished bottom.
I then moved to my paper's flagship team, Nuneaton Borough, then in the heady Premier Division of the Southern League. Not for long. A season of my scintillating journalism relegated them to Division One.
It was then, in the sixties, that I came to Accrington Stanley.
Only now is it safe to confess.
Forty years after writing Stanley's obituary, they're at last on the resurrection trail. Hallelujah!
Should I now go and support them, I wonder.
NOOOooooooo!!!! Do I hear? Well, maybe I'll go to Ewood or Turf Moor.
Now, your gut reactions at this moment are a test of your gut beliefs.
1. Despite all your education and technology, you're still in your jungle past; a superstitious pagan who views me as a bad omen.
2. You believe in a loving God, who's in overall control, and fate and luck are just coincidence. It matters little whether I support your team or not.
3. You detest soccer and would like to me to visit every ground in the land, especially before the World Cup takes over the telly in June.
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