James Bird | The Guardian via MUNDIAL
August 2018 | 8-minute read
You might think they’re all mad. That, to get up every Sunday morning, whack on the uniform, pummel some breakfast down and leg it to a park to get screeched at by a yappy centre-forward who’s already livid because he forgot to put his favourite socks on the radiator, they must be mad. And maybe they are mad, but only in the sense that you are too. That you love football.