Taught

October 14th 2016

Today’s story actually happened on Tuesday, but I forgot to tell it then, and it actually kind of relates to today, so yeah…

On Tuesday evenings I play football with my Dad and a group of his friends. I’ve been going along for a couple of months now. I always wanted to go when I was a kid, but never did. Now, it’s something I look forward to every week.

This week was the first time I’d been since I moved out. Actually, it was the first time I’d seen by Dad since I moved out. He told me he was supposed to give me a hug from my Mum, but he didn’t want to embarrass me in front of the guys. Cheers, Dad.

I always make sure I bring a white t-shirt to football, because he always wears a white t-shirt, and that means I’ll be on his team. I’ve not quite figured out if I’m supposed to call him ‘Dad’ or ‘Keith’ when we’re playing football together.

Back when he played Sunday league football every weekend us kids would go along and watch, to cheer him on.

“2, 4, 6, 8, who do we appreciate?!” and all the rest…

My Dad is five foot six. He’s not a large, or imposing footballer. But he’s smart.

There’s this trick he’d always pull when tackling someone. The man with the ball is coming towards him, and he’d be ‘jockeying’ with his left foot forward. Then, he’d kind of lean to his right, to encourage his opponent to go left. And then, he’d swing his right leg behind his left, and tackle, taking the ball from the guy who hasn’t quite figured out what just happened.

It’s sort of like a rabona tackle, if you know what that means.

Anyway.

I used that trick on Tuesday night. I leaned to my right, let the guy try to go past my left, and swung a leg behind me to take the ball.

Somewhere behind me I heard my Dad exclaim “I taught him that!”

Yeah Dad. Yeah you did. Along with so much else, I’m noticing.

My Dad has all of these little quirks around the house that I’ve always taken the mick out of him for. Except now I’ve got my own house, I’m noticing that I do them too.

In both houses, we have a three way light switch. One for outside, one for downstairs, one for upstairs. And I’m obsessed with the fact that if all of the lights are off, then the switches must all be oriented in the same direction. If not, I’ll turn the light on, walk across the room to the other light switch and turn it off from there so that the 3-way switch is all pointing down.

My Dad does that.

My Dad taught me that.

I thought I might struggle on my own. As the baby of the family I’ve always been very well looked after. But you know what? I’m going to be fine. (I know that that light switch thing has no practical benefits whatsoever.)

Until tomorrow, my Dad taught me that.

Jacn

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