Life on Tapp: I’ll be watching the footy from the comfort of my armchair

I’d rather watch the footy from the comfort of my own home these days. Photo: AdobeStockI’d rather watch the footy from the comfort of my own home these days. Photo: AdobeStock
I’d rather watch the footy from the comfort of my own home these days. Photo: AdobeStock
​​It's just a matter of days before the nation takes leave of its senses and becomes obsessed with international football. Again.

Blaise Tapp writes: Depending on how well England and Scotland do over the course of the next month, communities across the land will be awash with colour while Transit vans everywhere will resemble an ambassador's limo on account of the number of flags attached to their bonnets.South of the border, there is genuine hope that England's men could end a 58 year wait for major silverware, with the Three Lions considered to be favourites to win Euro 24 by some bookmakers, which probably means we will crash out in the group stages. But, if they can finally fulfill the enormous expectations of fans, then we can expect a carnival atmosphere across the land, particularly in pubs and bars. While I genuinely hope that landlords and bar owners everywhere get the welcome boost to trade that a triumphant sporting summer will bring, I am afraid that I won't be participating in any sort of mass knees up and will be watching Gareth's boys from the relative comfort of my armchair.My days of squeezing into a sweaty boozer on match day, without any genuine chance of finding somewhere to sit, are long gone. In years gone by, I would watch every England match surrounded by fellow fans and sharing a belief which always fell painfully short.Be it Gazza's wonder goal against Scotland in '96 or Beckham's petulant kick and subsequent red card just two years later, I was able to share all the soaring highs and crashing lows with equally 'jolly' pals. Back then, watching international football in pubs was always something I considered to be a fun alternative to watching the action live from the stands, which was never really an option for a 19-year-old on £2.75 an hour.Back then, I didn't mind being hugged by a complete stranger with questionable washing habits or being showered in Heineken whenever Michael Owen cut the opposition defence to shreds. Nor did I mind people who had never actually watched a game of football all the way through, persistently question the tactics of managers such as Hoddle or Eriksson.These days, I'm far less tolerant of half cut wannabe Roy Keanes or Alan Shearers rabbiting in my ear about the need for more width. I'm also unable to drink more than two pints without having to make a dart for the gents, which is why I will be sticking to breakfast tea and the occasional Rich Tea.The pub will still be there when the football finishes.

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