When I started to watch football games around 1998 I was only 11 years old. I got seriously into football in 2000 and started to watch the Premier League. As a teenager I absolutely liked/admired those players like Michael Owen, Steven Gerrard, Joe Cole, Darren Bent, etc. As I got older I noticed good players that caught my eye were getting younger and younger. I gradually stopped having the 'admiring' feelings towards them, simply appreciation. That was when I started to feel I'm getting old.
Last night I was watching the England game and the commentator said Walker is the oldest player in the squad who was born in 1990. I was like 'wow' (I was born in 1987). And then I noticed Mount whom I've read many good things about in the past few months but never seen play before. He was really impressive. Great great player. Then I looked him up and saw he was born in 1999, 12 years younger than myself - in Chinese culture 12 years are one full zodiac cycle meaning a whole generation. I really really feel old......
Just wait until you're old enough to be one of the team's Mum. Or worse, most of the team's Mum. Thankfully while Pearce and Watson are on the scene I'm safe from being old enough to being the entire squad's Mum.
When you go into work and there are very attractive women around, you realise they are between 1 and 5 years post graduation and you are old enough to be an older dad for them
Blessed with naturally good looks, I've never felt the need to worry too much about clothes or fashion. I'm sure those Lifers that know me would be able to testify to the second part of that, if not the first. Anyway, as I've aged, I've found that my minimal interest in matters sartorial has diminished to the point of complete indifference; I simply couldn't give a fuck about what I look like. It's a wonderful place to get to, so liberating. My clothes choice criteria are strictly limited to, what's available, what's comfortable, what's clean? And if the truth be known, the third of those is increasingly looking like a restriction too far. Considerations like, 'does this match' and 'does this look old fashioned' and even 'is this appropriate' have gone out of the window. My current attire of choice is jogging bottoms with hiking boots. Just a year ago this combination would have been unthinkable, but now I revel in the devil may care sense of independence that such a pairing gives. I'm very much looking forward to the summer though to try out the fabled sock/sandal amalgam, it looks ideal for a man like me. There are some real benefits to old age.
Blessed with naturally good looks, I've never felt the need to worry too much about clothes or fashion. I'm sure those Lifers that know me would be able to testify to the second part of that, if not the first. Anyway, as I've aged, I've found that my minimal interest in matters sartorial has diminished to the point of complete indifference; I simply couldn't give a fuck about what I look like. It's a wonderful place to get to, so liberating. My clothes choice criteria are strictly limited to, what's available, what's comfortable, what's clean? And if the truth be known, the third of those is increasingly looking like a restriction too far. Considerations like, 'does this match' and 'does this look old fashioned' and even 'is this appropriate' have gone out of the window. My current attire of choice is jogging bottoms with hiking boots. Just a year ago this combination would have been unthinkable, but now I revel in the devil may care sense of independence that such a pairing gives. I'm very much looking forward to the summer though to try out the fabled sock/sandal amalgam, it looks ideal for a man like me. There are some real benefits to old age.
Blessed with naturally good looks, I've never felt the need to worry too much about clothes or fashion. I'm sure those Lifers that know me would be able to testify to the second part of that, if not the first. Anyway, as I've aged, I've found that my minimal interest in matters sartorial has diminished to the point of complete indifference; I simply couldn't give a fuck about what I look like. It's a wonderful place to get to, so liberating. My clothes choice criteria are strictly limited to, what's available, what's comfortable, what's clean? And if the truth be known, the third of those is increasingly looking like a restriction too far. Considerations like, 'does this match' and 'does this look old fashioned' and even 'is this appropriate' have gone out of the window. My current attire of choice is jogging bottoms with hiking boots. Just a year ago this combination would have been unthinkable, but now I revel in the devil may care sense of independence that such a pairing gives. I'm very much looking forward to the summer though to try out the fabled sock/sandal amalgam, it looks ideal for a man like me. There are some real benefits to old age.
When @Elfsborg is being offered a seat on the train 😉.
I wouldn't mind but I thought I looked good for my age. Obviously not
You must have one of those mirrors that the evil queen had in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs mate ‘Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?’ 😉.
When @Elfsborg is being offered a seat on the train 😉.
I wouldn't mind but I thought I looked good for my age. Obviously not
You must have one of those mirrors that the evil queen had in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs mate ‘Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?’ 😉.
Comments
I always decline but some are insistent. I'm only 55
Que ?
Obviously not
45 years of not giving a sh*t about cars going vroom vroom, yet within a few months you’re borderline Clarkson
I have realised for a while that I talk to myself more and more as I age, but now it seems I'm also doing it by text.